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of this performance。
〃If you took as much care in trying to form your letters according
to copy； you'd do better。 Your signature is fair enough as it is。〃
〃But it don't look right； Mr。 Ford；〃 said Uncle Ben； eying it
distrustfully； 〃somehow it ain't all there。〃
〃Why； certainly it is。 Look； D A B N E Ynot very plain； it's
true； but there are all the letters。〃
〃That's just it； Mr。 Ford； them AIN'T all the letters that ORTER be
there。 I've allowed to write it D A B N E Y to save time and ink；
but it orter read DAUBIGNY；〃 said Uncle Ben； with painful
distinctness。
〃But that spells d'Aubigny！〃
〃It are。〃
〃Is that your name？〃
〃I reckon。〃
The master looked at Uncle Ben doubtfully。 Was this only another
form of the Dobell illusion？ 〃Was your father a Frenchman？〃 he
asked finally。
Uncle Ben paused as if to recall the trifling circumstances of his
father's nationality。 〃No。〃
〃Your grandfather？〃
〃I reckon not。 At least ye couldn't prove it by me。〃
〃Was your father or grandfather a voyageur or trapper； or
Canadian？〃
〃They were from Pike County； Mizzoori。〃
The master regarded Uncle Ben still dubiously。 〃But you call
yourself Dabney。 What makes you think your real name is d'Aubigny？〃
〃That's the way it uster be writ in letters to me in the States。
Hold on。 I'll show ye。〃 He deliberately began to feel in his
pockets； finally extracting his old purse from which he produced a
crumpled envelope； and carefully smoothing it out； compared it with
his signature。
〃Thar； you see。 It's the samed'Aubigny。〃
The master hesitated。 After all； it was not impossible。 He
recalled other instances of the singular transformation of names in
the Californian emigration。 Yet he could not help saying； 〃Then
you concluded d'Aubigny was a better name than Dabney？〃
〃Do YOU think it's better？〃
〃Women might。 I dare say your wife would prefer to be called Mrs。
d'Aubigny rather than Dabney。〃
The chance shot told。 Uncle Ben suddenly flushed to his ears。
〃I didn't think o' that；〃 he said hurriedly。 〃I had another idee。
I reckoned that on the matter o' holdin' property and passin' in
money it would be better to hev your name put on the square； and to
sorter go down to bed rock for it； eh？ If I wanted to take a hand
in them lots or Ditch shares； for instanceit would be only law to
hev it made out in the name o' d'Aubigny。〃
Mr。 Ford listened with certain impatient contempt。 It was bad
enough for Uncle Ben to have exposed his weakness in inventing
fictions about his early education； but to invest himself now with
a contingency of capital for the sake of another childish vanity；
was pitiable as it was preposterous。 There was no doubt that he
had lied about his school experiences； it was barely probable that
his name was really d'Aubigny； and it was quite consistent with all
thiseven setting apart the fact that he was perfectly well known
to be only a poor minerthat he should lie again。 Like most
logical reasoners Mr。 Ford forgot that humanity might be illogical
and inconsistent without being insincere。 He turned away without
speaking as if indicating a wish to hear no more。
〃Some o' these days；〃 said Uncle Ben； with dull persistency； 〃I'll
tell ye suthen'。〃
〃I'd advise you just now to drop it and stick to your lessons；〃
said the master sharply。
〃That's so；〃 said Uncle Ben hurriedly； hiding himself as it were in
an all…encompassing blush。 〃In course lessons first； boys； that's
the motto。〃 He again took up his pen and assumed his old laborious
attitude。 But after a few moments it became evident that either
the master's curt dismissal of his subject or his own preoccupation
with it； had somewhat unsettled him。 He cleaned his pen
obtrusively； going to the window for a better light； and whistling
from time to time with a demonstrative carelessness and a
depressing gayety。 He once broke into a murmuring； meditative
chant evidently referring to the previous conversation； in its
〃That's soYer we goLessons the first； boys； Yo； heave O。〃 The
rollicking marine character of this refrain； despite its utter
incongruousness； apparently struck him favorably； for he repeated
it softly； occasionally glancing behind him at the master who was
coldly absorbed at his desk。 Presently he arose； carefully put his
books away； symmetrically piling them in a pyramid beside Mr。
Ford's motionless elbow； and then lifting his feet with high but
gentle steps went to the peg where his coat and hat were hanging。
As he was about to put them on he appeared suddenly struck with a
sense of indecorousness in dressing himself in the school； and
taking them on his arm to the porch resumed them outside。 Then
saying； 〃I clean disremembered I'd got to see a man。 So long； till
to…morrow；〃 he disappeared whistling softly。
The old woodland hush fell back upon the school。 It seemed very
quiet and empty。 A faint sense of remorse stole over the master。
Yet he remembered that Uncle Ben had accepted without reproach and
as a good joke much more direct accusations from Rupert Filgee； and
that he himself had acted from a conscientious sense of duty
towards the man。 But a conscientious sense of duty to inflict pain
upon a fellow…mortal for his own good does not always bring perfect
serenity to the inflicterpossibly because； in the defective
machinery of human compensation； pain is the only quality that is
apt to appear in the illustration。 Mr。 Ford felt uncomfortable；
and being so； was naturally vexed at the innocent cause。 Why
should Uncle Ben be offended because he had simply declined to
follow his weak fabrications any further？ This was his return for
having tolerated it at first！ It would be a lesson to him
henceforth。 Nevertheless he got up and went to the door。 The
figure of Uncle Ben was already indistinct among the leaves； but
from the motion of his shoulders he seemed to be still stepping
high and softly as if not yet clear of insecure and engulfing
ground。
The silence still continuing； the master began mechanically to look
over the desks for forgotten or mislaid articles； and to rearrange
the pupils' books and copies。 A few heartsease gathered by the
devoted Octavia Dean； neatly tied with a black thread and regularly
left in the inkstand cavity of Rupert's desk； were still lying on
the floor where they had been always hurled with equal regularity
by that disdainful Adonis。 Picking up a slate from under a bench；
his attention was attracted by a forgotten cartoon on the reverse
side。 Mr。 Ford at once recognized it as the work of that youthful
but eminent caricaturist； Johnny Filgee。 Broad in treatment；
comprehensive in subject； liberal in detail and slate…pencilit
represented Uncle Ben lying on the floor with a book in his hand；
tyrannized over by Rupert Filgee and regarded in a striking profile
of two features by Cressy McKinstry。 The daring realism of
introducing the names of each character on their legsperhaps
ideally enlarged for that purposeleft no doubt of their identity。
Equally daring but no less effective was the rendering of a limited
but dramatic conversation between the parties by the aid of
emotional balloons attached to their mouths like a visible gulp
bearing the respective legends： 〃I luv you；〃 〃O my；〃 and 〃You git！〃
The master was for a moment startled at this unlooked…for but
graphic testimony to the fact that Uncle Ben's visits to the school
were not only known but commented upon。 The small eyes of those
youthful observers had been keener than his own。 He had again been
stupidly deceived； in spite of his efforts。 Love； albeit deficient
in features and wearing an improperly short bell…shaped frock； had
boldly re…entered the peaceful school； and disturbing complications
on abnormal legs were following at its heels。
CHAPTER V。
While this simple pastoral life was centred around the school…house
in the clearing； broken only by an occasional warning pistol…shot
in the direction of the Harrison…McKinstry boundaries； the more
business part of Indian Spring was overtaken by one of those spasms
of enterprise peculiar to all Californian mining settlements。 The
opening of the Eureka Ditch and the extension of stagecoach
communication from Big Bluff were events of no small importance；
and were celebrated on the same day。 The double occasion
overtaxing even the fluent rhetoric of the editor of the 〃Star〃
left him struggling in the metaphorical difficulties of a Pactolian
Spring； which he had rashly turned into the Ditch； and obliged him
to transfer the onerous duty of writing the editorial on the Big
Bluff Extension to the hands of the Honorable Abner Dean；
Assemblyman from Angel's。 The loss of the Honorable Mr。 Dean's
right eye in an early pioneer fracas did not prevent him from
looking into the dim vista of the