Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1871-09-08

Ann in her silks and laces, and baby Ara
mlnta had cost no end of money, but he
had said it and it must be done. So, when
ho found the present continually mortgag-
ing the future, he determined to make one
bold strike for fortune, and find her n the
golden sands of California. He sold his
little shoe shop and some other little mat
ters, and taking Mary Ann and the little
ono to her mothers, he left them with the
means Of comfort for year, and golden
hopes for the coming years.
Never you mind, Mary Ann; l will
never come home with a cent less than
thirty thousand dollars; and don't you
ever let Minta wear coarse shoes, or spoil
her pretty hands washing dishes, for mind,
she's to be a rich mans daughter" And
with such words, and heart heavy for its
great weight Of agony at parting with its
ido's, yet with a will firmly set for his
k, but purse foarfully light for the
ta-, he had undertaken, this man, like
th1usands of others, had come to seek his
,dae.
Ils soon saw that mining was not sure
road to riches, for he seemed to have no
the verge of starvation, an old comrado ask
ed him if he would mend his boots, and he
recalled the little parcel that contained a
few avis and a pair of pincers, as well as
the little half-worn shoe-knife While he
was at work another miner came to him
with broken shoes, and before he knew it
his hands were full of work. Zeke did his
work well, but he was a little remorseess
in his charges, for he had monopoly and
could do as he pleased in the matter Soon
his pile of money began to increase, and he
gave up all thought of mining. But night
and day he wrought at his bench scarcely
giving himself needful rest, and his letters
to his wife were so full of hope that she felt
quite conscience clear in appearing in new
silk dress, and fine shawl to match. Was
not Mr. Crowder a successful miner in Cal
ifornia? OF course he did not tell her that
he was still mining with his awl.
While Mrs. Crowder, no longer known
among her friends as Mary Ann, was flour
ishing in all sorts of bravery, and indulg-
ing her appetite in every little doicacy of
the season, Zeke was living on the most
meagro fare, and stinting himself at that.
His only suit of clothes had been patched
with cotton flour sacks till he looked like
walking advertisement for "supertine flour,
best for family use." What would the
dainty, lavender-gloved Mary Ann have
said could he have suddenly appeared be-
fore her?
She wrote him often, told him what dain-
ty hands and feet little Araminta had, and
how everybody looked at her when she
went to cl urch with the dear child in her
Swiss muslin, rufiled TO the waist, and
blue ribbon sash that cost dollar q yard.
Zeke looked down at the "superfne" in
scribed on his knee, and wondered ii Mary
Ann would feel any disgust if she could see
him Just as he was.
As time heightened from months to years,
he felt Il strange knawing at the heart
strings. He wanted to go back, but he had
not yet "mGde his pile So he worked
hdslar and stiniod more. 1.-Two y'oars eono
and an old noighbor. lured by the golden
accounts that Mary Ann had given of Mr..
Crowder's great success, came to the camp,
bringing the most beautiful ambrotypes of
his wife and daughter. Italmost took poor
Zeke's breath away as he looked into the
splendid eyes Of that pictured woman-she,
his wife. The little one, too, seemed
marvel of beauty, and grace and daintiness.
Zeke looked at his friend beseechngly.
"For the love of God, never tell Mary Ann
how look and how l MAKE my money"
The friend promised, and he girded himself
for further efforts.
He now began to hear more of his wife
than was pleasant. She was leader of
fashion, had learned to dance and play the
piano. and the beaux from the city all raved
about her dark eyes, her chestnut curls, her
lily fingers, her swan-like neck. His van
ity was tlattered; but then wasn't he drift
ing away from her? What was this rude
miners camp doing to polish his manners,
to straighten his STOPPING shoulders, or to
give him grace and elasticity of motion?
He had hoped TO 60 back at the end of sew
en- years, but he had only s25, ,OOO and he
had said he would never go with a dime
less than $4,000, so he held on. His gains
were slower, for his health had gradually
declined, and his wife and daughter needed
more.
dollars more and the sum would be COM
plete, and then a months wages would pay
his fare home. He worked harder and
stinted himself more, and the result was
complete breaking down, and poor Crowd
er was compelled to go to his bed and send
for the doctor. He found the man dying of
starvation, and ordered the most nutritious
dot af1Il u aI m nj IIa ip1uIoaJ
for few days in beef soup and milk in his
coffee, and under this treatment he rallied
and was again at his bench. The doctor re-
monstrated aud ordered him home at once,
thinking that thus he would escape the
consequences of further privation, but it
was all in vain. He would not 20 back to
M,ay Ann and Minta with less than the
sum named, and he worked on for few
days more till he tainted at his task. Again
the doctor ordered nourishment, but the
patient utterly refused saying it would cost
so much he should never go back. All en-
treaty was vain, and after week of suffer-
ing he passed away. His last charge to his
friends was to bury him as cheaply as poss-
ible, so that Mary Ann and Minta should
have $4,000.
At fashionable party Mrs. Crowder re-
coiyed notice of the death Of her husband,
and was consolcd to know that he had
faithfully secured to her the sum of $4,000
In tho bank of -.
Some thought her little wanting in ton-
derness, but others said, "See what love
she is in mourning;" and certainly her fair
face was only fairer for mourning weeds,
and many bachelor sighed for the widow
of the rich California miner
His grave is nameless his memory be-
coming almost legendary in his old home,
but Mrs. Crowder has been a belle and a
beauty, and is sought by the rich and proud.
Was she to blame for accepting what was
freely given and what society so much ad-