Dominican College of San Rafael - Firebrand Yearbook (San Rafael, CA)

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to mount the carriage. Solemnly, he looked to either side. When they were settled, he turned the horse in the direc- tion ofthe Hall. By now the square was crowded with other carriages and people milling toward the Hall. The old man wound round the building, slipping in front Atnihe entrance. De- scending from the coach, the gentleman placed a coi11 on the driver's soft-gloved hand. The piece shone and glinted in the bright lamps of the square. Swinging around the square, the hansom gleaming as the moon rose from the surrounding hills, the driver drove on in search of a few of the many people who would be attending the Concert. He answered a hail by a well- dressed young man, wearing a rose in his lapel. He was ordered to the square. Tonight there would be proiits! The old man was think- ing that perhaps he could buy a new hat. His old one was all right, but he could see signs of fraying at the place on its brim where he tipped his hat. Perhaps this year he could even buy a new coach and hire another driver. Perhaps he would earn a lot of money for another horse as well, for tonight was Concert night. He and his horse were getting old and his thoughts turned to an easy re- tirement. But tonight anything was possible. As he turned into the square, the young man ordered him to stop at the dark green house at the corner and wait for him. The young man left and returned with a bright young girl, Who blushed as the gentleman led her to the cab. After helping her ascend the carriage, he told the driver the name of a street on the far side of town. The I60

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ONCE A YEAR It was early evening just before the night air became too cold. Into one of the narrower streets of the city, a horse and hansom cab trotted close to the cool darkness of the taller buildings. The old horse was freshly combed and brushed, her cream mane done up with red ribbons in true-love's-knots. She trotted gently and fiuidly, flicking her tail in time with her painted hoofs. The carriage was thoroughly waxed so that the mahogany gleamed in the dark, catching the gas-lamp highlights. Inside, the scar- let horse-hair seats were worn smooth with regular brush- ing. The curtains were full enough to provide privacy to the passengers. The spokes of the wheels spun with 'deli- cate balance under the weight of the old man sitting on the top of the cab. Its old driver wore a suit of blue satin and brocade, with a fine beaver hat set squarely on his white head. He wore soft blue gloves and kept his high boots polished. Under his nose he had carved a handlebar moustache, the ends of which he periodically twirled be- tween his fingertips. He often pictured himself worthy of becoming the queen's royal coachman. He led the cab through the cool darkness of the side streets onto the city's main plaza to find business for the evening. Since tonight the Concert was to be performed in the Hall that faced the square, the old man hoped to earn many fares. He circled the square, chose one of the out-going avenues, and began his circuit of the town. Soon he was hailed by a man and his wife, who were obviously on their way to the Concert. He waited for them IS9

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old man perceived that not everyone was going to the Concert, but then, a fare was a fare. Half an hour later, the old man reached the street and asked for further instructions. After a long pause, the gentleman answered with a command just to ride around town, but please, away from the crowds. Quietly the old man clucked to his old horse with the red ribbon in her mane. Wheii the evening was over and even the Concert-goers had gone home, the driver drove back to the dark green house. The young man tossed him a coin. It lay heavily in his palm, the glint was dull with age. The old man put it into his pocket, pulled his coat closer about himself, and slowly headed for home. E. RHONDA JENNINGS '71 l6l