Lin

“ Passing each busy prospector, Lin would read on every broad, upturned pair of overalls the same label, “Levi Strauss, No. 2,” with a picture of two lusty horses hitched to one of these garments and vainly struggling to split them asunder. Lin remembered he was wearing a label just like that too, and when he considered all things he laughed to himself. Then, having stretched the ache out of his long legs, he would return to his ditch. As autumn wore on, his feet grew cold in the mushy gravel they were sunk in. He beat off the sand that had stiffened on his boots, and hated Obo, Nevada. ”

“ Nevertheless his eyes were as keen as sharp swords.
With shaking hand Trent applied the lighted match to the chips of fir and pine. They flared up joyously. Had they not been aged and dried for many years by Mu Lin for the moment that would be for him the culmination of his dreams, perhaps bringing him youth once more? But always Mu Lin had hesitated. Suppose his experiment failed, suppose his golden girl was devoured by the flames that consumed the amber. Suppose youth should always remain beyond his fingertips even though success crowned his efforts. ”

“ For he had first known Lin, the boy of nineteen, supreme in length of limb and recklessness, breaking horses and feeling for an early mustache. Next, when the mustache was nearly accomplished, he had mended the boy’s badly broken thigh at Drybone. His skill (and Lin’s spotless health) had wrought so swift a healing that the surgeon overflowed with the pride of science, and over the bandages would explain the human body technically to his wild-eyed and flattered patient. Thus young Lin heard all about tibia, and comminuted, and other glorious new words, and when sleepless would rehearse them. ”

“ The hard cider was kept in the cellar, the sweet cider upstairs. Uncle Joe was as mellow as a pippin. At the end of Lin's first chorus he threw her a handful of change. The other men threw coppers or small silver pieces. Lin, like a true artist, stood unmoved and continued her song. Alfred picked up the money and handed it to her. She disdained to receive it. How the fires of jealousy burned within Alfred's breast as he noted the triumph of Lin. How the men could become so affected as to throw her money he could not comprehend. ”

“ She broke suddenly. "Oh, Lin. I don't know what I want. I don't want to leave you. I'm afraid. Or maybe I'm not. I don't know. It's all a rotten mess. Why couldn't we have met normally so that if—" She bit her lip and turned away.
The taxi hummed along for several blocks while they were silent. When Lin spoke his voice was low and serious. "Maybe I feel that way too," he said. "But—you know what's wrong with it? We're running away. It's like being an escaped criminal with a death sentence hanging over you." ”

“ The sun beats down as on a roof of zinc, fierce and dull. Not a drop of water to a mile of sand. The mean ash-dump landscape stretches on from nowhere to nowhere, a spot of mange. No portion of the earth is more lacquered with paltry, unimportant ugliness.
There is gold in Nevada, but Lin and Honey did not find it. Prospecting of the sort they did, besides proving unfruitful, is not comfortable. Now and again, losing patience, Lin would leave his work and stalk about and gaze down at the scattered men who stooped or knelt in the water. ”

“ Honey and Lin sat for a while, making few observations and far between, as their way is between whom flows a stream of old-time understanding. Mutual whiskey and silence can express much friendship, and eloquently.
“What are yu' doing at present?” Lin inquired.
“Prospectin'.”
Now prospecting means hunting gold, except to such spirits as the boy Lin. To these it means finding gold. So Lin McLean listened to the talk of his friend Honey Wiggin as the caboose trundled through the night. He saw himself in a vision of the near future enter a bank and thump down a bag of gold-dust. ”

“ Lin always sent money for Wiggin to place, and he soon opened a bank account, while Honey, besides his racing-bridle, bought a silver-inlaid one, a pair of forty-dollar spurs, and a beautiful saddle richly stamped. Every day (when in Mesa) Honey would step into the drug-store and inquire, “Lin, wher're yu' goin'?”
But Lin never answered any more. He merely came to the soda-water fountain with the whiskey. The passing of days brought a choked season of fine sand and hard blazing sky. Heat rose up from the ground and hung heavily over man and beast. ”

“ The next thing that I knew Ogden and I were grappling with Lin McLean; for everything had happened at once. The bride had swooped upon her first wedded love and burst into tears on the man's neck, which Lin was trying to break in consequence. We do not always recognize our benefactors at sight. They all came to the ground, and we hauled the second husband off. The lady and Lusk remained in a heap, he foolish, tearful, and affectionate; she turned furiously at bay, his guardian angel, indifferent to the onlooking crowd, and hurling righteous defiance at Lin. ”

“ Chia Lien upon hearing this remark, lowered his head and gave himself to protracted reflection. "You're indeed grown dull!" he cried; "why you've a precedent ready at hand to suit your case! Cousin Lin's birthday affords a precedent, and what you did in former years for cousin Lin, you can in this instance likewise do for cousin Hsüeh, and it will be all right."
At these words lady Feng gave a sarcastic smile. ”

“ The stakes at this point fell from his pocket, which he did not notice. But the bride had them in safe-keeping at once.
"Who are yu', anyway—when yu' ain't drunk?" demanded Lin.
"He's as good a man as you, and better," snorted the guardian angel. "Give him a pistol, and he'll make you hard to find."
"Well, you listen to me, Sidney Nebraska—" Lin began.
"No, no," corrected Lusk once more, as a distant whistle blew—"Jim."
"Good-by, gentlemen," said the rain-maker. "That's the west-bound. I'm perfectly satisfied with my experiment here, and I'm off to repeat it at Salt Lake City." ”

“ The man's hand seized it and jerked it from the machine, dropping it into the flame in the wire wastebasket.
And from some automatic feed a new sheet came into view on the platen, and the man continued his typing, his fingers moving with great rapidity and without letup.
Lin straightened and stepped back a bit so as not to startle the man. He coughed loudly and said, "Hello, there."
The rhythm of the man's typing didn't vary. He gave no indication of having heard.
Slightly annoyed, Lin reached out and tapped him firmly on the shoulder. Still no result. ”

“ On the morrow the middle-man returned and reported to Yin that Lin would on no consideration consent to let him have the ground. "The fact is," he continued, "that Lin has a settled purpose in his mind with which this particular plot of land has a good deal to do. He and his wife are getting on in years, and when the daughter is married off he is afraid that his branch of the family will become extinct; so he plans to get a husband for her who will come into the home and act the part of a son as well as that of son-in-law." ”

“ But yus never did such things to me, fer there's a gentleman in you somewheres, Lin. And yus didn't never hit me, not even when you come to know me well. And when I seen you so unexpected again to-night, and you just the same old Lin, scaring Lusk with shooting them chickens, so comic and splendid, I could 'a' just killed Lusk sittin' in the wagon. Say, Lin, what made yus do that, anyway?”
“I can't hardly say,” said the cow-puncher. “Only noticing him so turruble anxious to quit me—well, a man acts without thinking.”
“You always did, Lin. You was always a comical genius. ”

“ Go and get Mr. Lin, the owner of the stolen duck, to scold freely. The harder he scolds, the sooner will your feathers drop out."
Now, of course, some readers will laugh and say, "But this was only a silly dream, and meant nothing." Mr. Wang, however, did not think in this way. He woke up very happy. He would go to Mr. Lin, confess everything and take the scolding. Then he would be free of his feathers and would go to work. Truly he had led a lazy life. What the good Fairy Old Boy had said about his father and mother had hurt him very badly, for he knew that every word was true. ”

“ Lin, tall and brooding leaned against the jutting sill of the window, a figure somehow plainly strange in town, while through the bright plate-glass Santa Claus, holding out his beer and sausages, perpetually beamed.
Billy was laboring gallantly, but it was labor, the cow-puncher perceived, and Billy no seasoned expert. “See here,” said Lin, stooping, “I'll show yu' how it's done. He's playin' that toon cross-eyed enough to steer anybody crooked. There. Keep your blacking soft, and work with a dry brush.” ”

“ MANY WIVES
This is the story that Kung Lin tells, hour after hour, in the peaceful shade of Bell that Rings Often Temple. The people have relish for Kung Lin's favorite story and give him much money. The tattered old fellow sometimes receives as much as five cents—in a single day. ”

“ He's not so ornery as he's cracked up to be. It's the devilish clique he runs with that's spiled him," and, with this, carried another helping of food to the boy.
Half in earnest, half in fun, Lin said: "Durn ye, ye can be good ef ye want to, but it jes' seems like ye don't want to. Ef ye ever do another thing to 'Al-f-u-r-d' I'll scald all the hair off yer freckled head."
[40] Cousin Charley laughed and chided Lin into further good humor, confiding to her the interesting information that he was going to work from daylight to dark. This declaration captured Lin. ”

“ The cow-puncher was checking his own trunk to Omaha.
“Good-bye and good luck to you,” continued the bishop, giving his hand to Lin. “And look here—don't you think you might leave that 'getting full' out of your plans?”
Lin gave a slightly shamefaced grin. “I don't guess I can, sir,” he said. “I'm givin' yu' straight goods, yu' see,” he added.
“That's right. But you look like a man who could stop when he'd had enough. Try that. You're man enough—and come and see me whenever we're in the same place.”
He went to the hotel. There were several hours for Lin to wait. ”

“ Lin looked surprised as she repeated, "Nite an' day? An' what do ye s'pose they is up tu, Mrs. Beckley?"
[334] "Well, I dunno. Node's allus got some notion or other in his head. I never pay no tension to him; ef hit ain't one thing hit's anuther. I rekon hit's a patent rite concern. He's been putterin' on pattern things ever sence we wus married."
"Do they run out at nite much, Node an' Alfurd?" Lin asked.
"Why, every blessed nite and all day Sundays."
Lin suggested: "Maybe they go to Baptus meetin'. Thar havin' a revivul; maybe Node an' Alfurd's thinkin' of jinin' the Baptus Church." ”

“ And Lin—your Lin, not mine, nor never mine in heart for a day so deep as he's yourn right now—he has been gay—gay as any I've knowed. Why, look at that face of his! Could a boy with a face like that help bein' gay? But that don't touch what's the true Lin deep down. Nor will his deep-down love for you hinder him like it will hinder you. Don't you know men and us is different when it comes to passion? We're all one thing then, but they ain't simple. They keep along with lots of other things. I can't make yus know, and I guess it takes a woman like I have been to learn their nature. ”

“ A Mr. Lin of Ch‘ang-shan was extremely fat, and so fond of wine [240] that he would often finish a pitcher by himself. However, he owned about fifty acres of land, half of which was covered with millet, and being well off, he did not consider that his drinking would bring him into trouble. One day a foreign Buddhist priest saw him, and remarked that he appeared to be suffering from some extraordinary complaint. Mr. Lin said nothing was the matter with him; whereupon the priest asked him if he often got drunk. ”

“ Lin's denunciations of those who had devastated her pantry of the coarse as well as her daintiest cooking, was of the strongest. Lin was very proud of her skill as a cook. When the truth came out and she learned that "Al-f-u-r-d" was the culprit, she immediately began making excuses for the boy, and when his screams from the cellar penetrated the kitchen, Lin's sympathy was fully aroused. With the rolling pin in one hand, flour to her elbows on her bare, muscular arms, she rushed into the cellar, with flushed face and confronted the parent:
"Lin"
"Hold on yer, hold on! ”

“ Lin watched her leave the room, then turned with a grin to the doctors.
"I'll live," he said confidently. "I'll live. Nothing can kill me now—so long as that sheet of paper remains intact."
He didn't mind at all the way the two men looked at each other with lifted eyebrows.
The door swished open. The nurse came in. "There's a man down in the waiting room who wants to see you, Mr. Grant," she said. "He gave his name as Hugo Fairchild."
Lin frowned. "You sure he wants to see me?" he asked. ”

“ So Miss Stone turned her pony in that direction.
“When do your folks eat supper?” inquired Lin.
“Half-past six. Oh, we've lots of time! Come on.”
“How many miles per hour do you figure that cayuse of yourn can travel?” Lin asked.
“What are you a-talking about, anyway? You're that strange to-day,” said the lady.
“Only if we try to make that canyon, I guess you'll be late settin' the colonel's table,” Lin remarked, his hazel eyes smiling upon her. “That is, if your horse ain't good for twenty miles an hour. Mine ain't, I know. But I'll do my best to stay with yu'.” ”