The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1874-01-30

these people taught me that there are
solvents for even crystalliZed wicked
ness-that there is no cloud so dark as to
| be without single streak of silver, no
( nature so rugged as to be impenetrable,
or beyond the reach of humanizing in
fiuences.
had been domesticated in my new
home about a month, when q circum-
stance took place which seemed to
change entirely the whole routine OF
Hell-Roaring. There was an arrival
one morning, and the Bar throbbed
with a new sensation; a quiet, unassum-
ing lady-a Mrs. Hampton-and her
little daughter, who sought rest and
health in the mountains. Mrs. Hamp-
ton was widowed, but no one inquired
into her history. She was welcomed as
a new and strange element among so
much wild, reckless life, that brought
back memories of mother, or sister, or
sweetheart far away, and the Bar was
pleased. The boys christened the little
daughter "Daisy,n and she was well
named. From this day a marked
change took place. Everyone desired to
be well thought OF by the newcomers;
dress became an object of solieitude;
drunken yells rending the quiet night
were less frequent; spirit of evil seemed
TO be quelled, and the Bar was on its
good behavior.
Little Daisy was everywhere as a min
lstering angel. If there was sick-bed
IN camp, Daisy was beside it with the
little luXuries that the land of woman
only knows how to prepare. If a poor
fellow was about to ''pan out'i his few
last sands OF life, Daisy was there, to
wet the parched lips, to I'LL the poor,
neglected heart with hope, or to write
the last message to loved ones over and
beyond the plains. Quiet and unobtrus-
i've Daisy moved about in her ministra-
tions. As she passed the saloon on her
errands sofmercy-her brown hair neatly
folded over the pale forehead, her little
basket of goodies" on her arm, and a
word and smile for every one-oaths
half uttered would be choked back, aud
/ rough and brutal jests shrunk unspoken,
as If ashamed in her presence. Even
/ Oregon Sis-tO whom a blush was a
stranger-wOuld hang her head silently
when Daisy was near, aud her eyes
would swell-perhaps, poor thing! with
looking back to the old days among the
apple-blOssoms, when she, too, was pure
and innocent-at least, ] thought so.
Somehow, the Bar was not so dry as
| formerly; and Joe Miles, its ruling spirit,
neglected his business. and said he was
/ sick of whisky-selling. He laid aside a
six-shooter, that, reports said, had served
him only too well on more than one
occasion, with the remark "that the Bar
was so quiet now, it want no use to
carry it.h Joe was very particular now
as TO his personal appearance, dressing
in the once despised "store Clothes" and
took to solitary rambling about the
neighbOrhOOd. 1t was noticed If Daisy
had occasion to pass along the dangerous
trail through the canon, Joe was there
with his strong hand to guide her. IT
she crossed the foot-log over the turbu-
lent stream, a sturdy arm was generally
there 10 support her, and more than
once Joe was found i'm earnest conversa-
tion with her, or reading the books with
which, she supplied him. Joe finally
sold out the saloon, and invested in a
mining claim, which he was industri-
ously working when / closed out my
business and left the neighborhOOd.
visited the Bar once again. Down
. the wild Sierra, by the same tortuous
and rugged trail that / had traversed
nearly two years before; winding among
the same lonely pines, rich in fragrance
and standing like sentinels in the noun
tain passes; through the same groves Of
laurel and manzanito, glistening like
waves Of emerald aud silver i'm the noon
day sun, full-blossomed and wondrous
in their beauty, / approached the Bar.
The place seemed changed. a few little
white cottages peeped out from among
the rich oak foliage, spots of ground
were under cultivation, and the hand of
industry had been busy. The clap
boarded saloon stood in the same old
place just rs first had seen it, but its
dilapidated condition showed that the
institution was poorly patroniZed. a
crowd had gathered near it-nOt such a I
crowd as in olden time, but a sober
and quiet one. Everyone looked anx-
iOus to tell me something, but no one
spoke till | found my old friend Thorp. !
Taking my hand kindly, he led me
aside, and for a moment was silent /
"Well, Cap" he said earnestly, "things
is rough on the Bar; they amt like they |
was when you. left. She's gone-that's |
Daisy-and things amt gone right for |
some o. the boys ever since. Yes, Cap, |
it is mighty roughr'
/ asked where Daisy had removed to. |
80, no, Cap, you don't understand. |
The old woman, she went back to Sac !
Observation-Disclosures, they said; but !
Daisy, she's gone; called for, taken up
among the stars where she belonged. |
We miss Daisy, Cap. She got round /
some o. the boys, and she made them |
promise to knock off their grog; hain't /
touched it since, and rve saved a little. |
IL she'd only stayed, this thing wouldn't |
IA happened" ''You see, Cap" he con- /
tinued, "here's how it was; One o. the |
boys got badly hurt in his drift across
the creek, and one morning Daisy started /
over to take him somethin', and it was
a-runnin' bank full, and the log was
slippery, and-well, we found Daisy |
mile below, with her brown hair all /
tangled among the willows, and her /
blue eyes kind o. pleading for help; and |
we brought her back poor thing! |
There wasn't single drink taken on the /
Bar that day, Cap; it seemed to go agin' |
the boys. And Oregon Sis-her that we |
all thought so bad-she combed out the |
tangled hair, and she knelt down and |
kissed Daisy, and went two miles a-fOot /
up the meadows and got flowers and put 1
them i'll the little blue hands, and
that's where we laid her, Cap-up there, |
where you see them with pickets."
For some time the poor fellow could 4
say no-Hore, but sat with his face buried /
in his hands.
"And Joe ?" l asked.
"Hush," he said, pointing to the sa-
loon, "Joe's in there; his sands about 1
panned down-shot, night afore last, in /
u row. JOe's a-passin' in his checks, /
surei You see Joe went to the bad. 4
He sat by the old fOOt-log, melancholy
like, and wandered up and down the
creek, and no one could do anything
with him, and he took to drink again;
and the cussed temper came back, and
he got to quarrlein' with everybody.
Night afore last, he got in row with
POrtegee John, in poker game; they