The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1877-01-05

an object of such utter inward loathing
that her whole life was a hypocritical
farce.
Things were in this unsettled condi-
tion when one day an old gentleman
with white hair and venerable mien ap-
preached the cabin, leading, and half
bearing in his arms, the drunken head
of the family, who, with silly smiles
and voluble utterance, ordered Aunt
Judy to prepare some food for the
stranger.
The old lady was in the -four to her
elbows, and so busy with the pastry
cooking which Edna had long been I'M
able to do that she was in no very amia-
BILE mood.
81 must say that look like cooking
food for strangers, don't 1, now ?'' she
asked, abruptly.
The stranger looked at Ter with
glance of surprise, and then, controlling
hir emotions with an effort of his will,
said, pleasantly, "I beg your pardon,
madam. have no desire to intrude if
my visit is not opportune. This man
informed the that you accommodated
travellers with food"
Where had Aunt Judy heard that
voice? Had she ever heard it, except
in her dreams? She turned deathly
pale.
40, sir" she faltered, 'its no trouble
at all to get you dinner"
And then, in spite of her ruffled tenn
per, the good woman smiled like sun
beam, as she fitted hither and thither
about her work, and soon placed before
him, on a snowy tablecloth, made of the
bleached linen sacking of the flour used
in the mines, carefully overseamed in
the middle and as carefully fringed at
the edges, one of the most savory meals
ever gotten up from almost nothing,
whether in the mines or out of them.
"Sir, will you be so kind as to tell me
your name, and whence you are comeW
The question was an abrupt one, and
Aunt Judy was surprised at herself for
having uttered it.
81 am known as THE Stranger" was
the abstract answer, "and I sometimes
wonder if l am not the Wandering
Jew"
"I like that" said Edna, from her in
valid's seat in the corner, formed of a
dry goods box covered with gunny
sacks, her head resting against the
rough, unhewn Ill of the cabin, and
her feet ensconced upon a sack of beans,
which a miner had given to Aunt Judy
in exchange for stipulated number of
doughnuts and pies.
"And why do you like my title, if
may be pardoned for the question ?"
asked the stranger, turning from the re-
past before him and looking inquiringly
into the eyes of the invalid, who re-
garded him with an interest bordering
on fascination.
81 like it because there is mystery and
excitement about it. I like anything
better than this ploddiug, humdrum
life that brings nothing with it but toll,
pain, weakness, weariness, and disgust -
"You see, Mr.. Stranger, that my
wfe's imbibed ever so many foolish no.
tiOns,n said John. "She's concluded
that she's smarter than I am, that she
lowered her dignity by marrying me,
and all that. Just as if Pm not giving
her as good home as any poor man
gives a wife in these diggings! She's
been laid up for three months, too. and
have supported her through it ALL"
ayes, John, you are most exemplary
husband Anybody can see that p'
thought Edna, turning her face toward
the unhewn wall to hide the tears that
would start in spite of her effort to sub
due them.
Never mind trouble" said the
. stranger "When you've seen as much
: of life as have, and have learned thai
. in spite of the husks you get when de.
pending on others for happiness thai
} yourself, from which you can drink
cupious lraughts of pure cOntentment
you will have found, not the philoso
: piers stone, but the still waters of {
: quiet life. One must live one lifetime
before he learns the art of living at ALL
"And how, pray, can you learn to de
pend wholly upon yourself, and live fo
no one except yourself, when you hav'
, others depending upon you and hamper
f ing your life continually?"
/ "You do not understand me, madam
= Husband and children are parts of you
very self"
e "Under some circumstances they arep
thought Edna. Then, aloud:
3 "I don't believe at all in living TO
D ones self alone. 1 believe that tn,
] purest life is that which is given who'll!
: for others; and of all selfish and un
happy mortals that have ever met, tn
s man or woman who has no domestic oh
r legations is the most miserable"
: ''Then why are you unhappy
: madam?"
because I am sick"
r "And why are you sick ?''
;, because of 4 good many things tha
: do not suit me.
- IL It'd, Ill a.,