North Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1867-current, 1870-05-04
WHOLE No. 7O7.


ished some acquaintance with this ex
drunkard. Enough that he was soon &C
cepted as one Of the party that the
children, with that quick intelligence
which Providence gives the helpless, recog
uized friend, and played with his blonde
beard and long, silken moustache, and
took other iberties-as the helpless are
apt to do. And when he built fire
against tree, and had shown them other
mysteries of woodcraft, their admiration
knew no bounds. At the close of two such
foolish, idle, happy hours he found hi i'm
self lying at the feet of the school. mis-
tress, gazing dreamily in her face, as
she sat upon the sloping hillside, weaving
wreaths of laurel and syringa, in very
much the same attitude he had lain when
first they met. Nor was the the similitude
greatly forced. The weakness of an easy
sonsuous nature, that had found dreamy
exaltation in liquor, it is to be feared was
now finding an equal intoxication in love.
think that Sandy was dimly conscious
Of this himself. I know that he longed
to be doing something-slaying a grizzly,
scalping savage or sacrificing himself
in some way for the sake of his sallow-
faced, gray-eyed school mistress. As
should like to present him in heroic at
titude, | stay my hand with great difficulty
at this moment, being only withheld from
introducing such an episode by strong
conviction that it does not usually occur
at such times.
So they sat there undisturbed-the
wood-peckers chattering overhead, and
the voices of the children coming pleas
antly from the hollow below. What they
said matters little. What they thought
which might have been interesting
did not transpire. The woodpeckers
only learned how Miss Mary was an Or
phan how she left her uncle's house,
to come to California for the sake of
health and independence how Sandy was
an orphan, too; how he had lived a wild
life, and how he was trying to reform /;
and other details, which, from wood
pecker's viewpoint, undoubtedly must
have seemed stupid, and waste of time.
But even in such tri1es was the afternoon
spent and when the children were again
gathered, and Sandy, with delicacy which
the school mistress well understood, took
leave of them quietly at the outskirts of
the settlement, it had seemed the shortest
day of her weary life.
As the long, dry summer withered to
its roots the school term of Red Gulch-
to use local uphism-"dried up, also.
In another day Miss Mary would be free !;
and for season, at least, Red Gulch
would know her no more. She was seated
alone in the school house, her cheek rest
ing on her hand, her eyes half closed, in one
of those day-dreams in which Miss Mary
II fear, to the danger of school discipline
was lately in the habit Of indulging
Her lap was full of MOSES, ferns and 9TH
er woodland memories. She was SO pre-.
occupied with these and her own thoughts
that gentle tapping at the door passed
unheard or translated itself into the re-
membrance of far'of woodpeckers. When
at last it asserted itself more distinctly
she started up with flushed cheek and
opened the door. On the threshold stood
woman, the self-assertion and audacity
of whose dress were in singular contrast
to her timid, irresolute bearing.
Miss Mary recognized at a glance the
dubious mother of her anonymous pupil.
Perhaps she was disappointed perhaps
she was only fastidious-but as she coldly
invited her to enter, she half unconscious
ly settled her white cuffs and collar, and
gathered closer her own chaste skirts. 1t
was, perhaps, for this reason that the en-
barrassed stranger, after moments hes,
itation, lett her gorgeous parasol open and
sticking in the dust beside the door, and
then sat down at the farther end of long
bench. Her voice was husky as she be,
gan:
II heerd tell that you were goin' down
to the Bay Tomorrow, and l couldn't let
you 60 until l came to thank you fer your
kindness to my Tommy
Tommy, Miss Mary said, was a good
boy, and deserved more than the poor at
tention she could give him. Haaa
"Thank you, Miss Thank ye =, cried
the stranger, Frightening even through
the color which Red Gulch knew faeetious-
ly as her "war paint" and striving, in
her embarrassment, to drag the long bench
nearer the school mistress. 81 thank YOU.
Miss, for that and if l am his mother.
there amt sweeter, dearer, better boy
lives than him. And if amt much as
says it thar amt sweetsr, dearer angel
teacher lives than he's got.''
Miss Mary, sitting primly behind her
desk, with a ruler over her shoulder, open.
ed her gray eyes widely at this. but sand
nothing.
sit amt for you to be complim.nted by
the like of me" she went. on hurriedly, II
know. 1t amt for me to be comm here.
in broad day, to do it either; but come
to ask favor-not for me, Miss-not for
me-but for the darling boy"
Encouraged by look in the young
schoolmistress' eye, and putting her lilac>
sloved hands together, the fingers down.
ward, between her knees, she went on, in
low voice:
You see, Miss. there's no one the boy
has any claim on but me, and ain t the