Tonio, Son of the Sierras | Page 8

the five little
glasses with fragrant Amontillado. "I must tell you, gentlemen, this is
one of the pleasant surprises that most admirable woman yonder is
forever putting up on me. Life would be a desert without such."
"Indeed it wasn't mine!" expostulated madam, "though I'm deeply
indebted to somebody. Who was it, Doyle?"
"Docther Bentley, ma'am. He said I was to keep it dark, ma'am--'an' in
the coolest place I could find----"
But here the peals of laughter silenced the words and rang the glad
tidings to listening, waiting ears in the kitchen that all was well. Mrs.
Stannard scurried away to explain to her Luce, and the dinner went
blithely on.

"You did right, Doyle! you did right!" shouted the general, "and we'll
drink the doctor's health. Keep it dark, indeed! Haw, haw, haw!" And
then nothing would do but he must tell the story of this precious and
particular chair. Furniture, even such as he bought at San Francisco,
and would live to a green old age along the Pacific, came speedily to
pieces in the hot, dry atmosphere of Arizona. Little enough there was of
cabinet ware, to be sure, because of the cost of transportation; but such
as there was, unless riveted in every seam and joint, fell apart at most
inopportune moments. Bureaus and washstands, tables, sofas and chairs,
were forever shedding some more or less important section, and the
only reliable table was that built by the post carpenter, the
quartermaster.
And so these pioneers of our civilization, the men and women of the
army, had had no little experience in cabinetmaking and upholstering.
While the emigrants and settlers, secure under its wing, could turn
swords into ploughshares and spears into pruning-hooks, as saith the
Scriptures, their soldier folk turned clothing boxes into couches, soap
boxes into cradles, and pork barrels into fauteuils. Chintz and calico,
like charity, covered a multitude of sins, as declared in unsightly cracks
and knotholes. The finest reclining chair in all Camp Almy belonged to
the doctor, a composite of condemned stretchers and shelter tent. The
best dining-room set was sawed out from sugar barrels, and, being
stuffed with old newspapers and gayly covered with cheese cloth and
calico, rivaled in comfort, if not in airy elegance, the twisted woodwork
of Vienna. When it was known that Mrs. and Miss Archer had
descended upon the camp, and their beloved commander had next to
nothing by way of furniture with which to deck their army home, every
officer hastened to place his household goods--such "C. and G.E." as
did not belong to the hospital--at the general's disposal. The Stannards
sent three riveted, cane-bottomed, dining-room chairs and their spare
room outfit complete. Captain Turner, whose fair-complected partner
had not yet ventured to these destructive suns, sent bedstead and bureau,
the latter without knobs, but you could pry the drawers open with the
point of a sabre. The post trader drove up from the store with a lot of
odds and ends. Even the bachelors were keen to do something. All of
which Mrs. Archer most gratefully and smilingly accepted and made

mental note of for future return in kind. But, in spite of the Stannards'
contribution, the general stood firmly to his prerogative and sat close
on his throne--"The finest dining chair in all Arizona, sir," as he often
declared. "Sawed out from a standard oak whiskey barrel at Old Port
Buford in '58, according to my own ideas and lines, and sound as a
dollar to-day, sir, and it's only been covered three times in all. Look at
it!" And here, with a flourish, he would whip off the seat.
"Combination chair and butler's pantry, sir. Used to keep my whiskey
and tobacco there when the redskins had the run of the post and thought
nothing of searching our quarters. And now Doyle's used it as the
doctor prescribed, and then gone and forgotten it! Haw, haw, haw! By
Jove, but that's capital sherry! Cool almost as if it had been iced! Harris,
my boy, you don't drink!"
There was a moment's silence. Then the young officer answered,
simply, yet almost apologetically:
"Why--I never have, sir."
CHAPTER III.
It happened at a moment when Willett, seated at the right of "the lady
of the house," with Lilian at his dexter side, had caught the eye of his
hostess, and, after the manner of the day, had raised his brimming
sherry glass and, bowing low, was drinking to her health, a feat the
general had thrice performed already. "If I'd only known of this,
gentlemen," said their host, but a moment earlier, with resultant access
of cordiality, "and could have found a drop of Angostura about the post,
we'd have had a 'pick-me-up' before dinner, but d'you know I--I seldom
have bitters about