The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1891-01-31
SWEET JENNY RELENTS.
One of Bret Harte's Tales of California
Life and Love.

to her fathers house, but the breath
of it was ALWAYS strong at the win
dows and doors in the early morn
ing, and when there were heavy
southwesters blowing in the winter,
the wind brought the sharp sting of
sand to her cheek, and the rain an
odd taste Of salt to her lips. On this
particular December afternoon, how
ever. as she stood in the doorway,
it seemed to be singularly calm; the
southwest trades blew but family and
scarcely broke the crests of the long
Pacific swell that lazily rose and fell
on the beach, which only slanting
copse of scrub oak and willow hid
from the cottage.
wouldn't go far to day, Jennie,
said her father, as the girl stepped
from the threshold l don't trust
the weather at this season-and, be-
sides you had better be looking over
your wardrobe for the party at Sol
Catlin's.
Why father, you don't intend to
go to that man's7 said the girl look
ing up with a troubled face.
"Iawyer Miller" as he was called
by his few neighbors, looked slightly
embarrassed. Why not? he asked,
in family 1rritated tone.
Why not7 Why, father, you
know how vulgar and conceited he
is-how everybody here truckles to
him.
Very likely; he's a very superior
man of his kinda kind they under
stand here, too-a great trapper,
hunter and pioneer.
But l don't believe in his trap
ping, hunting, and pioneering said
the girl, petulantly. l believe it's
all as hollow and boisterouS as him
self. It's no more real, or what one
thinks it should be, than he is. And
he dares to patronize you-you,
father, an educated man and a gen.
tleman!
Say rather an unsuccessful lawyer
who was tool enough to believe that
buying a ranch could make him a
farmer, returned her father, but half
jestingly. only wish was as good
at my trade as he is.
But you never liked him-you al
ways used to ignore him; you've
changed father" She stopped
suddenly, for her recollection of her
fathers quiet superiority and easy |
independence when he first came
there, was in such marked contrast |
to his late careless and weak acces- |
sion to the rude lite around them,
that she felt pang of vague degra-
dation, which she feared her voice
might betray.
Very we'll! Do as you like, he re-
piled, with affected carelessness, |
only l thought as we cannot afford |
to go elsewhere this Christmas, it |
might be we'll for us to take what we
could find here.
Take what we could find here! 1t |
was so unlike him-he, who had al
ways been so strong in preserving
their little domestic refinements in
their rude surroundings that their |
property had never seemed mean,
nor their seclusion ignoble. She |
turned away to conceal her indlg-
nant color. She could share the
household work with a squaw and
Chinaman. She could fetch wood |
and water. Catlin had patronizingly |
seen her doing 1t, but to dance TO
his vulgar piping-never!
She was not long in reaching the
sands that now lay before her, warm,
from short beach |
grass, stretching to a dim, rocky |
promontory, and absolutely untrod
by any foot but her own. 1t was
this virginity of seclusion that had
been charming to her girlhood;
fenced in between the impenetrable
hedge of scrub.o oaks on the one
side, and the lifting green walls of
breakers-tipped with cheveaux de
frise OF white foam on the other, she
had known perfect security for her
sports and fancies that had capti
vated her town bred instincts and
native fastidiousness. A few white
winged sea-birds as proud, reserved |
and maiden-like as herself, had been
her only companions. And it was
now the custodian of her secret-a
secret as innocent and child-like as
her previous youthful fancies-but
still secret known only to herself.
One day she had come upon the
rotting ribs Of a wreck on the beach. |
Its distance from the tide line, its
deep imbedding of sand, showed |
that it was OF ancient origin An
omniverous reader of all that per-
tanned to the history of California,
Jenny had in fancy often sailed the
seas in one of those mysterious
treasure ships that had skirted the
coast in bygone days, and she at
once settled in her mind that her
discovery was none other than a
castaway PHILIPPINE galleon. Partly |
from her reserve, and partly from a
suddenly conceived plan, she de-
termined to keep its existence as
unknown to her father, as careful in
quiry on her part had found it was
equally unknown TO the neighbors.
For this shy, imaginative young
girl of is had convinced herself that
it might still contain a part of its
old treasure. She would dig for it
herself without telling anybody. II