The Russellville Democrat., 1881-03-10

passengers.
 The supper was delayed that night, but it's quality made ample amends We had never before seen Aunt 'Cinda's table so invitingly spread, particularly as to canned fruits and unsuspected tuinb- lers of jelly and preserves; and there was buttered toast, too, and Jumps of old-time loaf sugar for the coffee. One guest said the feast was good enough for wedding --at which Aunt 'Cinda colored, and sighed forlornly, and they all laughed. An, they did not guess how that sug- gested word wounded her But Aaron was not to be seen, nor the woman with the baby; they had eaten by themselves, before we were called, as was proper, and were waiting for Aunt 'Cinda in "the entry room," as she had named it, the room so long sacredly kept for Aaron's coming And so the merriment around the table went on unchecked. The guests were blameless, to be sure; never theless, their jokes and laughter were exasperating; their very presence had the effect of an intrusion. We felt supreme relief, l know, when it was over at last, and the stage had departed, and the se- eret was safe; and then we ventured to inquire after the sick man, aud tender our services, should he need or desire
  them.
 "He's weaker'n he lets on," Aunt 'Cinda informed us "an' he don't pear to have no appetite. 1 felt so sorry for him, a-tryin' so hard to eat when he couldn't. It was such nice supper, he said. l could "a cried to see him a-look in so wishin' at them pickled tomatuses like 1 used to make 'em back yender. He is Aaron you know;" and she turned from us, rather abruptly, we thought, and left the room.
 We lit our pipes, and sauntered out to look after our ponies. It had grown much darker. We could not see the shallow, crawling river. The wagon still stood by the roadside, the loose cover Tapping like some great fateflll wing; the oxen were grazing contentedly few rods away From the far-of mystery of space and vagueness came an echo of coy otes spiteful challenge. The daily vel low of the stone corral was subdued to the tone of ancient and crumbling ruins; for moment we felt as if we ought to find moss and vines there. Our ponies lay reclined upon the trodden feeding ground, and did not so much as prick up an ear when we walked to them and pat ted them, with accustomed familiarity. In vain we tried to chat of pleasant things, of other scenes. The solitude would not be disturbed; and somehow the smoke from our pipes, instead of floating upward, was waited back into our faces, and confused our sight.
 When we returned to the cabin, finally, we were surprised, thong not displeased, to find that Aaron was going to occupy our sleeping-room. They had kindled blaze for him in the big fireplace, and made him generous couch of blankets, clean and white with astonishing sheets and pillow-slips, that were full of deep creases, and must have been long while folded The bed looked more like home than anything we had seen for months, albeit, there was no bedstead. He evi- dently felt out of place and embarrassed in it. He would have rested better we fancied had they given him less of soft ness and daintiness, and brought him frontiersman saddle, with sheepskin top for pillow; droll hint of the kind came over his face, and gave it down. cast expression. We aimed to avoid conversation with him, knowing how fatigued, unstrung, and in need of sleep he was; but he talked in spite of us, and regardless whether we responded or not Indeed, he seemed morbidly resolute to tell us of himself and his affairs-not as one reaching out for pity, but rather as one offering an explanation. We could not but listen.
 'I was fool," he said frankly, "but 1 mean, right, an what a man means ort Q be sot down for him. It wasn't my fault 'at l didn't git along down ther' among the greasers. Luck was ag'in' me from the very jump. Sometimes l axed myself if may be it wasn't a jedgment onto me; an may be it was-may be it was. was crazy to get rich, you under stand"
 And he paused to indulge a mockin smile.
 But meant all the time to go back" he continued, "only I wanted to get ahead first. It would "a groun' me in an inch O my life to "a had em a nag gin me all over Boone's Lick about com in home dead broke after all my fine talk about gittin' rich. So jist hel' on, an kep' sayin' to myself, Ole man, play your han cut, trumps or no trumps.' Did think much about 'Ginda? Well l rather calkilate my head was full of her. That was the pizenest part of it." He hesitated moment rehectively, and then, "she don't know how much l hankered for her." he said under his breath.
 "Pll never git done despisin' myself, though" he resumed, "for not sendin' letters to her. But I wasn't doin bit O good, an thought what was the use O worrin' her? I'd orter "a sent her the letters anyhow; it would "a been money in my pocket. l was reckonin' l might start back any day almost An l did go back jest as soon's ever get | heeled. It was wood contract, out to fort, at sot me up; it fetched me a round | thousan dollars, l didn't stop to send no letter nor nothin' to 'Cinda then. I jest naturally got up and got. A company | O cavalry was goin' aerost to Fort Smith on tother trail you understand-an' went with 'em, an saved week by it. An when l struck Boone's Lick, whar' was 'Cinda2 Sot out for Kansas five year ago that harvest, they told me, 'lowin to come back afore cold weather an she'd never been heern tell of sence."
 He went on to relate, with moving art lessness, how he searched for her, all over the settled portions of Kansas and | through the border counties of Missouri, making inquiry at every house he passed of every person he met, without once reachin the faintest clue to her where abouts.
 T was clean beat" he declared, 'I couldn't make it out It was like B if l was lost on the prairie, of dark night, in the snow. She must be dead they