American essays; Short stories, American; Western stories
We left the Doctor and his wife early the next morning, and reached Fort
Desolation at night-fall. The orderly had preceded us a short distance,
and, when the ambulance stopped at the Captain's quarters, Mrs. Arnold
appeared on the threshold, holding a lantern in her hand. She raised it,
to let the light fall into the ambulance; and as the rays fell on her
own face, I could see that she looked like--a sister I had. The Captain
was absent, inspecting the picket-posts he had established along the
river, and would return by morning, Mrs. Arnold said; and she busied
herself with me in a pleasant, pretty manner. She could not resemble me
in height or figure, I said to myself, for she was smaller and more
delicately made; nor had any one in our family such deep-blue eyes, save
mother--we children had to content ourselves with gray ones.
The night outside was dark and chilly; but in the Captain's house there
were light and warmth, and it was bright with the fires that burned in
the fireplaces of the different rooms--all opening one into the other. I
was forcibly struck with the difference between the quarters at Fort
---- and Mrs. Arnold's home at Fort Desolation. Comforts (luxuries, in
this country) of all kinds made it attractive: bright carpets were on
the floors here; while at the Doctor's quarters at Fort ----, one was
always reminded of cold feet and centipedes, when looking at the naked
_adobe_ floors. Embroidered covers were spread on the tables and white
coverlets on the beds; while at the Doctor's all these things were made
hideous by hospital-linen and gray blankets. Easy-chairs and lounges,
manufactured from flour-barrels, saw-bucks, and candle-boxes, were made
gorgeous and comfortable with red calico and sheep's-wool; but the
crowning glory of parlor, bed-room, and sitting-room was a dazzling
toilet-set of china--gilt-edged, and sprinkled with delicate bouquets of
moss-roses and foliage.
"Where _did_ you get it?" I asked, in astonishment--_not_ envy.
"Isn't it pretty?" she asked, triumphantly. "The Captain's
quartermaster, Lieutenant Rockdale, brought it from Santa Fé for me, and
paid, a mint of money for it, no doubt."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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