The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1872-03-26
Mark Heber's Luck.

own future pressing npon his thoughts
and demanding prompt solution.
His home had been, from his earlies'
remembrance, upon a stony, worn-ou
farm of fifty acres, situated upon the Sen
eca Lake, in Western New York. His
father had become so heavily involved in
debt, that two weeks before his death the
farm had been sold by foreclosure Of
mortgage.
Aud now what was Mark to do a?
He was a lad of nineteen, slight and
boyish in frame, but with the strength o
a man in his sinowy arms. He had the
usual advantages Of education afforded to
farmers SONS.
He returned home from his fathers
grave to the small, unpainted story and
half house, and after him came his faith
er s only brother, a well-to-do farmer, who
resided in the neighborhood.
This uncle, Mr.. William Heber, was 0
man Of sixty years, pompous and self-im.
portant. His soul was OF the smallest
pattern, and he had never been known tc
do a generous deed, while he had done
many mean ones.
We'll, Mark, said his uncle, I've sent
my folks on home, so that | can have o
coed talk with you. Morgan tells me he
wants the farm. He has held off two
weeks while George was dying, but he
wants to move in next week. What arc
you going to do
Il don't know uncle. am trying to
think. What can l do?'
i have thought the matter over said
Mr.. Heber, land have thought upon plan
| am willing to take you, Mark, and treat
you as my own son, You shall have a
home at my house, and seat at my table.
What do you say?'
you forget, uncle, that have some
one to provide for besides myself said
Mark. Suppose | were TO accept this offer
of yours, what will you do for GayY
The girl is no relation of yours, Mark.
The boy siged.
Poor little Gay he said; hers is 4
hard lot.
DO you remember how the child came
By her name? 1t is thirteen years this
spring since a lady stopped at our door
and asked leave to remain over night
She staid on day after day, growing weak.
er and weaker 1t did not take long tC
discover that she was insane She called
the child Gay, and sometimes Gabrielle
which is Gays true name. But she did
not tell her surname, nor anything con.
cerning herself. Late that summer she
died. No one ever came to inquire after
her or the child
Her mother was crazy tramp, and
nothing more No wonder George was
behindhand, when his wife adopted the
child of a tramp and brought her up a
lady said his uncle.
Mark colored.
Il cannot hear a word against my
mother, sir, he said. Il shall protect Gay
while | live, and she shall not be separ.
atcd from me-.
Then | wash my hands Of you,' ex
claimed Mr.. Ileber angrily. You can 60
your own way, and get your own living.
Very well, sir said Mark quietly;
that is settled then.
In one week Mark had sold pair Of
colts which he had raised himself for five
hundred dollars, the household furniture
for nearly as much more, and was on his
way, with little Gay, to the far West, to
seek their fortune.
The young travellers arrived at Leaveu.
worth after long and fatiguing journey
Here Mark, while looking for a wagon
and yoke of oxen with which to eros:
the prairies, fell in with an old farmer
named Whitman, who had been living il
Western Kansas, but did not like it. and
was now on his way to Nebraska. Marx
concluded to join him, and Mr.. Whitman
assisted him in purchasing suitable
outfit, and that same night Mark and
Gay were snugly ensconced in their huge
travelling wagon, outside of the city, OIL
the edge of the prairie, where Mr. Whit
man. with his wife and seven children
had encamped Six other families were
with thcm-the seven wagons being park.
ed in the form of Il crcle-that is, the
pole of one wagon resting upon the real
Of another-and the oxen, mules, horses
cows, dogs and pigs being gathered into
the circle thus protected.
Outside the circle of wagons q great
fire was burning, and as Marks wagon
drove up, the conductor of the train, Mr..
Landlord, came forward and welcomed
the newcomers.
1t seemed to Gay and to Mark that
they had entered new and wondrous
world.
Both lay long awake that night in their
wagon, close up under the canvas roof
and they talked in whispers of their great
future and wondered what it had in store
for them.
The next morning at daybreak the
camp was astir. BY sunrise the wagon
train was on its way toward the north
west.
At night they halted beside small
stream and parked the wagons, and had
supper, and talked and sang songs and
told stories, like one great joyous family.
At daybreak, again they were on the
way.
In the course of ten days, having trav-
elled rapidly for OK teams, they reached
the Little Blue river, a branch of the
Big Blue. The women built fires and be-
gan the preparation of supper. The men
proceeded to park the wagons.
The last train l took over this route
was attacked by Indians just here,' said
Conductor Landlord. They were unus-
ually bold, and we had a tough fight
Good Heavens What is that?'
He beheld, by the last rays of sunset,
a mounted band Of Indians, their weapons
glittering in the yellow light, their plumes
in the wind, as they came on
like whirlwind.
Indians !" yelled the conductor, in a
voice that made every woman's face turn