Chicago (Ill.) -- History -- To 1875 -- Fiction; Fires -- Fiction; Great Fire, Chicago, Ill., 1871 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
"What a unique character that Dennis Fleet is! And yet, in view of
what he believes and professes, he is both natural and consistent. He
seems humble only in station, and that is not his fault. Everything
he does seems marked by unusual good taste and intelligence. His earlier
position and treatment in the store must have been very galling. I can
hardly believe that the gentleman I sang Mendelssohn's music with the
other evening was the same that I laughed at as he blacked old
Schwartz's boots. And yet he saw me laugh, and blacked the boots,
conscious that he was a gentleman. It must have been very hard. And
yet I would rather do such work myself than live on charity, and so
undoubtedly he felt. It is very fortunate that we nearly finished the
rearrangement of the pictures before all this occurred, for I could
not order him about now as I have done. The fact is, I like servants,
not dignified helpers; and knowing what I do, even if he would permit
it, I could not speak to him as formerly. But he did show wonderful
taste and skill in his help. See now that little ivy-twined basket of
luscious fruit: it looks just like him. If he were only rich and titled,
what a genuine nobleman he would make! He is among the few men who do
not weary or disgust me; so many are coarse and commonplace. I cannot
understand it, but I, who fear and care for no one except my father,
almost feared him when under Miss Brown's insolence he looked as few
men can. What a jumble the world is! He sweeps the store, while
insignificant atoms of men are conspicuous in their littleness by
reason of high position.
"It was very kind of him to send me this tasteful gift after the
miserable experience I caused him the other day. I suppose he does it
on the principle of returning good for evil, as his creed teaches.
Moreover, he seems grateful that father gave him employment, and a
chance to earn twice what he receives. He certainly must be promoted
at once.
"Perhaps," thought she, smiling to herself, while a faint tinge of
color came into her cheeks--"perhaps, like so many others, he may be
inclined to be a little sentimental also, though he will never be as
silly as some of them.
"What a noble part he acted toward those Bruders! The heart of a pagan
could not fail to be touched by that poor little fellow's story, and
it has made me believe that I have more heart than I supposed.
Sometimes, especially when I hear or read of some such noble deed, I
catch glimpses of a life infinitely better than the one I know, like
the sun shining through a rift in the clouds; then they shut down
again, and father's practical wisdom seems the best there is.
"At any rate," she said aloud, getting up and walking the floor with
something of the old restless energy, "I intend to live while I live,
and crowd into life's brief day all that I can. I thank Mr. Fleet for
a few sensations in what would otherwise have been a monotonous, dreary
afternoon."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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