David Dunne: A Romance of the Middle West — John Shaqi
David Dunne: A Romance of the Middle WestManiates, Belle Kanaris
General
David Dunne: A Romance of the Middle West
Maniates, Belle Kanaris
Middle West -- Fiction
"Dave," he counseled in farewell, "I hope you'll come to love some
good gal. Every man orter hev a hearth of his own. This stretchin'
yer feet afore other folks' firesides is unnateral and lonesome.
Thar's no place so snug and safe fer a man as his own home, with a
good wife to keep it. But I want you tew make me a promise, Dave. When
I see the time's ripe fer pickin' in politics, will you come back?"
"I will, Uncle Barnabas," promised David solemnly.
The heartiest approval came from Joe.
"That's right, Dave, see all you can of the world instead of settling
down in a pasture lot at Lafferton."
CHAPTER II
Gilbert, complacent and affable, returned to Washington accompanied by
David. A month later the newly made consul sailed from New York for
South America. He landed at a South American seaport that had a fine
harbor snugly guarded by jutting cliffs skirting the base of a hill
barren and severe in aspect.
As he walked down the narrow, foreign streets thronged with a strange
people, and saw the structures with their meaningless signs, he began
to feel a wave of homesickness. Then, looking up, he felt that little
inner thrill that comes from seeing one's flag in a foreign land.
"And that is why I am here," he thought, "to keep that flag flying."
He resolutely started out on the first day to keep the flag flying in
the manner befitting the kind of a consul he meant to be. He
maintained a strict watch over the commercial conditions, and his
reports of consular news were promptly rendered in concise and
instructive form. His native tact and inherent courtesy won him favor
with the government, his hospitality and kindly intent conciliated the
natives, and he was soon also accorded social privileges. He began to
enjoy life. His duties were interesting, and his leisure was devoted
to the pursuit of novel pleasures.
Fletcher Wilder, the son of the president of an American mining
company, was down there ostensibly to look after his father's
interests, but in reality to take out pleasure parties in his trim
little yacht, and David soon came to be the most welcome guest that
set foot on its deck.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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