The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1877-07-20

my reader. Possibly l have undertaken
too much. If 80, let the demand for
this kind of literature to fill these col
umns, a demand to which have en-
deavored to cater regularly for six-tenths
of decade, be my only apology. do
not write these things for fun.
The site chosen by the Marbleheads,
and afterwards assented to by the
Joneses for the new farms, was beau
tiful rise in an otherwise nearly level
prairie, overlooking the Little Cheha-
lem, a clear, sweet, mountain stream
that in times so long ago that the his
tory of man runneth not back to its be-
ginning, tore its way through the up
folded rim of the receding ocean, and
sought channel through peaceful in
land wales toward the Pacific sea.
Very deep and narrow was this wind
ing channel in places; and along its
borders grew dense groves of alder, ma
pie, willow, and hazel. Again the river
bed widened in the level lands, where
pebbles fiourished and rapids formed,
where the annual freshets tore up the
roots of the forming trees and left the
banks continually bereft of shade. But
go where you would along the Cheha-
lem's margin, and, whether in the jun
giles, where overhanging branches cast
deep shadows in the still waters at
whose edge the mountain ferns looked
up into the naples faces, or whether i'll
sang lullabys to the listening senses,
you would invoIuntarily exclaim,
"How beautiful ~
Very wearily did Martha Marblehead
take up the line of thankless toll left by
her mother as her only heritage.
The Major, who was always affable in
the presence of the widow Jones, groaned
like monk doing penance when at
home, and was so cross and hard to
please that the children, one and all,
grew to contempt him.
Here let me remark, en- pGSSunt, good
reader, that the Major was not the only
man L have known-or you either, for
that matter-who, by a spirit of contin-
ual vinegar-faced fault-finding, has
caused his family not only to fear and
despise him, but to deceive him in every
way in their power to keep up the SEM
blance of peace in the family.
Now, remember, 1 am not blaming
pater fanaiLias overmuch for this. I'm
der the law and training to which men
have been accustomed from the dark
ages, my only wonder is that so many
of them are unlike Marblehead.
To begin life in a new country with
the bending sky for roof and the velvet
earth for floor is decidedly romantic to
think about, and very pleasant to expe-
rience if you are one of a pleasure party
that can retreat to a comfortable home
when rain falls, or can look forward to
bountiful stores of clothing and proven
der for the winter months. But when
the only roof you have on earth is the
bending sky, your only floor the earth,
and your only prospect for food, for a
year, at least, your fishing rod and rifle,
the romance of the matter takes French
leave, aud you sigh, not for the flesh
pots of Egypt, but the grain fields of
cultivated America.
After much labor, three primitive log
cabins were constructed, with chimneys
and fire-places of dried mud, and with
out floors or windows. But they formed
fair shelter from the autumn rains, and
into these gloomy retreats the two fam
lilies crowded, while the food, such as
| they had, was cooked before the open
fire, and the children, the obstreperous
Gus included, kept as best they could
out of the range of the Majors ever
ready rod, and the gloomy cabin was
like sepulchre.
Quite in contrast to the gloom and
discomfort of the Majors cabin was the
equally humble home where the widow
Jones resided.
"Why don't you fix up your cabin
and make it look like mine, Martha ?"
asked the widow, one day, as she was
making a most infrequent call.
"What's the use ?" was the petulant
reply. at wouldn't stay so half an
hour. Father would growl, and the
young ones would litter, and Td only
have my labor for my palms."
81 think, my dear, that little judi
cious management would subdue your
unruly household and bring order out
of your present confusion. I got Thomas
to saw away the logs and make me a
couple of little openings for windows,
which covered with oiled paper, so we
have very good light. True, it isn't
all we could wish, but it makes the
room look cheerful and tidy. Then l
curtained my beds with sheets tackled
nicely over frames, andwhen Pm in my
bed look upon its narrow, white walls
and fairly fancy Z m in paradise. Come
over and look at my house, won't you?''
Since Thomas Jones had once at
tempted to make timid matrimonial ad-
vances to Martha, that young lady had
been very shy of him, and consequently
she had not yet visited the lady's cabin.
This invitation emboldened her and she
decided to go, though in her heart she