The Three H’s
PART I.
In a tavern, which was on the waterfront and visited mostly by sailors on shore leave, lay a semblance of a man. He was tattered and in rags. Crouching at his feet was a dog as forlorn as he was and in a starved condition.
Standing around the pair was a circle of men—the regular habitués of the place.
“Where’d you find him, Pete?” inquired a sour-visaged standee.
“On the wharf. I heard the dog, and as my boy wants a cur, I followed the sound. But love ye! I couldn’t touch the dog, for he was that crazy at seeing me. Seemed like he would never stop running around me—but always out of reach—first to me and then to the bundle.
“Finally I got Steve there, and together we set to work to pick him up, and do you know, that cur jest settled down as quiet and followed at our heels. Seemed as if that was what he wanted.”
Here the men looked sheepishly at each other, as if each was ashamed at the emotion which stirred within him and was afraid lest it be observed.
Finally the first speaker took courage and said:
“Well, come on, let’s see what’s wrong. Get some brandy—and, oh! hell! give the dog something to drink and eat, too.”
In a moment there was action, where before there was inertia. One bringing a basin of warm water and a towel, another brandy, while the rest undertook to look after the dog, who refused to move away from the man’s side, however, and refused even the food and drink offered until he saw that aid was being given to his companion. Then, with a growl of satisfaction, which contained as well a despairing moan—as if the relief of nourishment was almost too great to bear—he commenced to devour ravenously what was placed before him, and gave thanks, in all directions, with a waving and vigorous tail message.
Just as he made his final thump of gratitude, the figure of his companion stirred and moaned, and instantly the dog was over the heads of the men, bending over his master and wildly lapping his face and hands, from which the dirt and blood had been removed.
It was a face of refinement, delicate in its outline, and with an expression which held the crowd silent.
Whether the brandy, which had been forced down his throat, or the caressing of the dog aroused him, it is difficult to say—for it was to the dog he turned his eyes, not to the men standing about him, and as his hand touched the animal it gave a wild yelp of gladness.
At this, a glimmer of a smile passed over the face—a smile tender as a mother’s and filled with the love and adoration of a child.
“Dakta, dear old Dakta,” he murmured feebly.
At the sound of his voice the dog laid down and moaned from very joy.
The man caressed the animal with the gentleness of a woman until it subsided and rested in peace against his body.
Then his eyes wandered over the group, which had stood silent and awe-struck at the emotion of the dog. With a smile which radiated over them all, he said:
“So you are Dakta’s good friends. I welcome you, comrades.”
A shuffling of feet answered him, and glances shot from right to left, but before any one had summoned the courage to reply, he continued:
“It seems strange to you, I perceive, for me to welcome you as Dakta’s friends. Men live all their lives with the most precious of jewels at their door and are unaware of it. Often it is wrapped in poor covering and often, too, in gorgeous raiment. I was one of those men.”
Here he stopped and stroked the dog, who now lay quiet and content, glancing up, now and then, into his friend’s face.
After a moment of silence, the man raised himself and looked intently into each face.
A furtive smile answered his query, on some faces, while others looked away, and yet, without their volition, their eyes came back and rested on his face.
“Come nearer, comrades. Sit at ease while I tell you of this jewel, which you all have within your reach and which Dakta, too, possesses.”
The men seated themselves quietly—one might almost say, reverently—so different was their attitude from their usual manner.
When the men were settled, his glance traveled over them all.
“Do you know that you have here untold riches?”
“To hell, we have!” ejaculated Steve.
“Exactly,” responded the stranger. “That is just it—Hell!—and that is paved with untold wealth—good intentions.”
“Huh!” snorted one of the listeners, “much good that wealth does a feller; you can’t buy a drink with that.”
“You are mistaken, my friend. It does you the greatest good in the world, and I will prove it to you; and, furthermore, it will purchase for you all the drinks you desire. Will you hear?”
“Fire away.”
II.
“When I was a lad, I was puny, sickly, and in consequence was barred from the joy of companions and play.
“My parents were too occupied with their great responsibilities—my father amassing wealth and my mother keeping her place as the leader of society—to give any special attention to the offspring who only upset the routine of the household by illness at inopportune times, and so the care was relegated to hirelings—who were paid for their time and gave accordingly only the efforts of their hands, with no thought that they possessed a heart.
“I was kept out of doors constantly, and my only companion was the mother of Dakta. We grew up together, and it was the exercise given me from very joy and ecstacy—together with the love and devotion, which I felt for the first time, and realized did exist—which restored me gradually to health.
“Next I became acquainted with selfishness and cruelty, for my playmate—having added to the joy of the world, five beautiful downy bits of life—was taken away from me, for she brought a good price with four of her children. Money was of more importance than love. Dakta, here, was left behind, however, for the stableman, for he had looked after her mother.
“It was from the stableman that I received my first lesson as to the wealth which was to be obtained.
“He was an ugly, brutal looking man, dirty and unkempt most of the time, but to me he was a very god, for each day he came to the wicket of the fence, with Dakta in his arms, and with a smile which was like a beam of sunshine, he would say, “Hey! little master, here she is,” and with that he would put Dakta through the wicket.
“Each day ever since she has been with me, sharing joy and sorrow and teaching me with infinite patience and love the great lessons of life—Faithfulness, Gratitude, Cleanliness, Godliness and Work.
“For ten years she has been steadfast and her love unchanged, although I have led her through the mire many times, and hunger and cold have been her portions.”
Here he put his hand upon the dog and turned its face upward, and, looking into its eyes, said:
“But never lack of love, old girl! Never that!”
The dog kept its eyes upon him as he spoke, and the men were silent as it gave a little whimpering answer and licked the man’s hand.
Turning once more to his circle of listeners, the man continued his story:
“I have called you Dakta’s comrades for she selected you, and her judgment is unerring in regard to those who have wealth.”
Here he smiled, and in a whimsical tone said:
“She is an aristocrat, and traces her family many generations, and therefore shuns those who do not belong to her class. For we have mingled with each and every class—having been the invited guests of multimillionaires, pampered social leaders, and sat at the table of all of the rulers of the world. We have dwelt in hovels, slept in the desert, and wandered forsaken and alone along the highways.
“Tonight our pilgrimage ends, for we have won the fight and I am once more in possession of my soul.”
The music of his voice had stilled all the warring elements within each man, and they scarcely breathed for fear of losing that which they felt had entered and warmed them. There was no need for the gin and whisky, which had kept the blood heated, for there was a glow from the eyes of both man and dog which made them warmer than they had ever been.
Putting his hand on the dog’s head, he said:
“Attention. Dakta! It is time to choose.”
Immediately the dog was on its haunches, ears erect, nose quivering and eyes going from man to man.
“I have called you Dakta’s comrades, but you are mine as well—for ‘Lo! the stranger was at your gates and you took him in and bathed and fed him.’
“We need helpers, and Dakta shall choose. After she has selected each one for his particular office, we will discuss the work to be done. I will tell you in advance, however, that you will receive greater payment for your services than you have ever had before.”
The men were as graven images.
Then came the command:
“Leader! Dakta!”
With a dignity which was inspiring, Dakta walked around each man, looking, first, intently into each face and then sniffing. Having made the rounds, she walked to the most besotted looking, and putting her paws on his knee, looked up into his face and whined, meanwhile waving in triumph the flag of her tail.
The man at whose knee she stood put out a trembling and hesitating hand, whereupon Dakta gave a little yelp of pleasure, and kissed it.
At this the entire attitude of the man changed, and he sat erect, where before his body had slouched, and his head went up until the carriage of the body was that of a ruler, and he arose from his chair and, with eyes alight, followed Dakta to the right hand of the man and seated himself on the floor beside him.
Again came the command:
“Treasurer! Dakta!”
Once more the dog made its rounds, stopping finally in front of a man who had kept his eyes upon the ground. He stirred uneasily at the touch of Dakta’s paws upon his knee, and made a movement as if he would push her away. At that she gave a little cry and jumped into the lap of the man and commenced to lick his face.
The man made no move for a moment, and then suddenly clasped her in both arms and hid his face in her neck.
“Well chosen, Dakta!” said her master.
“Come, comrade, and sit at my left.”
The man rose, still holding Dakta close to his heart, but his head raised high and his eyes straight ahead—and took his place at the left, upon the floor.
Again came the command:
“The Mender! Dakta!”
Wriggling out of the arms of the man who held her, she once more made her rounds, this time stopping before Steve, and whining as if in recognition.
Steve looked down into the animal’s face and said:
“Hell! What are you?”
At this Dakta leaped about him in ecstacy and tugged at his coat, until Steve put out his brawny hand and caressed her head.
Once again came the voice of her master:
“Well selected. Let him sit in front of me, Dakta.”
And dragging Steve by the coat, she brought him in front of her master, who put out his hand and said:
“Welcome, Brother.”
As the man’s hand touched his, a smile went over the face of Steve and glorified it, and he silently took his place as indicated.
Once more rang out a command:
“The Light Bearer! Bring the Light Bearer, Dakta.”
This time Dakta made a flying leap into the lap of Pete, and dog and man gazed into each other’s eyes. Then, as Dakta sprang to the floor, Pete followed her where she led him, to her master, who held out both hands and said:
“My Brother!” And Pete passed around and placed his back next to that of the man.
A final command rang out:
“Select the brothers of each!” And Dakta made her rounds, bringing two to sit next to the Treasurer, two next to the Leader, two next to the Mender, and two next to the Light Bearer, coming herself to curl up at her master’s feet.
His eyes traveled over the men seated about him, now all with their heads erect and smiles upon their faces, and joy radiating from them all.
In a voice sweeter than any music, he said:
“Hell becomes Heaven when there is Harmony!
“Is it not so, Brothers?”