The New Orleans daily Democrat. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1877-1880, 1879-02-23
THE NEW ORLEANS DEMOCRAT, SUNDAY FEBRUARY % 1877
you was coming out2" he asked, as we

resumed our journey.
Several mails back he wrote that
yon might possibly be sent out. but
never heard anything certain"
| oh! well, you see, Westcott, the
governor Is getting old. and closer and
more suspicious every day. Lately he
won't even allow fellow an opinion Of
his own. SO one fine morning / got
marching, or rather sailing orders, and
| here / am"
ALI this was said In the same quiet,
rather bored manner which had set my
| back up before; still / could not help
softening to the boy when / looked at
his face and saw how unfit he would
prove for station life.
And what do you intend to do, Mr..
Clint, now that you are here?" | asked,
otter a pause.
DO? Oh, nothing that know OF. /
suppose / shall stay with you till get
orders to start again. I'll 20 about with
you, unless you don't want my com
pany and | suppose / must write
report for the governors benefit,
every month, in which / hope you'll
held me-"
He laughed as IL there was joke
somewhere, but for my part [ felt rather
put out. Here was a great baby sent
out for me to take In tow. and yet all
the time he was my "boss," and had
TO report on my management. | was 9
bit OF an autoCrat on my station, and
resented this.
Fairfax Clint seemed to guess what /
was thinking. Look here, Westcott, =
he said, touching my horses neck with
| his whip, and speaking in a more manly
and earnest tone, which | liked better.
my fathers all wrong In this bust
ness. What's the use of his sending me
out to overlook his runs, when | know
less than q child about such things
| but that's no business OF mine, and still
less Of yours. Let US be friends while
we are together. Forget that my name
fancy me new hand you've just picked
up to clean your boots and addle your
| horse. can do both, / assure you
| All the while he had been speaking
we had slowly climbed steep hill
clothed with white Towering, manuka
and fern. AS he ceased we reached the
summit, and began to descend on the
other side, so my only answer was &c
point out the stock yard In the valley
at our feet, hanked by single STORED
wooden house.
There's Wyke station. I've lived
here for six years, and am glad to vel
| COII16 d SDu III blG w lbs
| "That's kindly said,' he answered
gravely, falling back in the narrow
path. "I'll follow you, and only trust
this brute Is sure-footed."
| We reached the stock yard and tieC
up our horses, the dogs rushing out te
welcome us, and Tom, the cook, open
| ing the house door and showing warm
glow OF freight.
Come in, Mr.. Clint" I said, "and
be prepared to rough 1t. This Is the
kitchen; here's the parlor, which Is the
drawing-room. smoking room and feed
ing-room In one; you see there is nc
lack OF dry wood here, so we have good
fires; here's my bedroom, and yondel
room shall be got ready for you by the
time supper's over. Meantime, make
yourself at home, and use mine," and
having, as / thought, done the honors
handsomely, [ kicked the smolderinp
logs into cracking blaze, and left him
in possession Of my sanctum. When
came In from seeing to our horses
home, chattering to Tom, as that ole
rascal fried mutton-chop and pota.
| toes.
by Jove, / never thought OF my
horse" he exclaimed in CONSERVATION
AS he caught sight of me coming liz
from the yard with his and my saddle
''why on earth didn't you tell me
| Westcott ?"
Ibid you think W. kept a groom
here 2" / retorted. Never mind, younl
'un; you shall do boz b horses to-mor
row, / promise you. Show light, Tom
while l wash my hand. and then fol
supper, for I'm starvint"