John Lothrop Motley - "History of the United Netherlands, 1608(a)"

Catherine Helen Spence(1825 1910) - "Mr. Hogarth's Will"

Robert Gordon Anderson - "Half Past Seven Stories"

Juliana Horatia Ewing - "Jan of the Windmill"

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




I nodded my head: "Did the Friar get fainty about Barbie bein' a
heretic?" sez I.

"No, he didn't," sez Jabez, "he just laughed when I told him about
it, an' he an' Barbie, they wrangled over it for a long time; but he
played fair. When he didn't know the answer he owned up to it, an'
then he told her that the Bible was written by a lot of different
men, an' that the spirit of it was inspired; but that the' wasn't
any words ever invented that could describe creation; because the
origin of life was a thing 'at man wasn't wise enough to comprehend,
an' that all the scientific books ever written couldn't come any
nearer to it than that first chapter of Genesis, which had been
written ages ago when the old Earth was still in its childhood."

"How did Barbie get around this?" sez I.

"Well, she didn't have much to say; he didn't climb up on a perch
an' call her names, he just sat there by her side like they was both
children together; an' then he took some of her books an' explained
things she didn't understand an' pointed out things 'at other
scientists didn't believe in, an' he actually said 'at he believed
that after they had examined the earth all over, inside an' out with
a magnifyin' glass, every last scientist the' was would be willin'
to admit that it must have been created some way or another; and
that we'd all be the better for the work these scientists was doin',
but that she mustn't confuse the word with the spirit, for it was
the spirit which giveth life. He's an A I man, Friar Tuck is; but
when I offered him twice as much a year as he's gettin' to stay an'
teach her, he just laughed again, an' said that I wasn't in no
position to double the kind o' wages he was workin' for. I was a
little put out at this, but Barbie said he was talkin' in parables."

"Was she wearin' the buckskin pants when he was here?" sez I.

"Yes, she was, an' I didn't much like the way he acted about that.
At first he thought she was a boy, an' it made me hot; but he sez to
me, 'Didn't God create man first?' I owned up that he did. 'Well,
then,' said he, `let this child develop the man side of her first,
so that she may have strength an' courage for all her journey.'
Everything that man sez has the ring o' truth in it, an' I didn't
have much of a come-back, except to say that she was overdoing it.
He called Barbie over to him an' looked into her eyes an' put his
big hand on her head an' afterward he sez to me, `You needn't worry;
soon enough a soul which is all woman will stand before you and ask
questions which will make you long for these days back again. Give
her all the time she will take,'"

"What else did he say?" sez I.

"Well, he asked me if I had ever noticed a litter of pups. I said I
had, and he wanted to know if the' was much difference in the way
they played. I owned up that the' wasn't. Then he looked sort o'
worried an' asked me if I had ever found any of 'em to get their sex
mixed up bad enough to have the tangle last through life. I had to
admit that I never had, an' he laughed at me good an' proper--but
his laughs never hurt. I didn't mind about her wearin' the buckskins
after that so much."

"Well, then, what made you rear up about 'em yesterday?" sez I.

"I hired a new man when she was out ridin',--day before yesterday it
was,--an' when she came in he thought she was a boy an' kind o' got
gay, an' she panned him out; an' he cussed her an' she drew a gun on
him an' made him take it back, an' he might o' taken some spite out
on her before he found out she was a girl. She is too sizey now, an'
confound it, leggin's an' a short skirt ought to satisfy any female-
-but now she won't speak to me, an' I can't go back on my order, so
I don't see how we're goin' to straighten it out."

I pertended to be mad. "Jabez," I sez, "I do wish I could come back
to this ranch just once an' find it runnin' smooth. Here I come all
the way from Nevada just to see it once again, an' I find the boss
an' his daughter ain't on speakin' terms, an' I have to stand
palaverin' for a solid hour without anything bein' asked about my
appetite, an' me just finishin' a twenty-mile walk."

"By George, I'm sorry!" sez Jabez. "But hang it, Happy, you ought to
savvy this place well enough by this time to know 'at no human ever
has to set up an' beg for food. I'm glad to see you 'cause the
little girl does set a heap by you, an' you seem to have a way o'
straightenin' out the kinks. While you're eatin' breakfast see if
you can't think up some way to get her to talkin' again." We started
to walk to the house, an' I sez, "just what was your orders about
these buckskins?"

"I told her to take 'em off at once an' throw 'em out the window,
sez he.

"Did she do it?" sez I.

"She allus obeys orders when she drives me to issue 'em--but I allus
get a sting out of it, some way or other. This time I issued the
order at the supper table, an' she went upstairs to her room,
stuffed the suit full o' pillows, stood in the window, an' screamed
until me an' the boys ran out to see what was the matter. Then she
threw the figger out an' we thought she had jumped, an' I made a
fool o' myself. It's playin' with fire every time you cross her, but
she allus obeys orders. Still, it's tarnation hard to be her father-
-not that I'd trade the job for any other in the country, at that."

I had to chuckle inward all the way to the housc, an' just before we
arrived to it I purt' nigh exploded. Here come a figger, heavily
veiled an' wearin' a shapeless sort of a dress affair made out of a
bedquilt an' draggin' behind on the ground. It walked along slow an'
diginfied, like some sort of a heathen ghost, an' when it came to a
pebble in the path it would walk around it an' not step over, all
the time holdin' a hand lookin' glass to see that her toe didn't
show. I just took one side-eye at Jabez an' his face looked like a
storm cioud at a picnic; but when Barbie see who I was she tore off
the veil, gathered up her skirts, an' yelled, "Happy! Happy Hawkins,
is it really you? "

"I'm ready to take my oath on it, madame," sez I, not Cracktn' a
smile; "but if I might make so bold, who are you?"

"Oh, Happy, we thought you was dead," said she, with a little catch
in her voice that made me wink a time or two. "Where have you been
all these years, an' why didn't you come back to us?"

She stood lookin' into my eyes, half tender an' half cross, an' I
couldn't help but try her out to see which would win. "I didn't know
for sure that I'd be welcome," sez I.

"Oh. Happy!" she sez; an' she threw her arms around my neck an'
kissed me, an' then we went in to breakfast. I answered her
questions between bites, an' as soon as we'd finished I proposed
we'd go for a ride. "I haven't crossed a saddle for two years," sez
I. "Is Starlight here yet?"

"Well I should say he is, and fat an' bossy," sez she. "The' hasn't
airy another body but me rode him neither. I divide my ridin'
between him an' Hawkins, just ridin' a colt now an' again to keep
from gettin' careless." Then she stopped an' looked down at the
thing she was wearin' an' said, sadly, "But I reckon my ridin' days
are over."

"Alas, yes," sez I, usin' Hammy's most solemn voice, "Old Age has
set his seal upon your brow, an' I can see you sitting knitting by
the fire for your few remainin' days."

"Where did you learn to talk that way?" sez she, quick as a wink. So
I told her of my winter at Slocum's Luck, an' she asked me a million
questions about Hammy an' Locals. When I was through she sat silent
for a while an' then she sez, "Happy, I'm goin' to see more o' the
world than just this ranch some day."

"Well, the' ain't much of it that's a whole lot better--an' I've
seen it about all," sez I.

"You seen it about all?" sez she, scornful; "why, you haven't seen
the inside of one real house."

I glanced around, but she snaps in, "This ain't a house, this is
just shelter from the elements. I'm goin' to see mansions an'
palaces, an' I'm goin' to see 'em from the inside too."

"Have you ever read Monte Cristo?" sez I.

"No," sez she.

"Then don't you do it," sez I. "Your head's about as far turned now
as your neck'll stand, an' what you ought to do is to learn how to
cook an' sew."

She looked at me with her eyes snappin', but in a second her face
broke into a grin. "The' ain't a mite o' use in your tryin' that,"
sez she. "You like me just as I am, an' you don't need to feel it's
your duty to work in any that teacher stuff. Gee, but I'm glad you
came back It looks as if me an' Dad is in for a long siege of it
this time, an' you'll keep me from gettin' lonesome."

"Not the right answer," sez I. "I'm goin' to leave tomorrow."

Her face grew long in a minute, when she see I meant it. "Happy--you
don't really mean that, do you?"

"Barbie," I sez, "I had to leave before, or take sides. Well, you
an' the boss are warrin' again; I can't fight you, an' I won't side
again him. You don't leave me any choice--I just have to go away
again."

"Oh, I don't want you to go away again," she sez. "You allus find
more in things than the rest of 'em ever do, an' I want you to tell
me all about those two queer men you spent the winter with, an' to
teach me just the way the one you call Hammy used his voice. Happy,
you just can't go away again."

"I don't want to go away again," sez I, an' I was down-right in
earnest by this time, "but you make me. Barbie, you are hard-
hearted. You know that your father thinks the world of you--"

"He don't think one speck more of me than I do of him," she snaps
in.

"Yes, but he's different," I sez. "He's your father, an' he has to
guide and correct you."

"Well, he don't have to throw in my teeth that I'm a girl every tine
I want to do anything."

I'm disappointed in you," I sez to her in a hard voice. "I thought
that you would be game, but you're not."

"What ain't I game about?" sez she.

"You're ashamed of bein' a girl," sez I.

"I ain't," sez she. "I'm glad I'm a girl, an' I want to tell you
that the' 's been just about as many heroines as heros too. I don't
mean just these patient women who put up with things; I mean
heroines in history. Look at Joan of Arc!"

"I never heard of her before," sez I, "but I reckon she must have
been Noah's wife." She breaks in an' tells me the story of the
French farm girl who got to be the leader of an army and whipped the
king of England an' was finally burned; an' then, naturally, became
a heroine an' a saint.

"She didn't wear boys clothes, did she?" I sez, thinkin' I had her.

"Yes, she did!" sez Barbie.

"Well, she ought to be ashamed of herself," I said; but I knew I was
gettin' the worst of it, so I changes the sub-ject. "But speakin'
about the Ark," sez I, "there's another example of your obstinacy.
When I went away from here you was fussin' with the school-teachers
because they said this whole earth was once under water, an' now I
find you cuttin' around an' linin' out missionary-preachers because
you ain't suited with the way the Bible was wrote. It looks to me as
if you ought to get old enough sometime to realize 'at you ain't
nothin' but a child. Your father is willin' to give you a fair show;
he don't ask you to act like a girl, all he wants is for you to look
like one."

"If I have to wear a skirt, you know mighty well I can't ride," sez
she.

"You don't have to wear a thing like what you have on now," I sez.
"Why don't you get over your pout an' be sensible. He never asks you
to humble yourself. All you need is to do what he wants, an' he'll
drop it at once."

"Yes," sez she, "all I need to do is to give up my independence an'
he'll think I'm a nice little girl."

"Why don't you figger out some kind of a dress that would look like
a girl's and--and work like a boy's?" sez I.

She sat thinkin' for a minute an' then sez, "That wouldn't be a
complete surrender, that would only be a compromise; an' I'd be
mighty glad to do it if the' was only some way."

"Where's that picture of the girl who whipped the king?" sez I.

She ran an' got it, an' it was a dandy lookin' girl all right,--it
looked a little mite like Barbie herself,--but she was wearin'
clothes 'at most folks would think undesirable; they was made out of
iron an' covered with cloth.

"You don't want to wear any such thing as that, Barbie," sez I, "it
would be too blame hot, an' that bedquilt thing's bad enough."

"That's what they used to fight in," sez she.

"They must 'a' been blame poor shots," sez I. "Why, I could shoot
'em through those eye-holes as fast as they came up, an' she don't
even wear any head part with hers." Then an idea struck me: "But why
don't you make a suit like her outside one?" sez I. "It comes below
her knees an' yet she can ride in it all right."

Well, we got old Melisse to help us, an' by four o'clock the thing
was done. We had used up some dark-green flannel that Jabez had
bought to have a dress made of, an' which she had kicked on. She
took it up to her room an' I went out to find Jabez. I told him that
she was always willin' to give in when any honorable way was pointed
out, an' he was the tickledest man in the West. He went in to supper
four times before it was ready, but when it finally was ready Barbie
wouldn't come down.

Melisse went after her an' come back sayin' that Barbie didn't feel
hungrv an' was goin' to wait until after dark an' then wear it
outdoors.

"What nonsense!" sez Jabez. "Here she's been wearin' regular
buckskin pants, an' now she fusses up about what you say is a half
dress. You go an' get her."

I went to the head of the stairs an' called her, an' she finally
stuck her head out of her room an' sez, "Happy, I just can't wear
this thing. It flaps!"

"Let it flap!" sez I. "You're just like a colt gettin' used to a
single-tree; you won't mind it after the first hour. Let me see how
it looks."

She opens the door an' stands with a queer new look on her face, an'
her cheeks pink as wild roses. I hadn't never seen those cheeks pink
up for anything but fun or anger before, an' it flashed upon me what
Friar Tuck had told Jabez; an' I was willin' to bet that the time
would come when he'd have full as much girl on his hands as any one
man could wish.

The waist part of it was loose an' low in the neck an' came to a
little below the knees where the leggin's began. The upper part of
the leggin's which you couldn't see were loose an' easy. Her little
legs looked cute an' shapely, an' her smooth, round throat came up
from the open neck mighty winnin'--the whole thing was just right
an' I sez to her, "Why, Barbie, this is the finest rig you ever had
on, an' you're as purty as a picture."

Well, her face went the color of a sunset an' she slammed the door.
"If I was your Dad," sez I to myself, "you'd go back to those
buckskins to-morrow." I waited a moment an' then I began to make fun
of her, and after a while she came out with her teeth set tight
together an' we went down to the dinin' room; but it was the first
time I had ever seen her take an awkward step.

"Now that's what I call a sensible garment," sez Jabez, heartily,
an' then he begun talkin' to me. Jabez had a lot o' wisdom when he
kept his head, an' by the time supper was over Barbie was purty well
used to the feel, an' we all three went for a ride; me ridin'
Starlight, Barbie, Hawkins, an' Jabez a strappin' bay, one of
Pluto's colts, an' a beauty. Well, I'll never forget that ride: you
know how tobacco tastes after a man owns up that he was only jokin'
when he swore off; you know how liquor seems to ooz all through you
after you've been out in the alkali for three months--well, that
first ride, after bein' out o' commission for two years, makes these
two sensations something like the affection a man has for sour-dough
bread. Oh, it was glorious! we all felt like a flock o' birds--
hosses an' all. In the first place it was spring, an' that was
excuse enough if the' hadn't been any other; but two of us had gone
into that day not on speakin' terms, an' now they were closer than
ever, an' the third one had brought 'em together. The old sayin' is
that three's a crowd, but it took a crowd to hold all the joyfulness
that we was luggin' that night, an' it was ten o'clock before we
turned around on the velvet carpet an' came swingin' back to the
house.

We had to finish with a little race, an' I was rejoiced to see that
old Starlight hadn't become a back number, even though the bay colt
did make it a mighty close finish.

As soon as we unsaddled, Barbie sort o' whispered to me, "I 'm awful
glad you came back, Happy"; an' then she ran into the house.

Jabez shook hands an' sez, "It seems to me, Happy, that I've been
waitin' for you for months. I hope to goodness you don't fly up any
more." "I ain't goin' to look for trouble Jabez" sez I "This spot is
the most homelike to me of any on earth; but I don't believe I'll
turn in yet. I want to stroll around a little."

I walked off in the quiet to the little mound where Monody lay, an'
I sat there a long while, thinkin' o' the last time I'd come back.
The night was unusual warm, an' I hunted up all the stars that I
knew, an' watched 'em as they dropped down one by one behind the
mountains. I thought of all that Friar Tuck had said about the
origin of life, an' what a nerve a child like Barbie had to even
study on such a subject. Then I dropped back to all the happiness
I'd had that day, an' the last thing I knew I was lookin' into
Barbie's eyes an' wonderin' what made her face so pink. It was the
cold, gray dawn-wind that woke me up.




CHAPTER TWELVE

THE LASSOO DUEL


That was a summer I love to think over; but the' wasn't nothin'
happened to tell about. I was a little soft at first, but it didn't
take me long to get my hand in, an' I roped my half o' the winter
calves. It had been a mild winter an' the' was a big run of 'em, an'
Jabez was in a good humor most o' the time.

The men mostly liked Jabez; but they used to talk a lot about him,
as he was some different from the usual run. He had first come into
that locality when Barbie was two years old, buyin' the big Sembrick
ranch an' stockin' it up to the limit. Ye never said a word about
his wife, nor his past; an' Jabez wasn't just the sort of character
a man felt like pryin' private history out of.

The men laughed a good bit about the time Jabez had had with the
Spike Crick school. He had a fool notion that money was entitled to
do all the talkin', an' that's a hard position to make good in a new
country. After his money had built the schoolhouse, they refused to
elect him one o' the trustees; said it might lead to one-man
control. Still, Jabez wasn't no blind worshiper of the law, an' when
he found that they'd put a rope on him, he just sidles in an'
asserts himself. It was easy enough to convince a teacher that the
trustees was boss; but when Jabez began to get impatient, the
school-teacher generally emigrated a little. Then they put a cinch
on him for true. They hired a woman teacher. When it came to
bluffin' a woman teacher, Jabez got tongue-handled so bad that once
did him for all time to come.

But the' wasn't any difference of opinion when it came to Barbie.
The' wasn't a man on the place who wasn't willin' to stretch a neck
for her. She knew 'em all by name an' used to tease 'em an'
contrairy 'em; but she never hid behind bein' the boss's daughter.
Any time they scored, she paid, an' that was the thing that made 'em
worship her. She had changed a lot in the five years I'd been away;
not only in size, in fact, that was the least noticed in her; but
she had more thinkin' spells.

It used to be that she made up to every one right from the start;
but now she was a little shy at first, especially with Easterners.
Easterners generally are about as tantalizin' as it's possible for a
human to get, but she had never minded 'em much until this summer.
Now she'd answer the first twenty-five or thirty fool questions
polite enough, but after that she got purty frosty an' would ask 'em
some questions herself that would straighten 'em up right short in
their tracks. About every time an Easterner would pull out I noticed
that she'd put a little wider heal on the bottom of her skirt.

But she was purty much the same with me, an' after the spring round-
up she used to keep me ridin' with her most o' the time when the'
wasn't anything actually demandin' my attention. It was just about
this time that Jabez hired a new man by the name of Bill Andrews. He
was about as near speak-less as a man ever gets, an' he wasn't much
liked by the rest of us; but be was a hard worker an' a good, all-
around hand, so he got along all right.

When the fall round-up came, Barbie surprised every one by sayin'
she wasn't goin' to do any of the ridin', but would wait until after
we'd got all the sortin' out an' brandin' done, an' would then come
out an' see the whole herd in a bunch. The' wasn't a thing the
matter with her health an' we all wondered what was her reason; but
I had my own private opinion--she was beginnin' to find out she was
a girl, an' she wasn't quite used to it.

We finally rounded up in the big bend of Spike Crick, an' the stuff
was in the suet, every one of 'em. Omaha was supposed to be straw
boss; but he was too easy-goin' an' generally let the men do about
as they pleased. Bill Andrews, the new man, had a sneer on his face
about half the time, an' one mornin' when I came in from night
ridin', he sez to a bunch o' the boys: "I didn't suppose the parlor
boarder ever risked any night dampness."

They all grinned, 'cause the' wasn't any jokes barred with us; but I
didn't grin. I walked over to the group an' I sez: "Is the' anybody
else in this outfit that has any o' that brand o' supposin' about
'im?"

"Aw sit down, Happy," they sez; an' "What's the matter, Happy; you
gettin' tender?" an' such like things; but Bill Andrews continued to
sit an' grin, so I sez to him: "As a rule, the last comer in an
outfit has sense enough to either use his eyes or ask questions. I
admit that this is a purty easy-goin' place,--they don't even ask
where a man comes from when they take him on,--but I've been here
off an' on for some time, an' I reckon that the boss is able to
figger out whether or not I've been worth what I cost."

"Yes," sez Andrews, slow an' drawly, "the boss--or his daughter."

Three o' the boys grabbed me, but Andrews never moved; so I let go
of my gun an' sez, "It seems 'at you're the kind of a hound 'at
picks out a safe time to snarl--but the' 'll be other times."

"Any time you wish," sez he, "but I didn't mean what you seem to
think. I know well enough 'at the' 'll never be nothin' between you
an' her--the old man knows it too, an' you ain't kept here for
nothin' except to be her play-mate."

I was so blame mad I couldn't see. I couldn't speak. I was so
infernal het up that I choked an' spluttered; but when I got my
hands on his throat I put my finger-prints on his neck-bone. The
boys had a hard time tearin' us apart, an' a heap harder time
startin' Andrews goin' again; but as soon as he was able to talk, I
sez to him, "Now we ain't through with this yet. I'm willin' to give
you your choice of settlements, but you sure have to settle some
way. How do you want to settle?"

He had black blood--an' he was a coward. It's the hardest mix-up a
man ever has to deal with. He jumped to his feet, his face all
twisted up in a wolf-snarl, but he couldn't look me in the eyes, an'
he finally tries to smile. Its a weak, sickly affair, but it is a
smile all right, an' he sez, "We'll just compete to see which is the
best man at a round-up, an' we'll settle it that way. The' ain't no
use of us makin' fools of ourselves over nothin' at all. I was just
jokin' an' I didn't think you'd be so blame pernicious about boldin'
down an easy snap; so as the' ain't really nothin' between us, we'll
settle it that way."

I had been doin' some quick thinkin' while he was talkin', an' when
he finished, I broke out laughin', "Why, you blame rookie," sez I,
"you don't really think I was mad, do you? I see 'at you was only
jokin' right from the start, but I wanted to do a little play-actin'
for the boys here. That'll be the best way of all to settle it--see
who's the best man at a round-up."

He looked some relieved when he laughed--an' then he rubbed his
neck. I indulged in some hoss-play with Omaha, an' began to eat my
breakfast; but all the time I was thinkin'. I was thinkin' several
different ways too: first, was the' some truth in what Bill Andrews
had said--was I gettin' to be nothin' but the playmate of a girl?
Then I wondered if Jabez had studied over it any--I never had myself
before. I knew that he never cared nothin' about my wages, knowin'
that I had saved him more the night I brought Monody back than he'd
ever pay me--but I didn't want to be pensioned, an' I didn't care to
be looked on as the ranch watchdog. But the thing that finally came
an' refused to leave was a question--what right did I have to waste
the best part of my life loafin' around with a child? The' was a lot
more o' these pesterin' questions; but they all finally perched on
Bill Andrews an' made me want to blow him up with dynamite.