Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West
Holding out his hand he
said with his odd smile: "Thank you." Then he turned to shake Arthur's
hand, after which he continued: "I also am indebted to Mr. Merrick for
carrying me to the hospital. The doctor told me that only this prompt
action enabled them to resuscitate me at all. And now, I believe it
would be courteous for me to tell you who I am and how I came to be in
such dire peril."
He paused to look around him questioningly and the interest on every
face was clearly evident. Arthur took this opportunity to introduce Jones
to Louise and Beth and then they all sat down again. Said Uncle John to
the stranger, in his frank and friendly way:
"Tell us as much or as little as you like, my boy. We are not unduly
inquisitive, I assure you."
"Thank you, sir. I am an American, and my name is Jones. That is, I may
claim American parentage, although I was born upon a scarcely known
island in the Pacific which my father purchased from the government of
Uruguay some thirty years ago."
"Sangoa?" asked Arthur.
He seemed surprised at the question but readily answered:
"Yes; Sangoa. My father was a grandnephew of John Paul Jones and very
proud of the connection; but instead of being a sailor he was a
scientist, and he chose to pass his life in retirement from the world."
"Your father is no longer living, then?" said Mr. Merrick.
"He passed away a year ago, on his beloved island. My mother died
several years before him. I began to feel lonely at Sangoa and I was
anxious to visit America, of which my mother had so often told me. So
some months ago I reached San Francisco, since when I have been traveling
over your country--my country, may I call it?--and studying your modern
civilization. In New York I remained fully three months. It is only about
ten days since I returned to this coast."
He stopped abruptly, as if he considered he had told enough. The brief
recital had interested his auditors, but the ensuing pause was rather
embarrassing.
"I suppose you have been visiting relatives of your parents," remarked
Uncle John, to ease the situation.
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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