Connecticut western news., 1880-05-12
THE HERMIT.
A Mineral City Romance.

Away up on the main range-the Sierra Madre-ef the Rocky mountains, 12,000 feet above the sea, rests little , mining camp of some twenty or twenty five rough log cabins right on the edge of timber line. North, south, east and west huge peaks tower in their massive grandeur and rear their stony heads to the rising and setting sun, and seem like grim old sentinels keeping watch over the little basin in which are the cabins, collectively known as Mineral City. The mountain sides are scanned and ribbed with the rich silver veins of San Juan, and scores of cuts, shafts and tunnels echo daily to the clang of drill and sledge as the hardy miners delve after the metallic treasures of these great store-houses. 5 Near the blacksmith shop, where the not unmelodious ring of drills and picks being sharpened is heard all the day and far into the night, a little cabin stands unobtrusive upon its rocky foundation. There is an air of neatness about it's hipped roof of nicely split "shakes !" and its. carefully-hewn door that speaks well for the patience, taste and skill of its builder In fact, the cabin is pointed out as fine specimen of frontier architecture.
 The solitary owner and occupant of this little building was known through out the camp as < the Hermit" :" Not, be 1t understood, because of his initiating T taose poor old beings of ancient story who dwelt in caves and he'd at the ap- proach of any one, but simply because he was taciturn, quiet old fellow who worked his mine alone, and, when join ing the rest of the men about the fire in the saloon, always sought corner and rarely, if ever, took part in the converse ion.
 He was vastly different from the rest of his fellow laborers He never drank !; he never swore but, in his quiet, unob- trusive way, would sit and gaze intently at the fire, unmindful of the stories, the hearty laughter, the social drinking and the absorbing games of cards going on around him. Tall he was, with decided stoop in his shoulders; long beard, plentifully streaked with gray, and a pair of wearied, restless, nervous, yearning eyes, that somehow appealed to the 2 rough but good hearted miners.
 Mail came twice week in Mineral City, and the saloon was the post-office. Regularly upon the carriers arrival the Hermit would join the crowd and listen with an eager, expectant air as the super scriptions of the various letters were read out by the oon-keeper, and then, when the last missive had been reached and either claimed or set aside, he would lower his head and slowly slip away to his seateat the corner of the fireplace, with never word. Every mail that went out carried letter from the Her init, always directed to the same party, and every month he registered one to the same address, which the boys shrewdly guessed contained such money as the poor fellow was able to scrape together from the scanty yield of his mine-the Alice.
 The boys had often debated upon writing letter to the Hermit, for his continual expectation and his regularly bitter disappointment touched them, but they argued that it would not be what he wanted, and so the idea was aban- doned Several of them asked the Post master to lay aside their letters without reading aloud their addresses, that the contrast might not be so painful to the Hermit, and none of them gave vent to any joyful exclamations when the mail brought them favors, as was their wont. The old whisky keg, at the corner of the fireplace, was always reserved for the Hermit, and, come when he might, he never found it occupied, nor, when sit ting there, was he ever crowded. And so these rough frontiersmen showed II ; various ways their sympathy for theil lonely and silent companion, of whom they knew nothing save what hi pinched, careworn face and yearnine eyes told
 One day. the mail came in and thu Hermit was not there. This was so un usual that it led to considerable specula tion among the boys. Then Roney