Margaret Sidney - "Five Little Peppers Abroad"

G. K. Chesterton - "A Miscellany of Men"

Jean de La Fontaine - "The Tales and Novels, v20: Neighbor Peter's Mare &c."

Anna Katherine Green - "The Mayor's Wife"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: Happy Hawkins

R >> Robert Alexander Wason >> Happy Hawkins




When his salve came he rubbed it on me an' then he rubbed it on
himself, an' then he told us to clear out so he could sleep. We all
left him after a little, an' I sent Spider Kelley after the doctor.
The' was only one member of Brophy's gang alive when I got back to
the side porch, an' he was sinkin' fast. He had told Jabez 'at then
intended to clean him out completely, an' that Jim, the sub-cook,
was one o' the gang an' had let the ridin' ponies loose so 'at the'
was no choice but to walk after the herd when they stampeded. He
said that if he hadn't 'a' had that chance he would 'a' put knock-
out drops in the coffee that night, which made all the men madder'n
ever. Knock-out drops ain't no fair way o' fightin'.

Well, this feller had been with Brophy a long time, an' he gave us a
purty complete list of his doin's an' his ways. As a rule a man only
lasted about a year with the gang, an' when it was possible Brophy
tried to get boys to fill up the vacancies,--boys likin' the game
an' not carin' much for the consequences. He tried to tell us where
Brophy had a lot o' gold salted down in Nevada, but it was hard to
understand him, an' before he made it clear he tuckered out.

We sent out word to the neighbors, an' that evening about forty of
'em rode over to the buryin', and they made a good bit of a fuss
over us, 'cause the gang had been worse'n a plague an' a famine. You
can judge o' their nerve when they made war on the Diamond Dot, we
havin' one o' the biggest outfits in the territory, an' all
patriotic toward the old man. Jabez give me more credit'n was due
me, but he sure tried to do the fair thing by of Monody too. Monody
had saved us all, an' that was the simple truth. It seemed odd to
think of how that kick I had in the jaw won me a friend in Monody,
an' then, when it was passed on, saved the Diamond Dot. I 'd like to
know what it did for the French sailor an' the feller what handed it
to him. Funny thing, life.

We tried to get Monody to take his clothes off an' be comfortable;
the boys fairly pestered the life out of him tryin' to do somethin'
for him, but he was obstinate, said 'at his clothes was clean, an'
he didn't intend to take 'em off till they got dirty. They bothered
him so that finally he made me bring him one of his guns, an' he
swore he'd use it before they got his clothes off. "I want to be
buried in 'em, Happy," he said to me, most earnest. "If I die with
'em on you won't let 'em take 'em off, will ya?" He had a lot o'
fever, so I humored him; but I wished, myself, he wasn't so set in
his ways. His salve was the bulliest stuff I ever used on a bullet
hole, an' my arm begun to mend right from the start. His shoulder
was splintered purty bad, but still, it didn't seem as if it ought
to have bothered his legs none. The next day he was a little wobbly
in his head, an' it seemed to rest him to hold my hand. He didn't
want no one else in the room, so I just sat an' talked nonsense to
him, an' twice Barbie came in to see him.

In spite of his ugly face the child wasn't a mite afraid of him, an'
she would smooth back his black, coarse hair; but she didn't talk to
him much--just looked into his eyes an' smiled.

"I wish Melisse was here," she said to me once when Monody was
dozin', "she'd cook somethin' nice an' tasty, an' she's such a good
nurse."

"Melisse?" sez Monody comein' to, "who's Melisse?"

"She's my old nurse," sez Barbie. "I told her a story--just a little
one--an' she wouldn't whip me for it, so Daddy told her to clear out
until she was willin' to do her duty. He thinks she's gone for good,
but I know where she is."

"Melisse, Melisse," muttered Monody. "Well, after all, it might be.
The' ain't nothin' too strange to happen."

I see 'at he was a bit out of his head, so I didn't question him
none. "Where is she, Barbie?" I asked in a low tone.

"I don't know just exactly where she is or I'd go bring her back, of
course," she sez; "but I know 'at she's somewhere hereabouts, 'cause
the day before my birthday--why, it was only day before yesterday,
wasn't it? It seems years ago. Well, day before yesterday I found a
big pan o' cakes in my playhouse, an' no one can't bake 'em but
Melisse."

Monody didn't say anything more until after Barbie'd gone from the
room, and then he made me tell him all I knew of Jabez, which was
mighty little. He lay there a long time without speakin', an' then
he sez: "O' course the' may not be anything in it, but if ever you
an' this Jabez lock horns, you just ask him about the Creole Belle,
an' if he's the man I mean--an' he sure favors him--it'll most
likely unnerve him. Now I want to sleep."

Spider Kelley an' the doctor got back about ten that night, an' ol'
Monody was in a ragin' fever an' some out of his head, but he kept
his gun handy an' wouldn't stand for any one startin' to undress
him.

"The''s somethin' worse'n that shoulder," sez the doctor, "though
that's bad enough, goodness knows. He's hurt somewhere in the spine,
an' I'll have to examine him. Take that fool gun away from him."

I put my hand on Monody's an' he loosened his hold on the gun an'
took hold of my hand, his face lightin' up contented. Then I handed
the gun to one o' the boys an' took tight hold of his right arm
while the doctor started to unbutton his shirt. Ol' Monody's eyes
opened with a jerk, an' the fever had left 'em. "Happy, Happy!" he
pleaded. "You know 'at I'd give my life for ya! You won't let 'em
bother me, will ya? I'm done for, I know it; an' the' ain't nothin'
to do. Happy, Happy, let me go in peace, won't ya? Let me die like a
man!"

The' wa'n't no fever in his eyes, an' he was sure earnest about it.
I knew 'at if things was changed an' I was in his place he'd give me
my way, so I sez to the doctor, "Dock, ol' Monody here is a cure-all
himself; he give me the best salve ever I see for my own shoulder,
an' when he sez it's all up with him, he ain't bluffin'. I reckon
you'd better just let him alone." I hadn't never seen this doctor
before; he was a youngish buck with sharp features an' an obstinate
chin. "No," sez he, "it wouldn't be professional. I got to make an
examination. Now some o' you boys hold his feet an' some o' you hold
his good hands an'--"

"Some o' you go to hell!" sez I. "If ol' Monody here wants to die
with his clothes on he's sure goin' to do it or else the' 's goin'
to be consid'able more funerals on this place than we've already
had. Now you git!"

The Dock, he was the first to go, an' then the rest o' the boys
filed out.

"You're square, Happy," sez Monody, after they'd gone. "You're
square, an' I knew it the first time I looked into your eyes. If I'd
fell in with square ones at the start it would 'a' been a heap
easier--a heap easier."

Cast Steel hadn't hardly taken his eyes off Barbie since lie 'd got
up an' around again, but right after the Dock had left, in he
popped. "What's this I hear, Happy?" he sez, excited.

"I don't know, Jabez," I replied.

"Dock Wilson sez 'at you chased hire out o' the room with a gun an'
wouldn't let him examine this man."

"Well," sez I, "as far as that goes, this man has a right to judge
for himself. He saved your life an' your outfit an' your daughter,
an' I don't reckon you're goin' to tie him into a knot so as a
doctor can go pokin' around in him when he don't want it."

"You're as obstinate as ever!" shouts Jabez. "He 's probably out of
his head."

"No, he ain't out of his head," sez Monody, in a low, soft voice,
but without openin' his eyes more'n a crack.

"He ain't out of his head an' he ain't forgot nothin' he ever knew,
an' it'll be better all around if he's allowed to go in peace."

Jabez looked at him in surprise, and Monody scowled up his face till
he looked like a wounded Silver Tip, but the' came a queer hunted
look into Jabez' eyes for a moment, an' then he muttered, "Well,
this is a free country an' I reckon lie has the right to decide. He
has sure saved us, an' if the' 's anything on earth I can give him,
all lie has to do is to ask for it, an' I hope he pulls through in
his own way."

Jabez fidgeted around a minute or two longer an' then he oozed out
o' the room. When he'd gone of Monody chuckled a wicked, contented
chuckle, an' after a bit lie sez,

"It's him all right, it's him, but he never did me any harm, an' I
wouldn't worry the child, not for worlds. She ought to have a woman
around her though. You get old Melisse back, Happy, an' remember--if
it ever comes to a question of you or him--just call him George
Jordan an' say 'at Jack Whitman wasn't killed "--Monody chuckled
again, an' then sobered--"but don't spring it except as a last
resort, 'cause the little girl couldn't help nothin' about the
Creole Belle, an' she ain't no call to be worried by it. Jim
Jimison, he's white, Happy, but he 'd 'a' been killed that trip if
you hadn't taken bolt when you did. He's learned the game purty well
now, though, an' I reckon he'll make good."

Poor old Monody kept on talkin' disconnected until about midnight,
first tellin' some devilish deed he'd seen or took part in, an' then
tellin' o' some joke or some act o' kindness. Just at midnight he
took my hand, an' the' came a look into his eyes like as if he was
about overcome by some beautiful vision; but in a moment he cohered
down an' he gripped my hand till it hurt. "Happy," he gasped, "I
allus loved ya, Happy. You won't let--you won't let 'em--" an' it
was all over with ol' Monody.

I sat by the bed a long time thinkin' it over, an' then I went out
into the settin' room. Jabez an' a couple o' the boys was there an'
I told 'em it was over. I went out into the night to have a look at
the stars. Whenever somethin' has happened in my little wobbly life
down here I like to get out an' see the same old stars in their same
old places, calm an' steady an' true. That was one thing which allus
drew me to the child Barbie,--she was a star-worshiper too, same as
me.

When I got back I see the little doctor explainin' somethin' to
Jabez. I thought he had gone long ago, but the hooked-nosed buzzard
couldn't leave without satisfyin' his curiosity. "What do you reckon
was the reason your friend wouldn't let himself be examined?" sez
he, with a leer.

"It wasn't nowise my business," sez I," so I didn't think about it
at all."

"Well, it was because he wasn't a man at all--he was a woman."

For a moment I stood an' looked at him, while a lot o' things became
clear as day to me. A woman--ol' Monody was a woman! When I thought
of what a girl is, an' what it must have took to make one want to
really be a man, I felt plumb ashamed o' my sex; but here was
another creature in man's clothes standin' an' grinnin' into my face
as though he had done somethin' smart.

"How do you know?" I sez soft an' steady.

"I went in an' examined--it was my professional duty. She had been
shot in the abdomen and the bullet had lodged in the spine. She had
stuffed a rag into the hole an' all the bleedin' was internal. I
found that--"

"Who was with you?" I asked him.

"Nobody," he said with pride; "I went in alone an' I found--"

"I'm obliged to ya, Boys," sez I, "an' I'll be obliged to you still
more if you'll just stand to one side an' watch me make an
examination. I only got one arm, so it's perfectly fair. It seems to
be the fashion now days to examine human beings who wear men's
clothes--but who ain't men--so I feel it my PROFESSIONAL DUTY to
examine this here speciment before us."

The grin kind o' left his face when I started for him. He wasn't
near my size, but me only havin' one workin' arm made it fair. He
looked to the boys to help him, but they was unusual placid. I
reached out an' grabbed him by the collar an' put my knee in his
stomach as a brace; he struck me in the face an' in my wounded
shoulder, but in about one minute I had his clothes off him, an'
there he stood the shamedest thing I ever see. "Now you get out o'
here an' ride home," sez I, "an' I believe if I was you I'd pick
myself out a new home--one 'at would take about six weeks to ride
to. You won't be popular around here from this on."

"Can't I put my clothes on," he sez.

"Not these," sez I. "If you have any more where you've been livin'
you can put them on; but I hope in my heart the sun peels your back
before you arrive, an' I hope when you do arrive the' 'll be enough
women awake to give you a raw-hidin' for bein' indecent. Now git."

He looked into the boys' faces again, but they wasn't friendly--they
wasn't even smilin', an' then he went outside, got his pony, an'
rode away. He rode clear out o' the West I reckon, 'cause while I
heard of the story purty much everywhere I went after that, I ain't
never heard o' the buzzard himself since that day long, long ago.

It was dawn by the time he'd rode out o' sight with his white skin
shinin' on his hunched up form, an' then I went in to set with ol'
Monody a while.




CHAPTER FIVE

JUST MONODY--A MAN


He looked mighty peaceful, did ol' Monody. Curious thing about
death, is the way it seems to beautify a person. In life Monody was
the homeliest human I ever see, an' yet the' was something so
kindly, an' gentle, an'--an' satisfied in his face there under the
lamplight, that I reached out an' patted his hand, almost envious--
even though my fool eyes was a-winkin' mighty fast.

We all of us would give the first ten years of our life to know what
it's like out yonder; when he was here, ol' Monody would 'a' done
anything he could for me,--well, he lay down his life an' I reckon
that's about skinnin' the deck,--but here I was achin' to know how
it was with him, an' there he was with all his guesses answered, an'
him not able to pass back a single tip to me.

It wasn't him that I was lookin' down at, it was just the shell of
him, scarred and battered and bruised, but all his life--or at least
most of it--he had twisted up his face to make it as ugly as
possible, so 'at no one wouldn't take him for a woman. Now it could
relax an' give a sort of a hint as to what it might have been if
he'd had a chance to live. Oh, it's sure a crime the way we torture
some o' the white souls 'at drift to this Sorrowful Star, as I once
heard a feller call it.

Injun, Nigger, an' Greaser--why, such a combination as that ain't
entitled to trial in a civilized nation--it's guilty on sight. Any
one would know 'at such a bein' would be cruel an' treacherous an'
thievin' an' everything else 'at was bad--but yet the' come a good
streak into Monody some way or other. All in the world I had ever
done for him was to beat him over the head when he acted like a
beast, an' then to treat hint like a human when he acted like one.
The' wasn't nothin' especially kind nor thoughtful in it, just
simple justice as you might say, an' yet in spite of his treacherous
mixture he wasn't askin' no favors; all he wanted was a square deal,
an' when he got it he was square clear to the finish. It's a funny
thing, life.

In spite of all he'd done to kill it the' was a mother streak in him
which made him fair hungry for somethin' to pet an' fondle. He was
allus good to any kind of an animal, an' though I didn't notice it
at the time, he was allus motherin' me; an' look at the way he had
soothed little Barbie with a touch that night in the cook shack! O'
course I ain't questioning the judgment o' the Almighty, but for the
life o' me the I can't see why it was necessary to make a woman as
big an' as tall as ol' Monody was, an' yet perhaps if I just knew
the story from the beginnin', I 'd see it was a mercy, after all.

Anyhow, it made it easy enough for him to work out his scheme.

The' ain't no rules for women anyhow, 'cause their hearts won't
never surrender to their heads; when they do, they ain't all woman.
Well, yes, there is one rule 'at 's safe for a man to foller In
dealin with woman, an' that is that when a woman's in love, she 's
in love all over. Sometimes a man's in love up to his pocket-book,
sometimes up to his appetite, an' sometimes up to his heart, but
he's mighty seldom in love all over. If nothin' else stays dry he's
generally able to take care of his head, but with a woman everything
goes; so I'm purty tol'able sure that away back at the beginnin' it
was love 'at drove ol' Monody out of her own sex down into ours.

When the news spread abroad 'at the man who had killed Bill Brophy
without a weapon had cashed in, the neighbors gathered from ninety
miles around, and we sure gave Monody the rip-snortin'est funeral
ever seen in those parts. We didn't say nothin' about him not really
bein' a man, an' though I reckon 'at every feller there knew of it,
the' wasn't a single one of 'em spoke of it--so we didn't have no
trouble at all.

He lies on a little knoll about a mile to the north of the ranch
house. Up back of him ol' Mount Savage stands guard an' fights off
the roughest of the storms; while the soft winds from the south
steal gently up a little cut in the rocks an' seem to circle about
him, whisperin' secrets of countries far away. If the' 's a single
bird in Wyoming, you can find it hoppin' about his narrow bed or
singin' in the oak tree 'at stands above him, spreadin' out its
branches like a priest givin' the blessin'. Winter or summer,
Monody's grave is the quietest, peacefullest, purtiest spot 'at lies
outdoors, as if the old Earth had repented of the way it had treated
him, and was tryin' to make it up to him now.

Take it in winter when the' 's a clean sheet o' soft, white snow
over everything, an' I like to go out an' stand on another little
knoll about a half mile this side. The last speck of light in the
valley comes through a narrow cleft an' falls on Monody's grave. As
the sun sinks lower an' lower the crimson glory on the soft fleecy
snow seems to come up out of the grave an' climb the black shadow of
the mountain, like--but pshaw, I reckon it'd be a mighty tame sight
to ol' Monody himself.

I never speak of him, an' I never think of him, as anything but a
man. He lived like a man, God knows he died like a man; and on the
little stone at his head the' ain't nothin' carved except just--
Monody, a Man.




CHAPTER SIX

THE RACE


It was mighty pleasant back at the Diamond Dot after things got
settled again. Barbie had become a curious little trick with a way
of doin' strange things in a sober old-fashioned manner like as if
she was a hundred years of age, but was tryin' to hide it.

She was more like Jabez too, which give me a heap of amusement,
seein' which one was goin' to win when they straddled a question.
Barbie wasn't sassy, not at all; she just didn't seem able to savvy
that a few small matters, like age an' parentage an' ownin' the
ranch, gave Jabez a sort of a majority vote, as you might say, on
all questions. No, Barbie couldn't seem to get callous to this, an'
she fought out all differences of opinion from the mere facts o' the
case, an' I got to do Jabez the justice of admittin' that he never
retreated behind his authority until after he'd been well licked in
the open; an' unless it was a mighty important question he took his
lickin' like a man. Barbie was game about it too, an' when she got
the worst of a fair fight she never put up a howl; but when she had
won in the open it used to grind her something fierce to be told
point blank that she had to do such an' so, "'Cause she was a girl."

"If tobacco stunts your growth, how's it come 'at old Tank Williams
an' George Hendricks an' Happy an' a lot more o' the boys is all
over six feet tall," she sez one day durin' a try-out, "while Flap
Jack is the smallest man on the place an' he don't never use it at
all--'cept when he cuts his finger."

"Things don't allus work alike," sez Jabez, slow an' cautious. "The
tall ones would all 'av' been taller if they hadn't used it, an'
Flappy, he wouldn't 'a' been able to see out of his boots if he
had."

"Well, I don't see as it makes much difference, anyhow," sez she. "I
don't want to be so everlastin' tall, so I reckon I'll just smoke
four a day an' that'll--"

"I reckon you won't smoke any a day," sez Jabez, gettin' riled.
"Smokin' cigarettes is a nasty, filthy habit, an'--"

"Then I'll smoke a pipe," sez Barbie.

"No you won't smoke a pipe! I don't intend to have a gal child of
mine smokin' anything. It's disgustin', an--"

"It ain't as disgustin' as chewin', an' you chew," sez Barbie.

"Now you look here!" yells Jabez, hot as a hornet, "I'm a man an'
you ain't, an' that makes a heap o' difference. I had to give up
cussin' on your account, but I don't intend to go to wearin' dresses
complete, just to keep you halfway respectable."

"Yes, an' I got three cusses comin' to me too," sez Barbie. "I heard
you over at the hay-barn yesterday."

"That don't count--the agreement was, 'about the house'; an'
besides, you didn't have no call to be there."

"Yes I did. I couldn't light my cigarette out in the wind so I got
behind the barn. You are the one 'at didn't have no call to cuss.
The' wasn't anything wrong at the hay-barn an' you was all alone. I
just know 'at you went there to cuss 'cause I made you own up at
breakfast that it wasn't no worse for me to fling the oatmeal out
the window when it didn't suit me than it was for you to fling the
coffee."

The old man just stood an' stared at her so I knew 'at the little
witch had rooted out his devisement. "When you are older, Barbara,"
ol' Cast Steel sez in his coldest tone, "you will understand these
things an' be glad of the care I took of you; but now I am compelled
to lay down a law. You are never to smoke again until you're of
legal age."

"What's legal age?" sez she.

"Twenty-one years," sez Jabez.

"That'll be thirteen years," sez Barbie. "All right; but I'm goin'
to roll three cigarettes a day for thirteen years an' the very day
I'm twenty-one I'm goin' to smoke 'em all."

"You go to your room an' stay there," sez Jabez, white-hot.

"I will," she answers as cool as an icicle, "an' I'm goin' to figure
up how many it will be, so I'll have some sort of fun to look
forward to--when I get of legal age."

After she'd gone Jabez set down on a stone an' wiped his forehead.
"She ain't a child, Happy. She ain't nothin' like a child," sez
Jabez to me. "Here she is only eight year old an' she's got me out
beyond my depth already. I don't know what I ought to do with her.
She went to the spring round-up this year an' slept in a Navajo
right outdoors. She wants to go bear huntin' or anything else 'at's
wild an' dis-accordin' to her nature. What on earth am I goin' to do
with her?"

"You ought to have children to play with her. She wants to play all
right, she tries to play; but the only kind of play she knows is
grown-up play. Get some children an' dolls an' pet kittens an' such
things for her; that'll give her a chance," sez I.

"I tried it," sez Jabez. "I tried it last summer, but she about
killed 'em. The only children I could get was two little Injuns, but
she about ruined 'em. The only game she would play was war, an' when
they wouldn't stand for her way o' playin' it she got on her pinto--
the one you broke for her--an' roped 'em both an' like to dragged
the hide off 'em. I don't know what to do."

"You ought to send her to school," sez I. "They'll be white children
there an' they won't be slow an' gentle like the little Injuns;
they'll be just as full o' devil as what she is, an' she'll get the
sharp corners wore off her."

"Hang it I tried that too. I sent her when she was six year old--I'd
been lookin' forward to it a good long time too, but it didn't do no
good.

"She put in the first day all right, but things went too slow for
her after that, an' she brought home her books an' made me pester
over 'em with her, an' she went into it like a game, an' now she's
gone through about four years' work in two. It's a blame shame,
'cause the school is only ten miles away an' she could go as well as
not, but she's so terrible impatient. She reads all kinds o' books
already, an' sez she's goin' to read 'em all before she quits. She
ain't a bit like a child an' I don't think it's natural. I wish
she'd pester me for dolls an' pink dresses an' things like that
instead of wantin' all kinds of firearms, an' playin' poker with the
boys."

Ol' Cast Steel was all worked up over it, an' I thought a long time
before I answered him, then I sez, "Jabez, you're hard enough on the
child an' you're strict enough with her, but you ain't strict enough
with yourself. When it comes to a show down,--when you actually say
yes and now,--why, she gives in; but when you argue with her she's
just as sharp as you are, an' the' 's a heap o' things all children
has to do 'at I reckon the' ain't no real sense in, so when you try
to dig up a reason for 'em you give 'em the whip hand. Just like
religion: lots of it is better just stated an' not mussed up tryin'
to be explained. When a parson tries to tell me why God created this
universe, it don't sound reasonable; but when I go out an' look at
the stars an' the mountains an' the big sweep o' the plains an' then
try to round up all that astronomer feller said about things, why, I
just know 'at nobody but God could 'a' done it--an' I reckon it's
that way with a child. She trusts you until you get down to her
level an' then she sees that the' ain't much difference between you,
an' she naturally expects you to play the same game by the same
rules. You send her to school an' tell her it's for her own good,
an' let her'n the teacher fight it out. That's a teacher's business
an' they know how."