The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1874-04-16

among ye and ye took i'm in My
thanks agin, gentlemen, an good night" !"
he added hastily, as he turned and
closed the door.
The face Of every man wore a pleased
expression. The satisfaction of doing
a good turn for the honest. hearted,
kindly old man was ample compensa.
tion tor lost time not counting in the
look of gratitude he gave them as ho
retired from view. Uncle Tucker To-
Gated a claim, had his declaration filed,
and manfully went to work. His first
assay was encouraging being reported
as equal TO ten dollars q ton, which
Uncle Tucker said was the best he had
done in dogs age, and he could afford
to pat himself on the back for it.
1t was right cheerful sight to see
the old man grubbing away in tho warm
sunlight--his bald head glistoning with
the highest polish, and the clods of
moist earth flying in showers behind
him. He looked so happy that those
about him would sometimes rest on
their picks to gaze on him, and when
he looked up they would fall to work
again. The women and children loved
Uncle Tucker, and Sunday afternoons
the old man would take party of little
ones, and they would go away upon the
hills and gather huge punches of deli
cious grapes, which had been planted
by the Franciscan monks century ago.
Uncle Tucker had been nearly year
at Poor Mans Gulch when another
strangerarriv d. Not thatit was unusual
for strangers to arriye-and 60, too, for
that matter-but this was a stranger of
importance. 1t was this way. Uncle
Tucker was working in his claim one
day when his eyes caught youthful
figure coming toward him. The figure
seemed to be that of boy of about
fourteen years of age. He had fresh,
clear complexion, fine, dark eye,
and black hair, which fell in curls
upon his shoulders. In his hand he
corried small black bag, and he had
the appearance of having Travelled from
Il distance. He walked straight up to
the old man, who regarded him in per-
plexity. He whispered to the miner,
who dropped his pick, stared at him a
moment in speechless surprise, and then
clasped him in his arms. "Come all
the way from Down Yeast tew see his
old uncle! Come yere, boys, come
yere p The boys "came," and Uncle
Tucker addressed them thus
"Yere's me, boys Hiram Tucker d!
An yere's my nevvy, Joseph Tucker,
come all the way from Down Yeast tew
SEQ his old uncle y And once more the
delighted old man embraced his new
found nephew.
"Not another stroke tew-day, Joe,"
said he, shoulderng his tools and taking
the boy by the hand. sc me tew Ho-
tel Independence an tell us all about
it r' And they moved off followed by
such exclamations as "Fine boy"
"Good luck, ole hoss y Saryes ye
right y etc.
Arriving at Hotel Independence, it
was found full of children who were
told by Uncle Tucker to run home and
tell nanny that he had got new
nephew. The tired boy was laid upon
the rude bed, and then he told his story.
What he said we know not, for it was
not intended for the general ear; we
only know that it was attended with
some tears and great many consola-
tory remarks from Uncle Tucker.
Young Joe speedily became favorite
in Poor Mans Gulch. His quiet, unas-
suming ways and cheerful disposition
won him many friends He had way,
too, of Frightening up the rough cabin,
putting punches of wild flo ycrs here
and there, and making various useful
ornaments. Games with cards were grad
ually abolished in Hotel Independence,
and instead Joe read to the guests from
books which his uncle sent to " Frisco"
for. Then sometimes they would joke
Joe about his mustache, which was yet
to come, at which Joe would blush and
laugh, though at his own expense.
Two years passed away, and then a
young lady residing in the Gulch took
it into her head to fall in love with Joe.
A change came over Uncle Tucker from
the time of the discovery OF this pas
sion. He did not lose any of his good
traits-he was the same good-hearted
old man, but he was more silent. Some
said things didn't pan out as they
should; but that could not be the rea-
son, rs he was getting along very well.
Something weighed heavily on his mind,
ut all even 8; and Joe seemed to be in
the same frame of mind as his uncle.
This was a source of distress to their
friends, as they would confide in no
one, and so could not be advised.
Among the lower classes at the gulch
wa Mexican half-breed by the name
of Pedro, but called "Lobos" on ac-
count OF his evil disposition. 1t had
often been proposed to drive him and
his companions from the camp, but
through the wishes of Uncle Tucker
they were permitted to remain. Better
I had his kind Interference been unheeded,
Tor the objects of his good offices did
very little but sit in the sun and pay
with their curious-looking, greasy cards.
One evening Uncle Tucker was return
ing from his work when he met Joe at
the door, pale as death and all in a
trenble. my boy my boy What
is the natter" cried the astonished old
man.
Nothing, ,ncle nothing of conse-
quence," returned Joe.
"But ther is, my son yer pale and
tremblin'. Tell ole uncle.
PEDRO went in and frightened him"
squeaked youngster, standing by.
"Was he insultin tew my boy y de-
manded Uncle Tucker, throwing his
tools to the ground.
Joe did not answer, and the now an
cry man strobe rapidly towards the
back shed. From there he procured
heavy blacb.snake whip, and started
down the gulch. He presently came
: upon Pedro, lounging along, but who
saw him in time to lay his hand upon
rsvolver, which was instantly wrenched
IRON him by the stalwart old miner;
The blows from the black-snake rained