I have not deemed it necessary to indicate to the intelligent reader all of the theories which obtained in Five Forks during the erection of the building.Some of them may be readily imagined.
That the "Hag" had, by artful coyness and systematic reticence, at last completely subjugated the "Fool," and that the new house was intended for the nuptial bower of the (predestined) unhappy pair, was, of course, the prevailing opinion.But when, after a reasonable time had elapsed, and the house still remained untenanted, the more exasperating conviction forced itself upon the general mind, that the "Fool" had been for the third time imposed upon; when two months had elapsed, and there seemed no prospect of a mistress for the new house,--I think public indignation became so strong, that, had the "Hag" arrived, the marriage would have been publicly prevented.But no one appeared that seemed to answer to this idea of an available tenant; and all inquiry of Mr.Hawkins as to his intention in building a house, and not renting it, or occupying it, failed to elicit any further information.The reasons that he gave were felt to be vague, evasive, and unsatisfactory.He was in no hurry to move, he said.When he WASready, it surely was not strange that he should like to have his house all ready to receive him.He was often seen upon the veranda, of a summer evening, smoking a cigar.It is reported that one night the house was observed to be brilliantly lighted from garret to basement; that a neighbor, observing this, crept toward the open parlor-window, and, looking in, espied the "Fool"accurately dressed in evening costume, lounging upon a sofa in the drawing-room, with the easy air of socially entertaining a large party.Notwithstanding this, the house was unmistakably vacant that evening, save for the presence of the owner, as the witness afterward testified.When this story was first related, a few practical men suggested the theory that Mr.Hawkins was simply drilling himself in the elaborate duties of hospitality against a probable event in his history.A few ventured the belief that the house was haunted.The imaginative editor of the Five Forks "Record" evolved from the depths of his professional consciousness a story that Hawkins's sweetheart had died, and that he regularly entertained her spirit in this beautifully furnished mausoleum.
The occasional spectacle of Hawkins's tall figure pacing the veranda on moonlight nights lent some credence to this theory, until an unlooked-for incident diverted all speculation into another channel.
It was about this time that a certain wild, rude valley, in the neighborhood of Five Forks, had become famous as a picturesque resort.Travellers had visited it, and declared that there were more cubic yards of rough stone cliff, and a waterfall of greater height, than any they had visited.Correspondents had written it up with extravagant rhetoric and inordinate poetical quotation.
Men and women who had never enjoyed a sunset, a tree, or a flower, who had never appreciated the graciousness or meaning of the yellow sunlight that flecked their homely doorways, or the tenderness of a midsummer's night, to whose moonlight they bared their shirt-sleeves or their tulle dresses, came from thousands of miles away to calculate the height of this rock, to observe the depth of this chasm, to remark upon the enormous size of this unsightly tree, and to believe with ineffable self-complacency that they really admired Nature.And so it came to pass, that, in accordance with the tastes or weaknesses of the individual, the more prominent and salient points of the valley were christened; and there was a "Lace Handkerchief Fall," and the "Tears of Sympathy Cataract," and one distinguished orator's "Peak," and several "Mounts" of various noted people, living or dead, and an "Exclamation-Point," and a "Valley of Silent Adoration." And, in course of time, empty soda-water bottles were found at the base of the cataract, and greasy newspapers, and fragments of ham-sandwiches, lay at the dusty roots of giant trees.With this, there were frequent irruptions of closely-shaven and tightly-cravated men, and delicate, flower-faced women, in the one long street of Five Forks, and a scampering of mules, and an occasional procession of dusty brown-linen cavalry.
A year after "Hawkins's Idiot Asylum" was completed, one day there drifted into the valley a riotous cavalcade of "school-marms,"teachers of the San Francisco public schools, out for a holiday.
Not severely-spectacled Minervas, and chastely armed and mailed Pallases, but, I fear, for the security of Five Forks, very human, charming, and mischievous young women.At least, so the men thought, working in the ditches, and tunnelling on the hillside;and when, in the interests of science, and the mental advancement of juvenile posterity, it was finally settled that they should stay in Five Forks two or three days for the sake of visiting the various mines, and particularly the "Blazing Star" tunnel, there was some flutter of masculine anxiety.There was a considerable inquiry for "store-clothes," a hopeless overhauling of old and disused raiment, and a general demand fox "boiled shirts" and the barber.
Meanwhile, with that supreme audacity and impudent hardihood of the *** when gregarious, the school-marms rode through the town, admiring openly the handsome faces and manly figures that looked up from the ditches, or rose behind the cars of ore at the mouths of tunnels.Indeed, it is alleged that Jenny Forester, backed and supported by seven other equally shameless young women, had openly and publicly waved her handkerchief to the florid Hercules of Five Forks, one Tom Flynn, formerly of Virginia, leaving that good-natured but not over-bright giant pulling his blonde mustaches in bashful amazement.
