Second Book of Tales

In Short

This miscellany brings together a unique blend of moral fables, sentimental vignettes, and sharp, humorous sketches originally written for a nineteenth-century audience. The stories range from poignant, mystical encounters in heaven to the rough-and-tumble realities of life in the American West, punctuated by satirical pieces that poke fun at the cultural aspirations of a rapidly growing Chicago. Because the writing oscillates between deep-seated romanticism and biting irony, it remains an evocative portrait of a bygone era’s literary sensibilities and its preoccupation with both childhood innocence and adult ambition.

The Story

The collection opens with themes of profound loss and the promise of celestial reunion. In one haunting tale, a mother grieving for her lost child is guided by an angel through the gates of heaven, only to discover that the angel is her own daughter, transformed into a beautiful maiden. This sets a tone of spiritual longing that persists throughout the more serious entries. Other stories follow the trajectory of human frailty, such as the soldier who returns from war only to find that his true battle is the slow, quiet approach of death, his only remaining comfort the love of his daughter, Nellie.

The narrative arc shifts unexpectedly from these lachrymose meditations to the grit of the frontier. We are transported to "Red Hoss Mountain," where the relative peace of a mining town is shattered by a daring stagecoach robbery. Here, the story follows Jim Woppit, a local marshal who prides himself on law and order. The mystery of the robbery slowly unravels, revealing a tragic deception involving a young man masquerading as a woman to assist his criminal brother. The arc culminates in a scene of sudden violence and revelation, where the true identity of the "mysterious" woman is unmasked as he lies dying, forcing the hardened townspeople to confront the humanity behind their prejudices.

Interspersed with these dramas are allegorical fables. One such story features a youth named Wilhelm who seeks to solve the riddles of a malevolent witch. Unlike those who came before him, who fell victim to the witch’s traps and were turned into swans, Wilhelm answers the riddle of "what is sweeter than a mother's kiss" with the simple, honest truth of his own experience, thereby breaking the enchantment.

Finally, the book concludes with a series of sketches that lampoon the culture of the day. These pieces transition from the mystical to the mundane, detailing inventions like the "folding library-bedstead" in Chicago and the earnest, if absurd, debates of commercial clubs regarding the culinary superiority of baked beans. The journey ends not on a note of high drama, but with a humorous, self-aware critique of the city’s frantic pace, comparing the "symphonic poetry" of circus performers to the classical literary traditions that the city’s inhabitants often pretended to hold in higher regard.

How It Unfolds

The celestial threshold The book begins by exploring the intersection of the earthly and the divine, centering on a grieving mother’s journey to find her lost child in paradise. These opening beats establish a recurring motif of redemption through love and the persistence of memory beyond the grave.

The soldier’s final retreat The narrative moves to the life of a dying soldier, focusing on the contrast between his past military glory and the quiet, internal triumph of his final days. This section highlights the fragility of life and the way personal bonds eventually eclipse the public masks of ambition.

The mystery of Red Hoss Mountain The tone shifts to a rugged western setting where a robbery interrupts the banalities of camp life. We follow the investigation through the lens of a local lawman, building tension as the community grapples with a crime that threatens their fragile social order.

The veil is lifted The tension reaches a breaking point as the true nature of the "mysterious" Miss Woppit is revealed. The story’s resolution emphasizes the tragic cost of loyalty and the way hidden identities shape the lives of those around them.

The trial of wits The collection introduces a classic fairy tale structure, where a hero must outsmart an enchantress. By stripping away the pretension of typical suitors, the protagonist succeeds through sincerity, providing a thematic anchor for the book's moral explorations.

The satirical turn The final beats dispense with narrative fiction to focus on the absurdities of contemporary urban life. Through mock-serious reports on furniture inventions and cultural debates, the author rounds out the collection with a skeptical look at the era’s "civilized" advancements.

The People

The book is populated by characters caught between their public duties and their private vulnerabilities. Jim Woppit stands out as a figure of authority who struggles to maintain his composure while his personal life—specifically his protective, tragic relationship with the boy Willie—slowly unravels. Willie, meanwhile, is defined by his desperate, doomed loyalty to an "evil brother," masking his true identity as a woman in the camp until the final, fatal encounter.

Griselda serves as a cautionary figure, a woman so consumed by the promises of "Ambition" that she ignores the physical decline of her own child, eventually choosing a royal performance over the life of her son. In contrast, the hero Wilhelm represents the power of simplicity; he survives the witch’s trials not through cunning, but by being true to his own mother's memory. Finally, there is the Soldier, whose heroism in war is rendered small by the immense, quiet bravery with which he faces his own passing, anchored entirely by his devotion to his daughter, Nellie. Each of these figures moves from a state of illusion or duty toward a final, often painful, moment of clarity.

In Its Own Voice

Describing the profound grief of a mother who finally realizes that the angel she is speaking to is the child she lost:

"The Mother saw that the angel was her lost beloved child whom she was seeking: not the helpless babe that she had thought to find, but a maiden of such heavenly beauty and gentleness as only the dwellers in Paradise behold and know."

Reflecting on the limitations of a man who cannot express his emotions in a society that demands a stoic exterior:

"But--no! I wuz not a woman! I wuz a man! an', bein' a man, I must let my heart break; I must hold my peace, an' I must make no sign."

Capturing the strange, often contradictory nature of Chicago’s self-importance in the late nineteenth century:

"Chicago has very little respect for the seventeenth century, because there is nothing in it."

What It's Really About

At its core, the book examines the tension between the "pretentious things of life"—fame, ambition, and societal status—and the simple, enduring truths of the human heart. It asks whether we can ever truly reconcile our public roles with our private longings. The stories argue that real wisdom is found not in cleverness or grand achievements, but in the small, often painful acts of love and loyalty. By juxtaposing the mystical with the mundane, the book suggests that the same capacity for wonder that allows us to believe in angels is necessary for navigating the disappointments of the real world.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate a blend of Victorian-era sentimentality and the dry, observational wit of early American journalism will find this collection compelling. It captures a specific moment in time—the Gilded Age—with all its peculiar contradictions, from its deep religious yearnings to its obsession with rapid commercial progress.

Those who enjoy folklore will be charmed by the fairy tales, though contemporary readers should be prepared for the dense, often flowery prose typical of the period. The book’s difficulties lie primarily in its reliance on dialect in the frontier stories, which can be challenging to decipher, and its occasional shifts in tone that might feel jarring to a modern sensibility. However, the emotional core of the stories—the ache of separation, the struggle to be seen for who one truly is, and the humor found in the absurdity of daily life—remains remarkably accessible. To read these tales is to step into a parlor where a gifted, slightly mischievous storyteller is holding court, moving seamlessly from a fable about a witch to a joke about Chicago furniture. It is a quiet, contemplative read that rewards patience, leaving the reader with a lingering sense of both the sweetness and the inevitable sadness of human connection.