of all polly’s new friends, not one took a warmer interest in the young idea-vendor than that first customer of hers, miss beatrice compton. miss beatrice was a warm-hearted and enthusiastic girl, who never did anything by halves; and when she talked of polly, of polly’s skill and of polly’s originality, when she extolled polly’s eyes and polly’s hair, polly’s wit and polly’s sweetness, few listeners remained quite unmoved and incurious. among the many who were thus stirred to seek out this youthful paragon, was miss compton’s brother-in-law, mr. horace clapp. nor was an idle curiosity his only motive in taking the step. beneath the pretext he found for paying the visit lurked a rather shamefaced 174 purpose of doing this “plucky little genius” a good turn.
it happened, therefore, one morning in december, that polly came home from her marketing to find a stranger sitting in her porch. a dog-cart, driven by a groom in livery, was passing and repassing her door; and one look at the occupant of the porch sufficed to fix the connection between the two. he was a well-dressed man of thirty or more, who rose as she opened the gate and saluted her as if she had been a duchess.
“miss polly fitch?” he inquired, as he stood before her, hat in hand.
it was noticeable that no one ever omitted the “polly” from the girl’s name. it seemed as much a part of her as the ruddy hair and the dimple in her chin. that dimple, by the way, should have been mentioned long ago; but that, in its turn, was so essential a feature, that one would as soon think it necessary to state that polly’s nose had an upward tilt as that her chin had a dimple. any one who had ever heard of polly must know 175 that her nose would tilt and her chin have a dimple.
polly had a large market-basket on her arm, and as she felt in her pocket for the key to the front door, her visitor took possession of the basket. she was a good deal impressed by the attention from so magnificent a personage, and one, moreover, of advanced years. she began to think that she must be mistaken about his being thirty; why, that was cousin john’s age, and cousin john was quite an oldish man. she motioned her visitor to enter, and it must be admitted that there was no oppressive reverence in her tone as she said:
“if you would tell me your name, now we should be starting fair!”
“my name is horace clapp. did you ever hear of me?”
“no, i don’t think so. ought i to have?”
“well, no, there’s no obligation in the matter. i only had an idea that i was a local celebrity, like you.”
“like me?” 176
“yes! you’re a surprise to the town and so am i.”
“what have you done to surprise the town?” asked polly, filled with curiosity.
“i’ve only got rich very fast.”
“why, so have i!” said polly. “we are a good deal alike.”
“really? then you will be in an even better position to advise me than i thought for.”
“i supposed you had come for an idea,” said polly, as naturally as if her wares had consisted in tape and buttons.
offering her visitor the only fairly comfortable chair in the room, she seated herself by the window, near which was one of the draped barrels with her work-basket on top.
“you won’t mind my sewing, please,” she said, picking up a bit of embroidery; “i can think better that way.”
the new customer meanwhile was wondering whether miss polly would guess that he had come partly from curiosity, and partly with that other far more daring motive of finding a way to do her a service. 177 and yet, who could tell? perhaps she could give him a hint; perhaps she was the youthful sibyl people seemed half inclined to believe her.
“miss polly,” he said, leaning forward in his chair, with his elbows on his knees,—“miss polly, i’ve got an awful lot of money, and i don’t know what to do with it.”
mere words had not often the power of staying polly’s needle, but at this astounding declaration she actually let her work fall in her lap, and gazed with wide-eyed wonder at the speaker.
“yes,” he went on, “i really want to do some good with it, and i’ve tried in lots of ways and i’ve never hit it off. i should just like to tell you about some of the things i’ve made a fizzle of in the last year,—if it wouldn’t bore you?”
“oh, no, it wouldn’t bore me; nothing ever does. only,—i can’t understand it. why, i think i could give away a thousand dollars a year just there at home, where we used to live, and every dollar of it would be well spent!” 178
“yes, miss polly,” he said very meekly, “but, you see, what i’ve got to consider is two hundred thousand dollars a year!”
he looked positively ashamed of himself, and polly did not wonder. she had given a little gasp at mention of the sum; then she shook her head with decision. polly knew her limits.
“i haven’t any ideas big enough for that” she said. “i should as soon think of advising the president of the united states!”
“well, if you won’t advise me about mine, perhaps you will tell me what you are going to do with your own riches. you said you were getting rich, did you not? you know,” he added, “it isn’t necessary to make the map of a state as big as the state itself.”
“you have ideas, too,” polly remarked appreciatively, resuming her embroidery.
“but you have not told me how you are going to use your riches.”
“oh, i’m going to use mine for education.”
“going up to the college?” he asked. 179
“oh, no; there’d be no good in my knowing a lot. i’ve been nearly through the fieldham high school already, and the little that i’ve learned doesn’t seem to stick very well. no, indeed! i’m going to—” she paused with a feeling of loyalty to dan—“i’m only going to help on the general cause of education,” she finished demurely.
as she made this sphinx-like remark, mr. horace clapp wished she would relinquish the pursuit of wealth long enough to put her work down and let him see exactly what she meant.
“i think that is the best use to put money to,” he said gravely, “but i’m not in the way of knowing about people who need help. couldn’t you tell me of somebody, some young man who wanted to go to college, or some girl who would like to go abroad? of course, i could found a scholarship, or endow a ‘chair,’ but one likes a bit of the personal element in one’s work.”
polly’s heart gave a thump. here was a chance for dan; a word from her was 180 all that was needed to make his path an easy one. had she a right to withhold that word,—to cramp and hinder him? she did not speak for a good many seconds; she simply plied her needle with more and more diligence, while her breath came fast and unevenly. suddenly a furious blush went mounting up into her temples and spread itself down her neck. her visitor thought he had never seen any one blush like that, and it somehow struck him that his little plan was swamped. quite right he was, too. polly blushed to think that she had thought of dan in such a connection for a single instant.
it was very unreasoning, this impulse of rebellious shame: are we not admonished to help one another? and what could the helpers do if all their benefactions were indignantly thrust back? very unreasoning indeed, but natural!—natural as the colour of her hair and the quickness of her wit, natural as all the graces and virtues, all the misconceptions and foibles, that went to make up the personality of polly fitch,—of polly fitch, the daughter 181 of puritan ancestors; men and women who could starve, body and mind, but who never had learned to accept a charity.
before the flush had died away, polly was quite herself again, and looked up so brightly and sweetly that mr. clapp took heart of hope.
“you do know somebody like that; i’m sure you do!” he said insinuatingly.
“i?” said polly. “i know hardly anybody. but i’m sure the president of the college could tell you of a dozen boys who would be grateful for help.”
and so mr. horace clapp’s little plan had come to nought, and he took his leave more than ever convinced that it is a very difficult thing to spend one’s money in a good cause. as he stood a moment, waiting for his dog-cart, a boy came down the street with a parcel under his arm.
“say, mister, do you know whether daniel fitch lives here?” he asked.
“daniel fitch?” thought mr. clapp, as the boy turned in at the gate. “daniel fitch? where have i heard that name? oh, yes, beatrice said there was a brother; 182 runs errands for jones, the druggist. plucky children! it would be pleasant to give them a lift!”
as for polly, she had not a twinge of regret. in fact, she rather enjoyed dwelling upon the splendour of the opportunity she had thrust from her, the better to glory in her escape. and she looked forward with entire confidence to the time when she should test dan’s feeling on the point.
on christmas eve they hung up their stockings, fairly bulging with materialised jokes and ideas which the morning was to bring to light, and we may be sure that they did not wait for the lazy winter sun to put in an appearance before beginning their investigations. amid shouts of merriment the revelations of a remarkably inventive santa claus were greeted, while polly held her climbing excitement in check until the hour should be ripe for greater things. but when, at last, just as the sun was peeping in at the kitchen window, dan’s ferret fingers penetrated the extreme toe of his sock, she grew so agitated 183 that she quite forgot to make a certain witty observation she had been saving up for that particular moment. and so it came about that an unwonted silence reigned as the unsuspecting dan drew forth a small flat parcel labelled: “a merry christmas from polly.”
within was their familiar bank-book, wrapped about with a less familiar sheet of note-paper bearing the following inscription:
“an idea! namely, to wit: that daniel reddiman fitch, esq., lay aside his character of mercury, and become a student at colorado college!
“p. s.—an examination of the within balance will assure the said dan that there is nothing to prevent his thus delighting the heart of his faithful polly.”
a glance at the balance recorded, a reperusal of the “idea,” and the impressive silence was broken into a thousand fragments.
“for you see, dan,” polly explained, when, at last, she had secured a hearing, “i shouldn’t know what in the world to 184 do with so much money,—some rich people don’t, they say,—and i’ve got plenty of ideas to last us for years to come. then, just as they begin to give out, you’ll have got to be a mining engineer, with your pockets cram-full of money, and you’ll have to support me for the rest of my life. so i don’t see but that i’m getting the best of the bargain, after all!”
it all seemed perfectly natural to dan. this sister of his had always lent a hand when he needed it. of course he would accept her help, and let the future, the glorious, inexhaustible future straighten out the account between them. he did not express himself even in his inmost thoughts in any such high-flown manner as this. he simply gave an indian war-whoop, administered to polly a portentous hug, and declared for the hundredth time, “polly, you beat the world!”
when everything was thus amicably settled and dan had agreed to “give notice” in his capacity as mercury, the following day, polly said: “you won’t mind 185 being poor, will you, dan? you don’t wish we were rich, do you?”
“rich? why, we are rich!”
“but, dan, if any one came along and offered you a lot of money, say a thousand dollars a year, you wouldn’t take it, would you?”
“do you mean a stranger, polly, some one we hadn’t any claim on?”
“yes; but somebody who had such a lot he wouldn’t miss it. would you take it, dan? say, would you take it?”
“what a goose you are, polly! of course i wouldn’t take it! i would rather go back to the aug?ans for the rest of my life!”
on the evening of that momentous christmas day, our two young people had out their latin books and began industriously to polish up their somewhat rusty acquirements in that classic tongue. a year ago they might not have regarded this as precisely a holiday pastime, but their ideas had undergone a great change since then.
they sat at the little centre-table, the 186 ruddy head and the black one close together in the lamp-light, reading their cicero. a rap at the door seemed a rude interruption; yet so unusual was the excitement of an evening visitor that they could not be quite indifferent to the event,—the less so when the visitor proved to be polly’s client of the cumbrous income.
“good evening, miss polly,” he called, from the door, and polly fancied that his voice had a particularly cheerful ring in it. as he spoke, he glanced at dan, who had opened the door.
“this is my brother, dan. won’t you come in, mr. clapp?”
“with all the pleasure in the world, for i have come in the character of santa claus.”
“have you indeed?” thought polly to herself; “we’ll see about that!” perhaps there was something in her manner that betrayed her thoughts, for her visitor said, with evident amusement:
“you take alarm too easily, miss polly. i should as soon think of offering a gift in 187 my own name to,—to any other extremely rich young woman.”
“i was glad to hear that your brother’s name was dan,” he continued with apparent irrelevance, as he took his seat. “and more delighted still when i found out his middle name. didn’t it strike you,” he asked, turning abruptly to dan, “that your employer, mr. jones, was developing rather a sudden interest in your antecedents?”
“yes,” polly thought, “he is pleased about something.”
“why, yes,” dan answered, with boyish bluntness. “but what do you know about it?”
“only that it was i that put jones up to making his inquiries.”
“you?” dan looked half inclined to resent the liberty. but polly saw that there was something coming.
“would you mind telling us what it’s all about?” she asked. “you look as if you knew something nice.”
“i do; it’s one of the nicest things i ever knew in my life. i didn’t tell you 188 the other day, did i, that i had made most of my money in mines?”
“no,” said polly, wondering why he should want to tell them how he made “his old money.”
“well, that is the case; nearly all in one mine, too. it’s a great placer mine up north. i don’t suppose you know much about placer mines?”
polly, disclaiming such knowledge, tried to look politely interested, while dan’s interest, fortunately for his manners, was very genuine. was he not to be a mining engineer, and did he not want to learn all he could?
“well,” mr. clapp went on, “a placer mine is one where the gold lies embedded in the soil and has to be washed out, and if there doesn’t happen to be running water near by it costs an awful lot to bring it in.”
“yes,” said the polite polly, with a vision of a fire-brigade running about with buckets in their hands, as they used to do in fieldham.
“what they call hydraulic mining,” dan put in. 189
“yes, that’s it. big ditches to be dug, and all that sort of thing. well, this ‘big bonus mine’ was discovered twenty years ago. a company was started and the stock was put on the market at a dollar a share. the management made a mess of it, as a management usually does, and it fizzled out. it was believed that the thing was chock-full of gold, but they couldn’t get it out.”
polly was beginning to be interested; she usually did find things interesting when she gave her mind to them.
“well, what did they do?” asked dan.
“they gave it up for a bad job, and tried to forget all the money they had put into it.”
“then where did your money come from?”
“out of the ‘big bonus placer gold mine!’ we scoop it right out to-day.”
“i wish you’d go ahead!” said dan, for the guest had paused, and was examining the cicero.
“well, hydraulic mining improves, like every thing else, and three years ago a 190 new company was formed. luckily the old company had not gone into debt; perhaps they could not borrow money on their elephant. however that may be, they agreed to put half their stock back into the treasury, and it was sold at fifty cents a share, which gave us money to work with.”
“and it was a howling success!” cried dan. “i remember; i’ve heard all about it.”
“yes, we’ve paid out two dollars a share in dividends in the last six months, and the stock is held at fifteen or sixteen dollars a share to-day. the beauty of it is,” mr. horace clapp added, glancing quietly from dan to polly, “i am convinced that you are both stockholders.”
“we?” they cried in a breath.
“yes! for jones tells me that your father was a doctor; that his name was daniel reddiman fitch, and that he once lived in bington, ohio.”
“yes,” said polly; “that was when he was first married; before old doctor royce died, and left an opening in fieldham, 191 so that father came back home again.”
“the name of such a stockholder stands on our books, but we haven’t heretofore been able to trace him.”
“that’s why old jones pumped me so,” dan remarked, giving his mind first to the more familiar aspects of the case.
“what a pity he never knew!” said polly, with glistening eyes. “he was always so poor.”
“your father’s original holdings were five thousand shares, so that you are the possessors of twenty-five hundred shares. if you sell it pretty soon, as i think you may as well do, you will have something over forty thousand dollars to invest; for there is, in addition to the stock, five thousand dollars in back dividends due you.”
dan and polly looked at each other almost aghast; but that was only for a moment.
“why, dan, you can have a saddle-horse of your own!” cried polly.
“and so can you!” 192
“and we can—o mr. clapp, how rude we are!”
mr. clapp looked as if it were a kind of rudeness that he was enjoying very much. as he rose to go, he said:
“don’t you think i’m a pretty good sort of a santa claus after all, miss polly?”
polly seized his outstretched hand.
“i didn’t believe any one person could be so rich, and so good, too!” she declared.
“and, o dan!” cried polly, the minute they were alone together, “let’s send a new-year’s box home. there’ll be just time enough. we can get one of those great carriage rugs for uncle seth, and a china silk for aunt lucia.”
“and i’ll send cousin john’s boys some indian bows and arrows.”
“and cousin martha a dozen chinese cups and saucers.”
“and the old professor a meerschaum pipe.”
“and miss louisa bailey, and dear mrs. dodge, and the widow criswell,—what shall we send the widow criswell, dan?” 193
“some black-bordered pocket-handkerchiefs!” cried the irreverent dan.
before going to bed they stepped out on the porch to bid the peak good-night.
“going to be a fine day to-morrow, polly.”
“all the days are fine in colorado,” said polly.
“you forget the blizzard last month.”
“oh, but it was such a dear blizzard not to do you any harm when it caught you out!”
dan grew thoughtful.
“do you ever think, polly, that we should never have come out here if it hadn’t been for you?”
“you know it was ‘pike’s peak or bust!’ with both of us, dan.”
dan looked critically from the great peak, gleaming there in the starlight, to polly’s uplifted face, and then, as they turned to go in, he exclaimed, for the hundred-and-first time:
“polly, you beat the world!”
