Mr. Jack Hamlin's Mediation by Bret Harte


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Page 29

I grieve to say that the goat was at once christened by Rocky
Canyon as "The Reverend Billy," and the minister himself was
Billy's "brother." More than that, when an attempt was made by
outsiders, during the service, to inveigle the tethered goat into
his old butting performances, and he took not the least notice of
their insults and challenges, the epithet "blanked hypocrite" was
added to his title.

Had he really reformed? Had his pastoral life with his nymph-like
mistress completely cured him of his pugnacious propensity, or had
he simply found it was inconsistent with his dancing, and seriously
interfered with his "fancy steps"? Had he found tracts and hymn-
books were as edible as theatre posters? These were questions that
Rocky canyon discussed lightly, although there was always the more
serious mystery of the relations of the Reverend Mr. Withholder,
Polly Harkness, and the goat towards each other. The appearance of
Polly at church was no doubt due to the minister's active canvass
of the districts. But had he ever heard of Polly's dancing with
the goat? And where in this plain, angular, badly dressed Polly
was hidden that beautiful vision of the dancing nymph which had
enthralled so many? And when had Billy ever given any suggestion
of his Terpsichorean abilities--before or since? Were there any
"points" of the kind to be discerned in him now? None! Was it not
more probable that the Reverend Mr. Withholder had himself been
dancing with Polly, and been mistaken for the goat? Passengers who
could have been so deceived with regard to Polly's beauty might
have as easily mistaken the minister for Billy. About this time
another incident occurred which increased the mystery.

The only male in the settlement who apparently dissented from the
popular opinion regarding Polly was a new-comer, Jack Filgee.
While discrediting her performance with the goat,--which he had
never seen,--he was evidently greatly prepossessed with the girl
herself. Unfortunately, he was equally addicted to drinking, and
as he was exceedingly shy and timid when sober, and quite
unpresentable at other times, his wooing, if it could be so called,
progressed but slowly. Yet when he found that Polly went to
church, he listened so far to the exhortations of the Reverend Mr.
Withholder as to promise to come to "Bible class" immediately after
the Sunday service. It was a hot afternoon, and Jack, who had kept
sober for two days, incautiously fortified himself for the ordeal
by taking a drink before arriving. He was nervously early, and
immediately took a seat in the empty church near the open door.
The quiet of the building, the drowsy buzzing of flies, and perhaps
the soporific effect of the liquor caused his eyes to close and his
head to fall forward on his breast repeatedly. He was recovering
himself for the fourth time when he suddenly received a violent
cuff on the ear, and was knocked backward off the bench on which he
was sitting. That was all he knew.

He picked himself up with a certain dignity, partly new to him, and
partly the result of his condition, and staggered, somewhat bruised
and disheveled, to the nearest saloon. Here a few frequenters who
had seen him pass, who knew his errand and the devotion to Polly
which had induced it, exhibited a natural concern.

"How's things down at the gospel shop?" said one. "Look as ef
you'd been wrastlin' with the Sperit, Jack!"

"Old man must hev exhorted pow'ful," said another, glancing at his
disordered Sunday attire.

"Ain't be'n hevin' a row with Polly? I'm told she slings an awful
left."

Jack, instead of replying, poured out a dram of whiskey, drank it,
and putting down his glass, leaned heavily against the counter as
he surveyed his questioners with a sorrow chastened by reproachful
dignity.

"I'm a stranger here, gentlemen," he said slowly "ye've known me
only a little; but ez ye've seen me both blind drunk and sober, I
reckon ye've caught on to my gin'ral gait! Now I wanter put it to
you, ez fair-minded men, ef you ever saw me strike a parson?"

"No," said a chorus of sympathetic voices. The barkeeper, however,
with a swift recollection of Polly and the Reverend Withholder, and
some possible contingent jealousy in Jack, added prudently, "Not
yet."

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Mon 22nd Dec 2025, 6:28