Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1875-01-22

| " hihVhoi anu pTuCcBueu 10 the dis
tant canyon where his claim was sit.
Mrs. Foster was beginning TO like the
mild climate of San Francisco. She had
formed some pleasant acquaintances
amongst certain people who, like them,
mad emigrated hither, and her compar.
ative freedom from labor had given back
TO her portion of her lost health. She
dreaded inexpressihly the new, wild
home amongst the mountains; the lonely
life, with only rough miners for asso.
ciates; and the hard labor that must be
her portion. Mr.. Foster was abundantly
able to hire servants to do the cooking
for his men, but don't think the idea
that he could do SO had ever entered his
brain. He was so accustomed to the
services of his legally-bound handmaiden
that, to do the man justice, l certainly do
not think the thought occurred to him
that he could employ another to relieve
her. H.- s.t-t l.et Hrli I.lt
Early In May they were established in
their new home, Mr. Fosters healthy,
handsome countenance beaming with
content rs he overlooked the labor of
his men, for his venture was proving
more successful than he had dared to
hope for. Mrs. Fosters face looked more
faded and worn than ever, for she had no
gratified ambition to inspirlt her. Great
or wealth would not effect any favorable
change in her circumstances, judging
from the past. And poor, patient, weary
eyes, looking into frying-pan and grid
IRON and sultry oven interiors, they had
no time to look away from the poverty
of her surroundings indoors to the glory
of the mountains, the glory of the for.
ests, the glory of the waters; for il was
on the bank of rushing torrent that
their shanty was situated.
The rough Loard walls of her cabin
kept the glory and the sunshine from the
tired eyes as palace walls have some.
times done when sick hearts have lam
quished within them.
But little Winnie was happy Her
child'eyes, so new to all the world found
unending delight in all the wonderful,
beautiful things about her. She was the
one ray of sunshine in Mrs. Fosters toll
some, lonely life. Mr.. Foster was proud
OF his little daughter" as he called
her and thought of her. Her exceeding
beauty and intelligence gratlied his am
Dltlon and gave him hopes of brilliant
future for her. And, to do him Justice,
he was great lover of children, and the
disappointment of not having any of his
own had been very hard for him to bear
They all loved her, and in fact it would
be very difficult to help loving little
Winnie Foster. Her face was sweet as
an apple blossom; just such healthy,
cheerful beauty, TOO none of your delicate,
wax-like, hothouse blossoming in her
round, rosy little face Her hair hung
around her brow and cheeks like wayy
masses of spun gold; and her eyes were
like the blue gentians on the dear north
ern hillsides that Mrs. Foster remem.
| bered so well
All day long that little golden head
could be seen fitting about the cabin.
The miners grew to love it, hold it in a
tender, sacred reverence as they did the
memories of their own little ones far
away. But, above all, there was one
man amongst them whose love for her
knew no bounds. This was a man with
wild, uneouth locks and face nearly COW
cred with beard of patriarchal growth :
his face was rendered more forbidding,
| too, by long scar, newly healed, that
cut across the forehead and one cheek.
his man, who had been hired by Mr..
! Foster after they had nearly reached
their destination, was a stranger to all;
but MIR. and Mrs. Foster were often puz.
zled by curious resemblance in the
dark eyes to some one they had once
seen. He was faithful to his work and
to his employers interests; but he was
not favorite with the men. He was
too reticent-surly, they called it; and
as he seemed to wish to have nothing to
do with them, they looked upon him
with consequent distrust and dislike,
| But Winnie loved him. His rough,
Scared face was beautiful to her, for it
always wore a smile for her. He was
never too tired to tell her the long stories
she demanded of him. He gloried IN the
joyful ignominy of being her horse, her
dog, her elephant, or whatever other ami
NAL her capricious fancy might dictate
She rode in triumphant security on his
shoulders, queenly mistress of those re-
fractory animals, her small, white hands
clasped about his neck. To thus bear
her up the hill to the cabin, prancing
heavily if he were a horse, or with long,
unwieldy strides if he were her camel,
was to Jake Wilder sufficient reward for
the labors of the day. s.a.
1t was one lovely morning in August
that she appeared at his side as he was
rocking his rough cradle, seeking for
golden reward.
"Dake, what 90 doonin'?"
He left off his work at once to tell her
what he was doing; told her with kiss
on the little, fresh, eager face. He was
glad to think of this afterward; glad to
think that he stopped his work for mo-
ment, wiped his hands on his coarse
miner garb, and lifted her up in his
brawny arms for one of the flying leaps
through the air that she relished so well.
He was obliged to go up the hill then to
the cabin, and she at once proposed that
he go as cher el'fant." He consented
with great readiness and delight, and,
placing her on his shoulder, he pranced
solemnly upthe hill, like good ,hunored
elephant bearing fairy princess, went
in his best "elfant" tread, slower and
more majestic than his gait when he was
horse.
AT the cabin door he set her down with
another kiss, and she looked up in his
face with her trusting child-eyes, and
patted his rough checks tenderly and
said:
- love you,. Dake; you're dood;
you're my dood old Dake."
In few minutes she was at her moth
er's side.
"What 90 doonin', mamma!"
This was great habit of the little |
maiden, asking every one what they
were doing. Everything was so new to |
her; she had so many things to learn;
people were doing such strange things |
all the time. Everything was so strange |
to her; she must be constantly asking in |
order to find out things.
What am 1 doing? l am working my |
life away; l am killing myself"
And poor, despairing, hard-working |
Mrs. Foster dropped her Tolling-pin in |
the bread-tray, and sank down in a |
chair.
Mrs. Foster was not pale this morning; |
her cheeks were flushed with deep-red |
hue, and her eyes shone with strange,
unnatural brilliancy, She had terrible
headache, was nervous, so she thought;
all the morning her life, so tiresome, SO
bare, had been confronting her. Her
husband had been unusually cold and |
stern to her, too. Winnie looked up into
her mothers despairing, passion-w worked
face with innocent, frightened ewes. and