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Show B "JIM" GILLIS. H The California papers report the death or B 'Jim" Gillis and add that he, in the long ago, B was the companion and friend of Mark Twain, B Brat Harte, Joe Goodman, R. M. Daggett and all H I that bright array of young r. en who, from the H crucible of California life in the old days came H out gold. H ' That must be our "Jim" Gillis, for there never H could have been but one of his kind. When this H j writer saw him last, a quarter of a century ago, H l he was living in a cabin built In '49 up in the R hills of Tuolumne County, California. He had R j some quartz mines whioh later made him rich, H ( but at that time all his visible wealth was that H cabin, his books, a garden and some dogs and H rabbits, and the hopes in his heart. H But all that place was dedicated to Peace. BH The dogs and rabbits ylayed together like pup- H pies, with never a quarrel, and down In the gar- H t. den the writer of this saw him with both hands H separate the branches of a shrub, and there, not H l, four inches from either hand, and not ten Inches m v from his face, sat, unconcernedly, a mountain BH I quail on her nest, her bright eyes smiling up to jH I his. At the retmark: "I thought the mountain H quail untameable," he said: "Oh, they don't care Hh Ml for me" Hfi , m It was he who answered the call of the birds M I as told in the Wedge of Gold, only he did it much MR Sl better than is told in the book. He piloted the flB Mi writer out from bis home, three miles, to Tuttle- $M town to take the 6:00 a. m. stage. The walk be- B Wffl gan before there was one advance scout of the H f dawn in the East The forest made the night HBI f very dark, only up through the trees the stars, 8BH ( cold and white, could be seen. BB i But when some guidons of the advancing day Big ' H1 were planted in the East and one after another ot H 1 PiiiHHIMHHHHIHHHHHHM the songsteis ot the lorest awoke and began their morning praise service, then this "Jim Gillis, who had been striding in silence over the trail, also seemed to awake, and he answered every call of the forest in quaint, shrewd words which revealed that he not omy know eaoh songster song-ster by its voice, but knew their habits and all their delicious ways. In his cabin he was reserved re-served of speech, but when he did talk it seemed that whatever the theme his mind had not only mastered It, but had reduced its substance to just the number of words that expressed his complete com-plete thought, but with the birds, it was all a joyous conversation which gave the impression that his ear was at the receiver ot a telephone and he was but answering the morning greetings of the birds as, low and sweet, they came to his ear, though soundless to all others. People said he lived alone. Never was there a greater mistake, 'irue, no other visible personality per-sonality was near, but his soul was in full accord with the forest and all its inhabitants, and with all those who had been dear to him, but who through the years' mutations had fallen asleep. Moreover, ho kept abreast of all the great world's events, so far as dally papers and magazines could Inform him. Out of them in the calm around him, he had evolved shrewd ideas of all the noted actors on the world's political stage; he estimated esti-mated their greatness and littleness and drew exact ex-act distinctions between them. His life was as placid as the flow of a river that has little fall and no obstructions in its banks. He had known all the bright men among the early Argonauts; the memories of some of them he held lovingly in his heart, but his life had passed beyond them and he was waiting in the calm without a regret for the past and unruffled by any apprehension for the future. So we suspect the even stream of his life flowed on to the last. Certainly we hope it did, and if conscious when the great change was imi-nent, imi-nent, we suspect that but one regret touched his soul, and that was a tear that the bird on her nest would miss him and that there would be no kind master for his dumb-animal friends. |