Mr. Simmons

“ Simmons justice—how he could least ungracefully give him up. “I say, Searle,”—and for my benefit, I think, taking me for a native ingenuous enough to be dazzled by his wit, he lifted his voice a little and gave it an ironical ring—“in this country it’s the inestimable privilege of a loyal citizen, under whatsoever stress of pleasure or of pain, to make a point of eating his dinner.”
Mr. Searle gave his plate another push. “Anything may happen now. I don’t care a straw.”
“You ought to care. Have another chop and you will care. Have some better tipple. Take my advice!” Mr. Simmons went on. ”

“ Simmons, and are you really doing this?' and put her hand on that little girl of his. 'Orders are orders, ma'am!' What could I say? 'Ah!' she said, 'yes, orders are orders, but they needn't be obeyed.' 'As to that, ma'am,' I said—mind you, she's a lady; you can't help feeling that 'I'm a working man, the same as Tryst here; got to earn my living.' 'So have slave-drivers, Mr. Simmons.' 'Every profession,' I said, 'has got its dirty jobs, ma'am. ”

“ Simmons? I have no thought of betraying you, no wish to. I don't suppose I would try to send you to prison even if you had taken things. I am too unhappy myself to want to make others unhappy."
"It's a cruel shame," he thought, "and I'll chance waiting, lady; and you needn't worry as I'll touch things. Wait outside if you'd prefer."
"It is raining," she said. "You will be more comfortable here. If you are hungry, there are some things to eat in the sideboard. I will fetch the toys."
She went out. Mr. Simmons looked all round the room, and especially at the portrait on the mantelshelf. ”

“ Mr. Gossett seated himself in his buggy and drove away. Mrs. Simmons was standing in the door, her arms akimbo, when her husband returned to the house.
"Jimmy, you didn't go and apologize to that old buzzard for what I said, did you?"
Mr. Simmons laughed heartily at the idea, and when he repeated what he had said to Mr. Gossett his wife jumped at him, and kissed him, and then ran into the next room and cried a little. It's the one way that all women have of "cooling down," as Mr. Simmons would have expressed it. ”

“ Simmons accompanied the feast of color, insinuating but unheeded.
The other young man approached: "Here is what you want, miss--rich and elegant. Just suits your style. Sets off your hair and eyes beautiful."
The ladies looked up. A more decided voice than Mr. Simmons'; whiter hands than Mr. Simmons' handled the silken bands; bolder eyes than the weak, pink-bordered orbs of Mr. Simmons looked unabashed admiration into the pretty face of Susie Barringer.
"Look here, Simmons, old boy, introduce a fellow."
Mr. Simmons meekly obeyed: "Mrs. Barringer, let me interduce you to Mr. Leon of St. ”

“ I declared for the twentieth time as he rose to his feet. “You’ll live to bury Mr. Simmons.” He told me he had spent the hours of my absence with Miss Searle—they had strolled together half over the place. “You must be very intimate,” I smiled. ”

“ Your beer’s lovely,” he observed independently to the waiter. “I’ll have some more.”
“For God’s sake explain yourself!” his companion appealed.
There was a pause, at the end of which I heard Mr. Simmons set down his empty tankard with emphasis. “You poor morbid mooning man,” he resumed, “I don’t want to say anything to make you feel sore. I regularly pity you. But you must allow that you’ve acted more like a confirmed crank than a member of our best society—in which every one’s so sensible.”
Mr. Searle seemed to have made an effort to compose himself. ”

“ Mr. Simmons laid his hand down carefully on the table and went down in his carpet bag again. This time he drew out two $500 bills and laid them on top of the pot.
“I’m goin’ busted on this hand,” said Mr. Simmons. “ ’F I didn’t zhe boys ’n Encinal County ’d run me out for a coward. Whoop ’em up, cap’n.”
“Send Charlie over here,” said Captain Clancy to one of the bystanders. The fat man with the dyed mustache came over and whispered with the captain. Then he went away and came back with a stack of gold and bills and counted out the thousand dollars to call Mr. Simmons’ bet. ”

“ I answered that he had probably heard from his solicitor of the other’s visit. “Mr. Simmons and that gentleman must have had another interview since your arrival in England. Simmons, for reasons of his own, has made known to him your journey to this neighbourhood, and Mr. Searle, learning this, has immediately taken for granted that you’ve formally presented yourself to his sister. He’s hospitably inclined and wishes her to do the proper thing by you. ”

“ Mr. Simmons thought it shrewdly over. "Well, you ARE sick!" he exclaimed presently. "All I can say is that if you're working out a plan for cold poison, or for any other act of desperation, you had better give it right up. You can't get a dose of the commonest kind of cold poison for nothing, you know. Look here, Searle"--and the worthy man made what struck me as a very decent appeal. "If you'll consent to return home with me by the steamer of the twenty-third I'll pay your passage down. More than that, I'll pay for your beer."
My poor gentleman met it. ”

“ Here, while he was greatly admired by part of his congregation, others regarded him with less favor, and in 1851 he was compelled to resign, after preaching two sermons on a riotous assault that had been made in the town on George Thompson, the English anti-slavery apostle. In January, 1854, he was installed pastor of a church at Albany, N. Y., but in the summer of 1855 he was attacked by typhus fever, from the effects of which he never rallied. Mr. Simmons was distinguished by an acutely philosophical mind, a strong sense of right, and a thoughtful and reverent spirit. ”

“ Simmons called for two glasses of beer, and when they had drunk it he laid his dime upon the counter.
“Wot’s eatin’ you?” said the bartender. “They is two for. Cough up some more right away once.”
“See here,” said Mr. Simmons, “beer is 5 cents a glass everywheres. Don’t you take me for no country jay.”
Captain Clancy whispered that they had better pay what was asked than get into a difficulty. “It seems a rough sort of place,” he said, “and you must remember it won’t do to endanger ourselves while we have our money about us. Let me pay the 15 cents additional.” ”

“ Slipping up quietly it was, and the soundlessness of its rising was more uncanny than all the bustle and roar on the reefs outside.
We had a struggle to get on, and Simmons hung on to me to keep me from being blown into the lagoon. I began to wish I hadn’t come, and I thought of the peaceful mission house in Taku and of Molly.
“Mr. Cartwright’s there,” Simmons says suddenly in my ear. “I see his light. Hang tight. The wind’s worse out here.”
And it was. An awful clap came, driving us to our knees. I saw a huge bulk crash down between us and the pavilion. The light disappeared. ”

“ Simmons would know. He took Mr. Pruyn's evening clothes to the bank, and he was to change there. If you'll wait a minute, ma'am, I'll ask him."
But when Simmons came he could only give the information that his master was going to a "sort o' business banquet" at one of the great restaurants or hotels. ”

“ I can't do more than get under the ground!"
Mr. Simmons's superior brightness appeared to flicker a moment in this gust of despair, but the next it was burning steady again. "DON'T 'cry,' Searle," I heard him say. "Remember the waiter. I've grown Englishman enough for that. For heaven's sake don't let's have any nerves. Nerves won't do anything for you here. It's best to come to the point. ”

“ Simmons went on, “the solicitor of your usurping cousin, and he evidently knows something to be in the wind. It seems your elder brother twenty years ago put out a feeler. So you’re not to have the glory of even making them sit up.”
“I never made any one sit up,” I heard Mr. Searle plead. “I shouldn’t begin at this time of day. I should approach the subject like a gentleman.”
“Well, if you want very much to do something like a gentleman you’ve got a capital chance. Take your disappointment like a gentleman.” ”

“ At the conclusion of my investigation I found that the steamship on which Simmons was an officer was due to arrive in San Francisco a few days later. In the meantime, I ascertained that Simmons' wife had joined her husband in Oakland, and that they had fitted up a comfortable little cottage in the suburbs of that town, so I quietly awaited the arrival of the ship Mr. Simmons was employed on. ”

“ Our reason is that our old people, and there are many of them, are dying. Look at those old men and women; they have only a little while to live and they want to get their pay for their lands. The white people have taken it and you, Mr. Simmons, promised us we should be paid, you and Governor Stevens. Suspense is killing us.
“We are afraid to plant potatoes on the river bottom, lest some bad white man shall come and make us leave. You know what we are Mr. Simmons. You was the first American we ever knew and our children will remember you as long as they remember anything. ”

“ Simmons, an old resident and a noted gossip, if the captain was a widower, and then I learned of the mystery. “For it’s my opinion,” she added, after telling me the story, “that she was a Chiny woman, or mebbe a princess from Persy, though nobody’ll ever know. The captain he would never say a word; quiet’s a mouse on the subject. You oughter see him, Mr. Fitch. He’s real nice, and a great hand for company; all kinds, it don’t matter to him,” she finished in a tone which meant to include even the summer people. ”

“ Being a professional, with a keen desire to be regarded as an expert, it was to be supposed that Mr. Simmons had made a study of the tactics of fugitive negroes.
As a matter of fact, Mr. Simmons was a very shrewd man; he was also, in spite of his calling, a very kind-hearted man. In his soul he despised Mr. Gossett, whose negroes were constantly in the woods, and loved and admired Addison Abercrombie, whose negroes never ran away, and who, if every slave on his plantation were a fugitive, would never call on Mr. Simmons to catch them.
Aaron was far afield when, as the sun rose, Mr. ”

“ Male—Mr. Simmons; female—your charming self; neuter”—pointing to a stuffy judge way down the room; “and potentially male or female. This sex can be recognized by the human hair. It is long in the men and short in the women. Let us call it the professorial sex.” Women’s rights, divorce laws, etc., were then unknown in France, so this was quite an advanced idea.
The last time I saw Pouchet was in New York. He 145was about sixty-three years old. We were lunching at the Players and I asked:
“What brings you to America?” ”

“ Life was profitable to no one but Bayley, so I decided to move on. Let me say that on my return trip I stopped again at Bayley’s. I was greeted joyously. But I had learned a new game up in the country. I taught Mr. Bayley seven-up, and before I left that place I had won back all the money he had taken away from me when I worked for him, and fifty dollars “velvet”—incidentally paying my trip back to San Francisco.
Having no funds, I walked to my next stop, which was the United States Salmon Hatchery on the McCloud River. ”

“ The man that offered Will Simmons a bribe to betray his trust would answer for it with his life. A more faithful servant, or better fellow never drew breath. No it's dead he is, Mr. Headland, and—I can hardly speak of it yet! ”

“ Simulating great anger (he was funniest when he pretended gruffness) his mustache bristled, his eyes glared, his chest stuck out, and he marched up to me, his cue banging on the floor to emphasize each word:
“Young man, you do not even know what profanity is. Profanity, sir, is the unnecessary use of profane words and, applied to you, no such use is unnecessary. Go on with your —— —— game.”
Mr. Clemens was very individual in his tastes. He was fond of bread and had missed it in Europe. He 314used to say that the British bread was putty and the French bread all crust. ”

“ I always shut doors.”
“Please sit down.”
“No, thank you, Mr. Baxter. It might look odd if anyone should come in.”
[p. 242] “Of course. You think of everything.”
“I always do.”
Baxter stood for a moment, frowning.
“Miss Simmons,” he said, “when I thought it expedient to install a private detective in this house, I insisted on Wragge’s sending you. We had worked together before . . .”
“Sixteenth of December, 1918, to January twelve, 1919, when you were secretary to Mr. Horace Jevons, the American millionaire,” said Miss Simmons as promptly as if he had touched a spring. ”

“ Booth had crowded into fifty-nine years of life the experiences of an old man.
The Players is changed to-day. Of course, all old things must give way to new; but there is a certain fine sentiment that remains. Perhaps the young man does not appreciate the ideas upon which the club was founded and the traditions which have kept it together, but something of the old spirit is bound to be communicated to him on Pipe Nights or Founders’ Night, or on those occasions when old Joe Holland is brought up in his big armchair. Then all gather around, a fire blazes in the great fireplace, Mr. ”

“ But you may believe me, Miss Simmonds, when I inform you that he has been a dissipated, unprincipled man from his youth. His seemingly correct habits had merely been put on, for the purpose of gaining him an entrance into respectable society. When he began to treat me with indifference and neglect, for a long time I bore it in silence; but I was at length forced to acquaint my parents of the matter. My father soon took measures to ascertain what manner of life he had led while pursuing his studies in New York; and the information he gained was very discreditable to Mr. Almont. ”