be harnessed to a
noble cause.
But if Oakhurst is the dominant character, Piney Woods is, I think, the
central character. She is central in this story just as little Aglaia is
central in Tennyson's "Princess," or Eppie in George Eliot's "Silas
Marner," or the baby offspring of Cherokee Sal in "The Luck of Roaring
Camp." Bret Harte had just written the last-named story when he began
the composition of "The Outcasts of Poker Flat." The same great theme,
the radiating and redeeming power of innocence and purity, was carried
over from the first story to the second. The ministry of the baby and
the ministry of the fifteen-year-old bride is the same in both. Like the
Great Stone Face in Hawthorne's story or like little Pippa in Browning's
poem, they awaken the better nature of those about them. They restore
hopes that had become but memories and memories that had almost ceased
to be hopes.]
As Mr. John Oakhurst, gambler, stepped into the main street of Poker
Flat on the morning of the twenty-third of November, 1850, he was
conscious of a change in its moral atmosphere since the preceding night.
Two or three men, conversing earnestly together, ceased as he
approached, and exchanged significant glances. There was a Sabbath lull
in the air, which, in a settlement unused to Sabbath influences, looked
ominous.
Mr. Oakhurst's calm, handsome face betrayed small concern in these
indications. Whether he was conscious of any predisposing cause, was
another question. "I reckon they're after somebody," he reflected;
"likely it's me." He returned to his pocket the handkerchief with which
he had been whipping away the red dust of Poker Flat from his neat
boots, and quietly discharged his mind of any further conjecture.
In point of fact, Poker Flat was "after somebody." It had lately
suffered the loss of several thousand dollars, two valuable horses, and
a prominent citizen. It was experiencing a spasm of virtuous reaction,
quite as lawless and ungovernable as any of the acts that had provoked
it. A secret committee had determined to rid the town of all improper
persons. This was done permanently in regard of two men who were then
hanging from the boughs of a sycamore in the gulch, and temporarily in
the banishment of certain other objectionable characters. I regret to
say that some of these were ladies. It is but due to the sex, however,
to state that their impropriety was professional, and it was only in
such easily establis
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