Eaton weekly Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1866-1875, 1872-09-05

| know that the feelings that prompted
them were heartfelt and sincere. We
were all sincere, and all deeply moved
and earnest, for we were in the presence
of death and without hope. 1 threw
away my pipe, and in doing it felt that
at least l was free of hated vice and
one that had ridden me like a syrant
all my days. While yet talked, the
thought of the good [ might have done
in the world and the still greater good
l might 7,oao do, with these new incen-
tives and higher and better aims to
to guild me, if L could only be spared a
few years longer, overcame me and the
tears came again. We put out our arms
about each others necks and awaited
the warning drowsiness that precedes
| death by freezing.
1t came stealing over us presently,
and then we bade each other last
farewell. A delicious dreaminess
wroughtits web about my yielding senses,
while the snow flakes wove a winding
sheet about my conquered body. Obliv-
ion came. The battle of life was done.
do not know how long L was in a
state of forgetfulness, but it seemed an
age, A vauge consciousness grew upon
me by degrees, and then came a gath
through all my body. ! shuddered.
The thought fitted through my brain,
"this is d, ath-this is the hereafter"
Then came white upheavel at my
side, and a voice said, with bitterness
Will some gentleman be SO good as
to kick me behindI"
1t was BaHou-at least it was tow
zled snow image in sitting posture,
with Ballou's voice.
rose up, and there in the gray dawn,
not fifteen steps from us, were the frame
buildings of stage station, and under
shed stood our still saddled and
bridled horsesl
An arched snow-drift broke up now,
and Ollendorf emerged from it, and the
three of us sat and stared at the hors es
without speaking word. We really
had nothing to say. We were like the
profane man who could not "do the
subject justice" the whole situation
was so painfully ridiculous and humili-
ating that words were tame and we did
not know where to commence anyhow.
The Joy in our hearts at our deliver
ance was poisoned; well nigh dissipated,
indeed. We presently began to grow
pettish by degrees, and sullen; and
then, angry at everything in general,
we moodily busted the snow from our
clothing, and, in unsociable single file,
p1owed our way to the horses, unsad-
died them, and sought shelter in the
station.
have scarcely exaggerated a detail
of this curious and absurd adventure.
1t occurred almost exactly as L have
stated it. We actually went into camp
in a snow drift in a desert, at midnight
in storm, forlorn and hopeless, within
fifteen steps of comfortable inn.
For two hours we sat apart in the
station and ruminated in disgust. The
mystery was gone now, and it was plain
enough why the horses had deserted
US. Without doubt they were under
that shed quarter of a minute after
they had left us, and they must have
overheard and enjoyed all our confes-
sions and lamentations.
After breakfast we felt better, and
the zest of life soon came back. The
world looked bright again, and existence
was as dear to us as ever. Presen' ly an
uneasiness came over me-grew upon
me-assailed me without ceasing. Alas,
my regeneration was not complete-I
wanted to smoke / resisted with all
my strength, but the flesh was weak.
wandered away along and wrestled with |
myself an hour. 1 recalled my promises
of reform and preached to myself per- |
suasively, upbraidingly, exhaustively. |
But it was all in vain. 1 shortly found
myself sneaking among the snow-drifts
hunting for my pipe. discovered it |
after a considerable search, and crept |
away to hide myself and enjoy it. ] re-
manned behind the barn a good while, |
asking myself how l would feel if my |
brave, stronger, truer comrades should |
catch me in my degradation. At last !
l a hI1D
feel meaner and baser than / did then. |
was ashamed of being in my own pitt |
full company. Still dreading discovery, |
felt that perhaps the further side of |
the barn would be somewhat safer, and |
so turned the corner. AS l turned the |
one corner, smoking, Ollendorf turned |
the other with his bottle to his lips, and |
between us sat unconscious Ballou deep |
in game of "solitaire - with the old |
greasy cards!
Absurdity could go no farther. We |
shook hands and agreed to say no more |
about reform and examples to the |
rising generation"
The station we were at was at the
verge of Twenty six Mile Desert. If we
had approached it half an hour earlier |
the night before, we must have heard |
men shooting there and firing pistols;
for they were expecting some sheep |
drovers and their hocks and knew that
they would infallibly get lost and
wander out of reach of help unless
guided by sounds. While we remained
at the station, three of the droyers ar
rived, nearly exhausted with their
but two others of their
party were never heard of afterward.
Marx Is0ain, in Rou9hing ii.
Cool, But Not Clear.