American fiction -- 19th century; California -- Fiction; Contra Costa County (Calif.) -- Fiction; Western stories
The current whispered, murmured, and sang, unheeded at his side. The
voices of his mother and sisters, raised at times in eagerness or
expectation of the future, fell upon his unlistening ears. For with the
spell that had come upon him, the mean walls of his hiding-place
melted away; the vulgar stream beside him might have been that dim,
subterraneous river down which Sindbad and his bale of riches were swept
out of the Cave of Death to the sunlight of life and fortune, so surely
and so simply had it transported him beyond the cramped and darkened
limits of his present life. He was in the better world of boyish
romance,--of gallant deeds and high emprises; of miraculous atonement
and devoted sacrifice; of brave men, and those rarer, impossible
women,--the immaculate conception of a boy's virgin heart. What mattered
it that behind that glittering window his mother and sisters grew
feverish and excited over the vulgar details of their real but baser
fortune? From the dark tool-shed by the muddy current, John Milton,
with a battered dogs'-eared chronicle, soared on the wings of fancy far
beyond their wildest ken!
CHAPER V.
Prosperity had settled upon the plains of Tasajara. Not only had the
embarcadero emerged from the tules of Tasajara Creek as a thriving town
of steamboat wharves, warehouses, and outlying mills and factories, but
in five years the transforming railroad had penetrated the great plain
itself and revealed its undeveloped fertility. The low-lying lands that
had been yearly overflowed by the creek, now drained and cultivated,
yielded treasures of wheat and barley that were apparently
inexhaustible. Even the helpless indolence of Sidon had been surprised
into activity and change. There was nothing left of the straggling
settlement to recall its former aspect. The site of Harkutt's old store
and dwelling was lost and forgotten in the new mill and granary that
rose along the banks of the creek. Decay leaves ruin and traces for the
memory to linger over; prosperity is unrelenting in its complete and
smiling obliteration of the past.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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