e would be all the better for this sad visitation. And he said yes
to their excellent advice, and was very much obliged to them. At the
same time it was clear to me, who watched him like a daughter, that he
became heavy in his mind, and sighed, as these kind friends, one after
the other, enjoyed what he still could do for them, but rode away out of
his gate with too much delicacy to draw purse-strings. Not that he would
have accepted a loan from the heartiest heart of all of them, only that
he would have liked the offer, to understand their meaning. And several
of them were men--as Firm, in his young indignation, told me--who had
been altogether set up in life by the kindness of Sampson Gundry.
Perhaps the Sawyer, after all his years, had no right to be vexed by
this. But whether he was right or wrong, I am sure that it preyed upon
his mind, though he was too proud to speak of it. He knew that he was
not ruined, although these friends assumed that he must be; and some of
them were quite angry with him because they had vainly warned him. He
could not remember these warnings, yet he contradicted none of them; and
fully believing in the goodness of the world, he became convinced that
he must have been hard in the days of his prosperity.
No sooner was he able to get about again than he went to San Francisco
to raise money on his house and property for the rebuilding of the mill.
Firm rode with him to escort him back, and so did Martin, the foreman;
for although the times were not so bad as they used to be some ten years
back, in the height of the gold fever, it still was a highly undesirable
thing for a man who was known to have money about him to ride forth
alone from San Francisco, or even Sacramento town. And having mentioned
the foreman Martin, in justice to him I ought to say that although his
entire loss from the disaster amounted only to a worn-out waistcoat of
the value of about twenty cents, his vehemence in grumbling could only
be equaled by his lofty persistence. By his great activity in running
away and leaving his employer to meet the brunt, he had saved not only
himself, but his wife and children and goods and chattels. This failed,
however, to remove or even assuage his regret for the waistcoat; and he
moaned and threatened to such good purpose that a speedy subscription
was raised, which must have found him in clothes for the rest of his
life, as well as a silver tea-pot with an inscription about his braver
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