I was to call for him at the hotel and take him across to the hall. When I called, a middle-sized man came to meet me with a rather good looking, pleasant smile and introspective, musing eyes. Harte was in evening dress that suited his slight figure, and as he seemed disinclined to talk, I took him across to the hall at once and hastened round to the front to note his entrance. He walked quite simply to the desk, arranged his notes methodically and began in a plain, conversational tone, «The Argonauts,» and he repeated it, «The Argonauts of '49.» I noticed that there was no American nasal twang in his accent, but with the best of will, I can give no account of the lecture, just as I can give no portrait of the man. I recall only one phrase, but think it probably the best. Referring to the old-timers crossing the great plains, he said, «I am going to tell you of a new crusade, a crusade without a cross, an exodus without a prophet!» I met him ten years later in London when I had more self-confidence and much deeper understanding both of talent and genius, but I could never get anything of value out of Bret Harte, in spite of the fact that I had then and still keep a good deal of admiration for his undoubted talent. In London later I did my best to draw him out, to get him to say what he thought of life, death and the undiscovered country, but he either murmured commonplaces or withdrew into his shell of complete but apparently thoughtful silence. The monotonous work and passionate interludes of my life were suddenly arrested by a totally unexpected happening. One day Barker came into my little office and stood there hiccoughing from time to time. «Did I know any remedy for hiccoughs?» I only knew a drink of cold water usually stopped it. «I've drunk every sort of thing,» he said,
«but I reckon I'll give it rest and go home and if it continues send for the doctor!» I could only acquiesce. Next day I heard he was worse and in bed. A week later Sommerfeld told me I ought to call on poor Barker, for he was seriously ill. That same afternoon I called and was horrified at the change: the constant hiccoughing had shaken all the unwieldy mass of flesh from his bones; the skin of his face was flaccid, the bony outline showing under the thin folds. I pretended to think he was better and attempted to congratulate him, but he did not even try to deceive himself. «If they can't stop it, it'll stop me,» he said, «but no one ever heard of a man dying of hiccoughs, and I'm not forty yet.» The news came a few days later that he was dead-that great fat man! His death changed my whole life, though I didn't dream at the time it could have any effect upon me. One day I was in court arguing a case before Judge Bassett. Though I liked the man, he exasperated me that day by taking what I thought was a wrong view. I put my point in every light I could, but he wouldn't come round and finally gave the case against me. «I shall take this case to the Supreme Court at my own expense,» I explained bitterly, «and have your decision reversed.» «If you want to waste your time and money,» he remarked pleasantly, «I can't hinder you.» I went out of the court and suddenly found Sommerfeld beside me. «You fought that case very well,» he said,
«and you'll win it in the Supreme Court, but you shouldn't have told Bassett so, in his own-» «Domain,» I suggested, and he nodded.
When we got to our floor and I turned towards my office, he asked, «Won't you come in and smoke a cigar? I'd like a talk.»
Sommerfeld's cigars were uniformly excellent, and I followed him very willingly into his big, quiet office at the back that looked over some empty lots. I was not a bit curious, for a talk with Sommerfeld usually meant a rather silent smoke. This time, however, he had something to say and said it very abruptly. «Barker's gone,» he remarked in the air, and then: «Why shouldn't you come in here and take his place?» «As your partner?» I exclaimed. «Sure,» he replied, «I'll make out the briefs in the cases as I did for Barker and you'll argue them in court. For instance,» he added in his slow way, «there is a decision of the Supreme Court of the State of Ohio that decides your case today almost in your words, and if you had cited it you'd have convinced Bassett,» and he turned and read out the report. «The state of Ohio,» he went on, «is one of the four states, as you know (I didn't know it), that have adopted the New York code-New York, Ohio, Kansas and California»-he proceeded, «the four states in a line across the continent; no one of these high courts will contradict the other. So you can be sure of your verdict. Well, what do you say?» he concluded. «I shall be delighted,» I replied at once. «Indeed, I am proud to work with you: I could have wished no better fortune.» He held out his hand silently and the thing was settled. Sommerfeld smoked a while in silence and then remarked casually, «I used to give Barker a hundred dollars a week for his household expenses: will that suit you?» «Perfectly, perfectly,»
I cried. «I only hope I shall earn it and justify your good opinion.»
«You are a better advocate than Barker even now,» he said, «but you have one drawback.» He hesitated. «Please go on,» I cried,
«don't be afraid! I can stand any criticism and profit by it-I hope.»
«Your accent is a little English, isn't it?» he said. «And that prejudices both judge and jury against you, especially the jury: if you had Barker's accent, you'd be the best pleader in the state.»
«I'll get the accent,» I exclaimed. «You're dead right: I had already felt the need of it, but I was obstinate. Now I'll get it, you may bet on that, get it within a week.» And I did. There was a lawyer in the town named Hoysradt who had had a fierce quarrel with my brother Willie. He had the most pronounced western American accent I had ever heard, and I set myself the task every morning and evening of imitating Hoysradt's accent and manner of speech. I made it a rule, too, to use the slow western enunciation in ordinary speech, and in a week no one would have taken me for anyone but an American.
Sommerfeld was delighted and told me he had fuller confidence in me than ever and from that time on our accord was perfect, for the better I knew him, the more highly I esteemed him. He was indeed able, hardworking, truthful and honest-a compact of all the virtues, but so modest and inarticulate that he was often his own worst enemy.
Chapter XIV. Law Work and Sophy
Now began for me a most delightful time.
Sommerfeld relieved me of nearly all the office work: I had only to get up the speeches, for he prepared the cases for me. My income was so large that I only slept in my office-room for convenience sake, or rather for my lechery's sake. I kept a buggy and horse at a livery stable and used to drive Lily or Rose out nearly every day. As Rose lived on the other side of the river, it was easy to keep the two separate, and indeed neither of them ever dreamed of the other's existence. I had a very soft spot in my heart for Rose: her beauty of face and form always excited and pleased me and her mind, too, grew quickly through our talks and the books I gave her. I'll never forget her joy when I first bought a small bookcase and sent it to her home one morning, full of books I thought she would like and ought to read.
In the evening she came straight to my office, told me it was the very thing she had most wanted, and she let me study her beauties one by one; but when I turned her round and kissed her bottom, she wanted me to stop. «You can't possibly like or admire that,» was her verdict.
«Indeed I do,» I cried, but I confessed to myself that she was right, her bottom was adorably dimpled but it was a little too fat, and the line underneath it was not perfect. One of her breasts, too, was prettier than the other, though both were small and stuck out boldly: my critical sense would find no fault with her triangle or her sex; the lips of it were perfect, very small and rose-red and her clitoris was like a tiny, tiny button. I often wished it were half an inch long like Mrs. Mayhew's. Only once in our intercourse did I try to bring her to ecstasy and only half succeeded; consequently, I used simply to have her just to enjoy myself, and only now and then went on to a second orgasm so as really to warm her to the love-play; Rose was anything but sensual, though invariably sweet and an excellent companion. How she could be so affectionate though sexually cold was always a puzzle to me. Lily, as I have said, was totally different: a merry little grig and born child of Venus: now and then she gave me a really poignant sensation. She was always deriding Mrs.