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"You'd be willin' to pay four times the amount we both paid him," interpolated the laughing Mrs. Dimmidge. "But I didn't bring you together," burst out the dazed young man, "and I'd like to know, in the name of Heaven, what brought you together now?" "Don't you see, lad," said the imperturbable Mr.
"Whereas my husband, Micah J. Dimmidge, having given out that I have left his bed and board, the same being a bunk in a log cabin and pork and molasses three times a day, and having advertised that he'd pay no debts of MY contractin', which, as thar ain't any, might be easier collected than debts of his own contractin', this is to certify that unless he returns from Elktown Hill to his only home in Sonora in one week from date, payin' the cost of this advertisement, I'll know the reason why.
The wrinkles disappeared, a dozen dimples broke out where they had been, and the determined, matter-of-fact Mrs. Dimmidge burst into a fit of rosy merriment. Again and again she laughed, shaking the building, startling the sedate, melancholy woods beyond, until the editor himself laughed in sheer vacant sympathy. "Lordy!" she said at last, gasping, and wiping the laughter from her wet eyes.
"You just say you found it on your desk with the money; but don't you give me away." "I can promise you that the secret of your personal visit is safe with me," said the young man, with a bow, as Mrs. Dimmidge rose. "Let me see you to your horse," he added. "It's quite dark in the woods." "I can see well enough alone, and it's just as well you shouldn't know HOW I kem or HOW I went away.
"It's that blessed DEAR old dunderhead of a Dimmidge I'm thinking of. That gets me. I see it all now. Only, sakes alive! I never thought THAT of him. Oh, it's just too much!" and she again relapsed behind her handkerchief. "Then I suppose you don't want to reply to it," said the editor. Her laughter instantly ceased. "Don't I?" she said, wiping her face into its previous complacent determination.
It was an old enough form of advertisement, and the remark showed incontestably that Mr. Dimmidge was not a native; but the editor smiled patronizingly and went on: "'And I further give notice that if she does not return within the period of four weeks from this date, I shall take such proceedings for relief as the law affords." "Coom, lad, I didn't say THAT."
He was standing in the saloon of the Sacramento boat when he felt a sudden heavy pressure on his shoulder, and looking round sharply, beheld not only the black-bearded face of Mr. Dimmidge, lit up by a smile, but beside it the beaming, buxom face of Mrs. Dimmidge, overflowing with good-humor.
"How big will it be?" said Mr. Dimmidge. The editor took up a copy of the "Clarion" and indicated about an inch of space. Mr. Dimmidge's face fell. "I want it bigger, in large letters, like a play-card," he said. "That's no good for a warning." "You can have half a column or a whole column if you like," said the editor airily. "I'll take a whole one," said Mr. Dimmidge simply. The editor laughed.
Before evening, however, he learned to his astonishment that the excitement was caused by the column advertisement. Nobody knew Mr. Dimmidge, nor his domestic infelicities, and the editor and foreman, being equally in the dark, took refuge in a mysterious and impressive evasion of all inquiry. Never since the last San Francisco Vigilance Committee had the office been so besieged.
Eliza Jane Dimmidge." "Thar," she added, drawing a long breath, "put that in a column of the 'Clarion, same size as the last, and let it work, and that's all I want of you." "A column?" repeated the editor. "Do you know the cost is very expensive, and I COULD put it in a single paragraph?" "I reckon I kin pay the same as Mr. Dimmidge did for HIS," said the lady complacently.
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