Chapter C: Twilight on Angel Island

The stars were beginning to shoot tiny white, five-pointed flames through the purple sky. The fireflies were beginning to cut long arcs of gold in the sooty dusk. The waves were coming up the low-tide beach with a long roar and retreating with a faint hiss. Afterwards floated on the air the music of the shingle, hundreds of pebbles pattering with liquid footsteps down the sand. Peals of laughter, the continuous bass roar of the men, an occasional uncertain soprano lilting of the women, came from the group. The girls were reciting their lessons.

“Three little girls from school are we, Pert as schoolgirls well can be, Filled to the brim with girlish glee, Three little maids from school!”

intoned Lulu, Chiquita, and Clara together.

“Mary, Mary, quite contrary, How does your garden grow? Silver bells and cockle shells, And pretty maids all in a row.”

said Peachy.

“The hounds of spring are on winter’s traces,” began Julia. With no effort of the memory, with a faultless enunciation, a natural feeling for rhythm and apparently with comprehension, she, recited the Atalanta chorus.

“That’s enough for lessons,” Honey demanded.

“Wait a moment!”

He rushed into the bushes and busied himself among the fire-flies. The other four men, divining his purpose, joined him. They came back with handkerchiefs tied full of tiny, wriggling, fluttering green creatures.

In a few moments, the five women sat crowned with carcanets of living fire.

“Now read us a story,” Lulu begged.

Pete drew a little book from his pocket. Discolored and swollen, the print was big and still black.

“‘Once upon a time,’” he began, “‘there was a little girl who lived with her father and her stepmother - ’”

“What’s ‘stepmother’?” Lulu asked.

Pete explained.

“The stepmother had two daughters, and all three of these women were cruel and proud - - ’”

“What’s ‘cruel and proud’?” Chiquita asked.

Pete explained.

“‘And so between the three the little girl had a very hard time. She worked like a slave all day long, and was never allowed to go out of the kitchen. The stepmother and the proud sisters, used to go to balls every night, leaving the little girl alone. Because she was always so dusty and grimy from working over the fire, they called her Cinderella. Now, it happened that the country was ruled by a very handsome young prince -’”

“What’s ‘handsome young prince’?” Clara asked.

Pete explained.

“‘And all the ladies of the kingdom were in love with him.’”

“What’s ‘in love’?” Peachy asked.

Pete closed the book.

“Ah, that’s a question,” he said after an instant of meditation, “that will admit of some answer. Say, you fellers, you’d better come into this.”