The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1878-03-06
JOEL BRaNDT's LoDGER
A TALE OF OLD CALIFORNIA.


forward YEARLY, and coughing nov
and then heavy, hollow cough that
told its own story.
There were only two houses on the
mesa, stretching shaggy and sombre
with grease-wood dwellings, With
their clumps of trailing pepper trees
and tattered bananas, specks o.
civilization against stern back
ground of mountain-side. The trav
eler halted before one of them, bow
ing awkardly as the master OF the
house came out.
"Mr. Brant, reckon"
Joel Brandt looked keenly into The
strangers face Not a bad face GER
tainly 4; salIow and drawn with suf
ferlng, one of those hopeless pa
thetic faces barely saved from the
grotesque by pair of dull, wistful
eyes.
Not that Joel Brandt saw anything
grotesque or pathetic about the man.
Another sickly looking stranger
outside, Barbara, wantsto try the air
up here. Can you keep him Or
maybe the Foxes II give him q
BERTH
Mrs. Brandt shook her head in
house -wifely meditation.
"No, Mrs. Fox can't; that's certain,
She has an asthma and two 5ronchi.
tises there now. What is the matter
with him, Joel ?"
The strangers harsh, resonant
cough answered.
keep him ? To be sure. You
might know I'd keep him, Joel. The
nigh. airs no place for man with q
cough like that. Bring him into the
kitchen right away"
The new conner spread his bony
hands over Mrs Brandt's CHEEKY fire
and the soft, dull eyes followed her
movements wistfully.
"The fire feels kind o. honey,
ma'am California amt much of a
place for fires, it pears"
Been long on the coast, stran-
ger ?" Joel squared himself inter
negatively.
Bout week. I'm from Indian
nv. Brice's my name-Posey Brice,
the boys 10 the glass mill call me.
| was blowed up in glass mill
oncet." The speaker turned to show
an ugly scar on his neck. Didn't
know where i was for six weeks
thought / hadn't lit. When | come to
there was Loisy potterin' over me !;
but amt beeh rugged sence."
Married ~
The mans answer broke through
the patient LONELINESS of his face at
once He fumbled in his pocket ST.
lently, like one who has no common
disclosure to make.
What dye think o. them, stran-
ger {"
Joel took little black case in his
hands reverently A woman's face
not grand not fair even-some bits of
tawdry fnery making its plainliness
plainer-and beside it round eyed
boy pumped into high chair, and
two little feet sticking starily in Joel's
face.
Mrs Brandt looked over her hus-
bands shoulder with kindly curiosi-
ty.
"The boy favors you amazingly
about the mouth but he's got his
mothers eyes, and they are sharp,
knowing eyes, too.
"Y ours, l reckon"
eyes, that's Loisy and the boy"
fighting the conscious pride in his
voice like one who tried TO wear his
honors meekly.
He took the well worn case again,
gazed into the two faces an instant
with helpless yearning, and returned
it to its place. The very way he
handled it was caress, fastening
the little brass hook with scrupulous
care.
an be sendin' fur 'em when | get
red O. this pesterin' cough"
A very quiet, unobtrusive guest
Mrs. Brandt found the man Brice,
talking little save in a sudden gush
Of confdence-and always OF his
wife and child choosing a quiet cor
ner in the kitchen in the chill Cali
fornia nights, where be watched his
hostess deft movements with wisiful
admiration,
"Try huntin' Brice; the doctors
mostly say its healthy"
And Brice tried hunting, as Joel
advised. Taking the gun from the
crotch over the door after breakfast,
and wandering for hours in the yell
low wine-iike air of the mesa, be
came in at noon and nightlfal empty
banded, yet no one derided his fail
ure. There was something about the
man that smothered derision.
"a sort of thunderin' patience that
knocks fellow" Bert Fox put IN.
Mrs. Brant had always an encour-
aging word for the hunter
"Grease-wood's bad for huntin'.
joel says it don't pay to look for
quail in the brush when he does fetch
'em down.
Like enough. | dunno, ma'am.
Reckon I've bad a good many shots
at the little critters, but they allus
turn their heads so kind o. innocent
like A man as has been blowed
up oncet hisself amt much at sepa-
ratin families. But s'pose it amt the
shootin' that's healthy, mebbe."
"And so the hunting came to an
end without bloodshed. Whether
the doctors were right or whether il
was the mingled resin and honey of
the sage and chapparal no one cared
TO ask Certain il is that the "pester-
in cough" yielded a little, and the
bent form grew trife more erect.
81 think likely it's the lookin up,
ma'am. Mountains seem to straight
en- fellow some way. Pears to me
somebody writ oncet by liften' his
eyes to the hills for help. Mebbe
not though. | amt much at recol-
lectin' verses. Loisy's a powerful
hand that way"
Perhaps the man was right. 1t
was the looking up.
He followed Joel from the table
one morning. stopping outside. his