The San Francisco call., 1904-03-20

duller outside. and the fog began TO
sift itself into fine rain.
The servant. who was to close and
lock the cottage, begged her to. go,
promising to see to the shipping of the
last load Mariposa needed no special
urging. She felt that an afternoon
spent in that dim parlor, looking out
through the bay-window at the fine
slant OF the rain, would drive her mad.
There was no promise of cheer at the
Garcia boarding house, but it was, at
least not haunted with memories.
A half-hour later with the precious
desk, containing the marriage certifi-
Gates and Shackleton's gift of money,
under her arm, she was climbing the
hills from Sutter street to that part of
Hyde street in which the Garcia house
stood She eyed it with deepening
gloom as it revealed itself through the
thin rain. It was a house which even
then was getting old, standing back
from the street on top of bank, which
was held in place by wooden bulk
head, surmounted by a low balustrade
gate gave access through this, and
flight of rctting wooden steps led by
zigzags to the house The lower story
was sl1irted in front by balcony,
which, after the fashion of early San
Francisco architecture, was encased in
glass. Its roof above slanted up to the
two long windows of the front bed
room. The pepper-tree, of which Mar
iposa had spoken to Essex, was suffi-
cient 10 tell the age of the property and
to give beauty and picturesqueness to
the ramshackle old place. 1t had
reached an unusual growth and threw
a fountain Of dropping foliage over the
balustrade and one long limb upon the
balcony roof
To-day it dripped with the rest of the
world. AS Mariposa let the gate bang
the impact shook shower from the
tree, which fell On her as she passed
beneath It seemed TO her bad omen
and added to the almost terrifying SEN
sation of gloom that was invading her.
Her ring at the bell brought the
whole Garcia family to the door and
the hall. A child of ten--the elder of
the young Mrs. Garcia's boys-opened
it, He w2s in the condition of moist
ure and mud consequent on game of
baseball on the way home from school
Behind him crowded a smaller boy-of
a cherubic beauty-arrayed in very
dirty sailGr blouse, with a still dirtier
wide white collar, upon which hung
locks of wispy yellow hair. Mrs. Gar
cia, the younger. came drearily for
ward. She was a thin. pretty, slattern-
ly. young woman, very baggy at the
waist, and with the same wispy yellow
hair as her son, which she wore in the
popular bang. Il had been smartly
curled in the morning. but the damp
had shown it no respect, and it hung
down Imply nearly into her eyes. Back 8
of her, in the dim reaches of the hail.
Mariposa saw the grandmother. the
strange old Spanish woman, who spoke
nc English. she looked very old, and
small, and was wrinl1led like a walnut
But as she encountered the girls mis-
erable gaze she gave her a gentle reas-
suring smile, full of that curious, pa
tient sweetness which comes in the
faces of the old who have lived kindly.
The younger members of the family
escorted the new arrival upstairs. She
had seen her room before. had already
placed therein her piano and many of
her smaller ornaments. but its bleak
ness struck her anew. She stepped on
the threshold. looking at it's chill, half
furnished extent with a. sudden throt-
ting sense of inconsistencies. 1t was a
large room, evidently once the state
bedroom of the house, signs of its past
glory lingering in the elaborate gilt
chandelier, the. white wallpaper,
strewed with golden wheat-ears, and
the white marble mantelpiece, with
carvings of fruit at the sides. Now she
saw with renewed clearness of vision
the threadbare carpet, with large ink
stain by the table, the rocking chair
with one arm gone, the place on the
wall behind the sofa where the heads
of previous boarders had left their
mark.
Your clock don't CO." said the cher
ubic boy in a loud voice. i've tried to
make it, but it only ticks a minute and
then stops"
THERE" said Mrs. Garcia. with
gesture of collapsed hopelessness, hes
been at your clock, l knew he would
Have you broken her cIock?" fiercely to
the boy.
mo, amt" he returned, not in the
least overawed by the maternal on
slaught. 'It were broke when it came"
He did break 1t" said the other boy
suddenly. He opened the back door of
it and stuck hairpin in"
Mrs. Garcia made rush at her son
with the evident intention of admins
tering corporal punishment on the spot.
But with a loud, derisive shout. he
eluded her and dashed through the
doorway. Safe on the stairs, he cried
defantly:
Il amt done it, and no one can prove
it,
That's the way they always act,'
said Mrs. Garcia despondently, pushing
up her bang so that she could the bet
ter see her new guest. It's no picnic
having no husband and having to slave
for rybody."
Grandma slaves, too" said the rebel
son the stairway: "she slaves more'n
you do, and Uncle Gam slaves the
most"
Further revelations were stopped by
another ring at the bell. Visitors were