The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1870-09-06

see 'em throw it away like fools. But
that's neither here nor there" aud he be-
gan:
"Nigh three years ago l was at Oma-
ha, jest agoin' to start for the west. |
had bin out tradin' with the Injuus, and
sich good spell, an if it was nigh seven
years scnce' I'd seen the Missouri river
so | come back to look round an see the
campin' grounds. But Lor', it wansnt a
mite asst used to be-the land was all
bcin' settled, an towns agoin' up, an it
didn't look natural like; an | said I'd
Jest 60 back to the buifaloes aud bars,
they're alters the same. So, as | said, |
was at Omeha 'twan't no place at all
then) agoin' to start for what | call tn
West. | jined company with a lot O.
fellers goin' on to Californy. We had a
good stock an plenty of grub, an we
started.
"There was some fuss at first about a
woman that wanted t. go $ cook-wanted
to cook the grub t pay fur goin'; and
some Of the chaps wouldn't take her
cause the Injuns was goin' t be on the
path, an they didn't want no women.
Scs l. 'Ef she's got pluck enough t go,
take her; she won't do no harm, an ef
tn Injuns gets us, | kin put ball thro'
her head Thank you ses voice be-
hind me- turns round, an there she
stands. When l sees her | want sorry l
said what did. | knew she wouldn't be
no trouble, and eff the Injuns come she
wouldn't yell, but ask me to kill her ef
| didn't. She wasn't Altered O nothin', |
see it all in her eyes, an she wanted to
90 bad. Folks out there, | reckon, ses
|. Yes says she, shy-lke an turnin'
red, my man is out there Guess you'd
better take her. ses | to the men her
mans out there, an she won't be no
trouble She looked at me grateful-like.
an they said she might go.
"Well, we started. Hannah---that was
the woman's name want a might
of trouble. She was a mighty good cook,
an done heap O. work an she alters
had pleasant face, an smile that made
the cakes as good agin. When we sat
around the fire at night, see she alters
looked to the west, an her face would git
bright-like when the Captain said how
fur we'd gone, an | knew she was think
in O. her man; an sometimes | thought
I'd 60 round the world to know such a
face was lookin' for me. Sometimes, aft
er supper, I'd say suthin to her, an |
got acquainted some F; but she alters
'peared keerful bout bein' too free an
easy like-though, Lor' knows, she need
MT with me.
"Thngs went on all quiet and smooth
till we came to the Laramie Plains, to
Alkali Run. When we got there we
camped close to old Tom Scott's chebang,
an he come an asked us to take long q
woman that had been left there by u
train, cause she was sick an couldn't 90
no further. She was most wei. now, an
wanted to 90 to her husband in Californy.
She wanted to go bad. The men said
NO; but Hannah said she'd go an see
her. When she come back see she'd
bin cryin' AN she told the mon they must
take the woman-she wouldn't be no
trouble, an she'd take care on her. So
after while they let her do as she'd a
mind to, an she brought her. She
took her into her own wagon, an waited
on her like she had bin child.
The women vast mite alike; Han
nah'd bin raised in the west, an she was
tall and strong, an her black eyes flashed
when she was mad, kin tell ye ; but the
other woman was little white thing, an
her eyes soft and tender just like a
young rabbits under the sage. She look
ed as if wind would blow her over an
Hannah took to her right away. Han
nah tried to cheer her up. an was allars
bright an cheerful an they'd talk about
Californy till you'd think there wasn't no
other place in the world. Hannah had
bin there, an t'other woman hadn't an
one was alters askin' questions of t'other;
though l noticed they never said nothin'
bout the folks she was going to see, only
bout the country and what was going on
there.
"Well, one night-just such night as
this-the women had got inter their wa
gon, an we all was asleep 'cept Bill
Jones an me, who was keepin' watch. -
| sat right by the woman's wagon,so that
if anything happened l could take kesr
O. them first; /; an pretty soon | see Ben
dozin' on t'other side of the fire an every
thing was still. Before long heard the
women's voices in the wagon, an | moved
off closter to the fire, cause | didn't
s'pose they wanted me to hear what they
was sayin' but they talked loud, an |
couldn't help hearing. Anyway | ses
to myself "ir's only old Bill, an he nev-
er tells no tales. 1t was t'other woman
who was talkin', an her voice was clear
an soft, like bell heard onst when |
was boy an she was excited AN spoke
SO loud an cear-like | couldn't help
hearin.'
go. Hannah, | was so happy she
said it was only little home, but it
was pretty and neat, an | was so proud
of it, an loved my husband more than
| can tell. He was steady an good in
those days, an he went to his work every
mornin, an did my part at home. The
ho1se was alters clean, an his supper
ready when he came home at night, an
eff was tired so was he. an | never
made no complaints for thought there
wasn't happier home in the world. But
after baby came | was aiin', an worn
out with havin' my rest broke, an for
got to have a smile for him when he came
home, an | was cross an fretful. Sc
pretty soon he took to goin' out evenings
when he'd had his supper, cause he
couldn't have no peace at home ; an then
he got unsteady. and didn't 90 to his
work regular. Things went on from bad
to worse-an'-then he-went away
Here she broke down cryin'; but af.
ter while Hannah says,in queer tone
Just as ef it had been pinched out OF