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Woodrow, Nancy Mann Waddel, 1870-1935

"The Black Pearl"

"Now doin' good, for I know you don't know
what that means, Jose, is seein' the right path and makin' other folks
walk in it whether they're a mind to or not. Well I cert'ny gave the
sinners of Zenith a run for their money."
She smoked a moment or two in silence, sunk in agreeable remembrance.
She had been true to her word and, having decided to reform as much of
the community as in her estimation needed that trial as by fire, she had
plunged into her self-appointed task with lusty enthusiasm. As soon as
her conversion and the outlet she had chosen for her superabundant
energy were noised abroad, there was an immediate and noticeable change
in the entire deportment of the camp. Those long grown careless drew
forth their old morals and manners, brushed the moths from them,
burnished the rust and wore them with undeniable self-consciousness, but
without ostentation.
Upon these lukewarm and conforming souls Mrs. Nitschkan cast a darkling
eye. It was the recalcitrant, the defiant, the professing sinner upon
whom she concentrated her energies.
"So you see, Gallito," rousing herself from pleasant contemplation of
past triumphs, "it wasn't only a chance to hunt and prospect that
brought me. I heard from Bob Flick that Jose was still here and I see a
duty before me."
"She could not keep away from me," Jose rolled his eyes sentimentally.
"You see beneath that rough old jacket of her husband's which she wears
there beats a heart."
"I got some'p'n else that can beat and that's a fist.


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