Chapter 1: The Sunset

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the rolling hills, Sarah felt a sense of peace wash over her. She sat on the porch, sipping a cup of tea and watching the colors of the sky blend and shift with the fading light.

This was her favorite time of day, when the hustle and bustle of the world seemed to fade away, and all that was left was the quiet beauty of the evening. She could hear the soft chirping of crickets and the distant call of a lonely bird.

In that moment, as the world seemed to stand still, Sarah couldn't help but feel grateful for the simple joys of life. The end of the world could wait for tomorrow. Tonight, she would savor the tranquility of the sunset and the love that surrounded her.CHAPTER I.
IN LOVE WITH A DUTCHMAN.

"I don't believe that you'd care a cent if she did marry a Dutchman! She might as well as to marry some white folks I know."

Samuel Anderson made no reply. It would be of no use to reply. Shrews are tamed only by silence. Anderson had long since learned that the little shred of influence which remained to him in his own house would disappear whenever his teeth were no longer able to shut his tongue securely in. So now, when his wife poured out this hot lava of _argumentum ad hominem_, he closed the teeth down in a dead-lock way over the tongue, and compressed the lips tightly over the teeth, and shut his finger-nails into his work-hardened palms. And then, distrusting all these precautions, fearing lest he should be unable to hold on to his temper even with this grip, the little man strode out of the house with his wife's shrill voice in his ears.

Mrs. Anderson had good reason to fear that her daughter was in love with a "Dutchman," as she phrased it in her contempt. The few Germans who had penetrated to the West at that time were looked upon with hardly more favor than the Californians feel for the almond-eyed Chinaman. They were foreigners, who would talk gibberish instead of the plain English which everybody could understand, and they were not yet civilized enough to like the yellow saleratus-biscuit and the "salt-rising" bread of which their neighbors were so fond. Reason enough to hate them!

Only half an hour before this outburst of Mrs. Anderson's, she had set a trap for her daughter Julia, and had fairly caught her.

"Jule! Jule! O Jul-y-e-ee!" she had called.

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