The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1878-03-21

know the rest, or a good deal Of it
But you didn't know-yOu would neve
have guessed if l hadn't told you
that it was too much happiness mad
me what amp
i With this last paradox, he turne,
partially aside, and I noticed tina
he was fumbling about his clothes as
in search of something-tobacco,
presumed. Presently he drew on
from some inscrutable hiding-place al
old creased and rumpled leather pocket
book, and took from it faded sprig o
cedar, and handing it to me, said, witt
that CLASSY, cynical smile 1 had seen 8,
often: There's rosemary, that's 70
remembrance. Pray you, love, re
member" Then he told me Isabel ha,
given it to him once, standing by tn
gate, and that he had carried it through
all the long years as a memento of her
When l reached it back to him, he pu
it away again in the wrinklcd oil,
pocket-book as tenderly as if it ha,
been tress of hair from the head of
dead baby, and then, =" l wonder if sh,
ever thinks of me?' he said, quite seri
ously, and we walked leisurely up tn,
| Ao"S oUAOOO TSCUACAs HCiCuCI VI u!
speaking word more until we came tt
the corner where we had to separate
and there we merely said "good
night" and parted.
| l did not see him again for some
time, and when, at length, he made mt
another visit, in the afternoon of s
mellow October day, he informed me
that he was about to leave the town
"Our planet is dropping into it's an.
nual shadow" he said, with mock
gravity, "and must HE me away to
fresh fields and pastures new. Iwant
to commune with Nature. you under.
stand; to touch the earth, like Anteus
to eat haws. and smell the fall wheat
to mingle with the quails, and
! blue-jays, and woodpcckers, and all
! that sort of thing. Be good to
yourself, Cap. Don't work too
hard, and beware of the enemy which
men put in their mouths to steal
away their brains. By-by." And be.
fore had time to answer, he was out
OF my sight and shutting down the
stairs, leaving me in a mood that was
nearer sadness than would have cared
to confess, and which, l fear, gave a
downcast tinge to the Commonwealth
editorials for several mornings after
ward.
He returned in about two weeks,
strange to say, and he solemnly assert
ed that he had only been "looking for
a homestead. He was jaded, foot
sore, and, as usual, little shabbier
than usual as to clothing! He had
read, he said, in some real-estate paper,
of locality out in primeval Kansas
where corn grew wild, and livestock
waxcd fat on the mere superabundance
Of ozone, and every quarter-section had
been neatly fenced with stone by the
geological commissions of past ages;
and he had been hunting for
it, intending to enter home
stead in it and become gentle shep-
herd. He couldn't find it, though; and
now he wanted a few days work "to
replenish his depleted exchequer."
But, most of all, he said, he wanted to
see the man who wrote those things he
read in that paper.
The foreman found work for him in
the job-room; but the next Saturday he
left again, without even the formality
of saying goodbye to me. We heard
of him in few days, cracking jokes
with Nobe Prentis of the function
Union; then working week for Milf
Reynolds, of the Parsons Sun; then in
the Calaboose at Fort Scott, and Web
Wilder, of the Monitor, paying fires for
him to keep him out of the chain-gang;
and from Fort Scott he swung around,
about the middle of December, to To-
peka.
"Just glidcd in to pay my respects, :"
he remarked, and to tell you I'm of
for the sunny South. / like you Kan
sas fellows ever SO much, but want to
see the magnolias."
That was all he said. An hour later,
happening to look from my window,
saw him moving briskly down the
street which was also the State road,
and, waving his hand to me, he disap-
peared.
He came back again, with the grass
and the birds, the following spring.
He had been to Galveston, he ex-
planned, and had worked his way north
through Arkansas and the Indian Ter
ritory. Somehow the trip seemed to
have disappointed him. He talked
gloomily about it, when l could
get him to talk of it at all,
and the very thought of il
appeared to cloud his spirits like the
haunting of some miserable dream.
Perhaps the trouble was deeper than
my shallow vision discerned; perhaps
it came from within, and not from
without ut all. Sometimes l thought
so; but knowing him as did, the alb
surdity of the thing would creep in to
upset such notions. And, finally, when
he came to me one night, with the old,
familiar, quizzical expression N his
countenance, and told me he wanted to
talk to me about writing an obituary
for him when he should die, I felt sure
that he was recovering himself, and
would soon touch his natural poise
again.
II hope you appreciate the honor
confer upon you," said he, ''in select
ing you to give me my final send-off
It's because l like your style; and
want you to tell just the barefooted
facts about. me- nothing extenuate,
nor aught set down in malice DOM
speak Of me as a brilliant, but cratic
fellow, for that will simply mean that
was an awful liar. Don't say of me,
He had his faults, as who of us has
not because that is merely a polite
way of telling that the deceased was
q drunken sot. And If die Of
the jim-jams, as I probably shall,
don't say it was apoplexy, or paral
ysis, but call it jim-jams, plain ard
simple; I'll feel better about it il
you do. l suppose there are few
good things you can say of me-. Say
'em as kindly as possible, please, and
chuck in little Shakespeare-if you
can think of something to suit. o.
course you can't say anything abou,
where I've gone; we can't any of u,
figure much on that, you know-every
things SO mixed and uncertain ovel
there. Genesis closes, you recollect
with a cofiin.''
Having thus bespoken my services
and indicated his preferences as to how
the delicate task should be performed,
he retired. humming to himself thu
breezy chorus of an old drinking song