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Updated: May 16, 2025
The character of the men and women whom the Church trains for citizenship and usefulness in the world is seen in two beautiful lives whose labours were finished, in God's Providence, by the waters of the Golden Gate. Mrs. Mary Abbott Emery Twing, of New York, widow of the late Rev. Dr.
Twing John I. Thompson Golden Gate of Paradise. As we turn away from Chinatown, with its Oriental customs and its peculiar life and its religion, we naturally give ourselves up to reflection on the mission and character of the Christian Church.
Nevertheless, when Twing, a week or two later, suggested that he might sing the same song as a solo at a certain performance to be given by the school children in aid of a local charity, she drily intimated that it was hardly of a character to suit the entertainment. "But," she added, more gently, "you recite so well; why not give a recitation?"
For the first time I felt angry at Twing; and, drawing my bridle tighter, I fell back to the rear. What would I not have given for the "Rifle Rangers" at that moment? I was startled from a very sullen reverie by a shot, the whistling of a rifle bullet, and the loud "Halt" of the major in front.
It was on one of these occasions that Twing, becoming an accidental auditor of this chaste, sad piping, was not only permitted to remain to hear the end of a love song of strictly guarded passion in the subjunctive mood, but at the close was invited to try his hand a quick, if not a cultivated one at the instrument. He did so. Like her, he added his voice. Like hers, it was a love song.
"Pah! that's nothing. I came out expecting to bury the whole kit of you. Here's Clayley, too. Clayley, your friend Twing's with us; you'll find him in the rear." "Ha! Clayley, old boy!" cried Twing, coming up; "no bones broken? all right? Take a pull; do you good don't drink it all, though leave a thimbleful for Haller there. How do you like that?"
On each side of the table was a row of colonels, captains, subalterns, and doctors seated without regard to rank or age, according to the order in which they had "dropped in". There were also some naval officers, and a sprinkling of strange, half-sailor-looking men, the skippers of transport brigs, steamboats, etcetera; for Twing for a thorough republican in his entertainments; besides, the day levelled all distinctions.
We, on the other hand, taking him for some officer of our own, and wondering who it could be galloping about at such an hour, stood silent and waiting. "By heavens, that's a Mexican!" muttered Twing, as the ranchero dress became apparent under a brighter beam of the moon. Before anyone could reply, the strange horseman wheeled sharply to the left, and drawing a pistol, fired it into our midst.
"I've told you why, Dick," returned Twing gloomily. "Oh, the schoolma'am!" "Yes, she's a saint, an angel. More than that she's a lady, Dick, to the tip of her fingers, who knows nothing of the world outside a parson's study. She took me on trust without a word when the trustees hung back and stared.
Martin felt that nothing she could say at that moment could lift the rebellion into seriousness again. But Twing was evidently not satisfied. "Beg Mrs. Martin's pardon, and say you were foolin' with the boys," he said in a low voice. The discomfited rebel hesitated. "Say it, or I'll SHOW WHAT YOU'VE GOT IN YOUR POCKETS!" said Twing in a terribly significant aside.
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