Lyon County times. [volume] (Silver City, Nev.) 1874-1907, 1875-04-29
THE sUpER1NrENpENr ExpLopEs

lures but direct villainy," and we
say there is nothing level in some
people but direct mischief. There
are some persons who are never
content to drift along on the ocean
of domestic life peacefully, singing
Sc Not a wave of trouble rolls acros this
peaceful breast"
No, they must raise a breeze, and
not content when the wind is blow
ing fair they must yet "whistle for
more wind" 1t was about eighty
five years ago, and in private
boarding-house two or three hun
bred thousand miles from Silver
City, that we had taken up our quar-
ters as " boarder and lodger." The
amiabe lady who presided over the
of neatness, and, in disposition, had
all the attributes of an angel. AS
caterer to dyspeptic appetites, that
woman was good Samaritan, with
Il knowledge of cookery that placed
dyspepsia and indigestion at def
ance, and soon rendered the leanest
of her patrons as sleek and plethoric
as the picture of Elaine. In the
morning, with table already loade
down with the luXuries of the little
market, would come II declare,
now, Mr.. Geldrocke, you're looking
real delicate. Can't | fix dainty
bit of toast, d poached egg, or sGme-
thing else, to tempt your appetizer"
or, "Really, now, gentlemen, we
haven't much this morning, but If
there is anything else you would
like please let me know" Her ma
tronly ingenuity knew no bounds
when placed in the scale with hun
CRY appetites. She would dtUdys
anticipate the most sanguine wishes
of the little coterie who daily Jared
at her sumptuous board. Our fell
low boarders included a staid men,
Der of the church, Mr.. Rainey, salts
fled with anything, and looking
upon the elegant meal daily set be-
fore him as an especial blessing
from Providence and deslrab BILE
change from youthful experience.
A youthful accountant named AR
ringdaughter, whose politeness was
daily taxed in exquisite praise Of the
luscious viands; Mr.. Geldrocke, a
prominent merchant who had al
ways lived sumptuously, and now
fully appreciated the efforts OF the
landlady to furnish the best the
market afforded; a retired preacher
named Gherkin, whose gravity of
countenance tabooed at once any
attempt to make light of the occa-
sion or the meal; and The hero of
our story-a Mr.. Sandenwater, SUI
perintendent of a coal mine, and
boss of conscience that knew no
scruples VIXEN u practical joke was
to be played, or endeavoring to
raise domestic breeze i'll our (With-
out him) quiet household. Morn
ing after morning he would sit down
to the bOunjiiul table, smack his
lips over the cream favored coffee,
and remark, loud enough to be
heard in the kitchen, Why can't
they make good coffee ow-a-days ?
Ham, hum! [ declare this coffee is
fearful" or, by goIly, boys, this is
getting pretty tough!-store eggs,
Qhey We're always fresh from the
neSt), muddy coffee! burnt biscuit,
tough steak, Wilted ceierY!" and so
on through the bill of fare. Then
he would wink at the boarders and
look toward the kitchen TO see how
Mrs. Fairweather took his remarks.
When demonstrated with he would
say he was comfy sinking a pros
pecting shaft into her posltion,-
he would strike grit after awhile"
And 50 it went on day after day.
Still the patient lady said nothing.
She looked sad and troubled at
times, and we would often see her
after breakfast, sitting discOnsolately
on the Kitchen door sill, nervously
tapping the step with her foot and
twisting her apron string, but she
would have "a smile for everybody
at the next meal. She was growing
poor, there was a haggard look about
her face that bespoke smothered
trouble. The inhuman Sandenwa-
ter was surely wearing away the
velvet edges Of her nature. Still all
was politeness, the table groaned
with delicious provender, and Mrs.
Fairweather's guests were happy.
But the memorable Sandenwater still
persisted in his persecution, until
upon one fatal morning, ''the shaft
to her disposition reached bed rock.
We had all taken our places at the
table, when, with a wink at the
boarders and a glance at the kitchen,
"Landy" commenced, ''Well, / de-
clare! what's hat p pokInga fine
trout over with his fork. Trout
1 said voice which we recognized as
Mrs Fairweather's st r-r-out!'
said the prosecutor, ''why it looks
like pine bark. Why can't you"
His discourse was cut short. A
door slammed in the kitchen, a eur
rent of cold air swept through the
dining room, the dishes iinged, the
air turned blue, ana his victim
stood over him with two foot roll
ling pin in one hand and a dipper of
hot water in the other. The mine
had eXplOded-sSandVn had struck