The Russellville Democrat., 1881-03-10
AUNT 'CINDA'S RANCH.
By Henry King of Topeka, Ks, om scribner's
 for February.

By Henry King of Topeka, Ks, om Scribners
 for February.
 There was plenty of game in the neigh borhood of Aunt 'Cinda's Ranch, as we had been told; but our informant had neglected to state that it was also one of the dreariest places on earth. Far as the eye could reach in every direction lay only prairie, prairie, prairie-treeless and flat, with short, trivial grass, and over the face of it all, that indescribable, tawny blur, peculiar to the outlying Kansas plains. The little level river in front of the ranch had no banks, and flowed slug gishly; the ranch itself was four-roomed cabin of melancholy adobe, fianked by stone corral, in which were awkward racks and troughs for horses.
 The interest and excitement of our ehases after antelopes, jackrabbits, and occasionally wandering buffalo, served to kill time for us during the day, but when evening came, and we returned to the ranch, tired out and thinking of home, the sense of exile became almost painful. The fact that the ranch was station, where a brief halt was made for supper. alone redeemed it from utter desolation, for this gave us our sole glimpses of the distant world, in the faces and conversation of the passengers, with now and then a stray newspaper. We used to stand watching the slow and gorgeous sunsets with pretty pietense of admiration, when, in reality, our thoughts were bent upon catching sight of the first curl of dust which should de- note the approaching stage. The pas sengers were not always attractive or com municative, but all the same we hailed them warmly; and when they left, the horizon seemed swiftly to widen, and the stars to creep farther upward in the high, inhospitable sky.
 It was at such empty times that we turned forlornly to our associates of the ranch-to the landlady, Aunt 'Cinda Me Milan. and the swarthy Mexican and his wife, who were in her service. The resource was an unprottable one at first; but gradually we found 'Cinda to be character worth knowing, and you may be sure we left no artifiee untried to win from her all she had to tell She was TO- bust, strong feathered, and about forty five years old; there were streaks of gray in her heavy black hair, few wrinkles in her cheeks; her eyes had an alert and seeking look, such as you see in the eyes ofpersons who live much alone. Some times, when she grew animated, and
 
 believe that in her girlish days she had lacked but little-say merely change of mouth--to make her pretty. But it was her story, and not herself, that main ly held our attention and encouraged our inquiries; indeed, she usually appeared, when recounting the strange incidents of her story, to be talking of some one else, y so free from vanity was she, and so can did.
 She had been reared we learned, in the Boone's Lick country, in Missouri, and there had Aaron McMillan known and wooed her. The memory of her courtship was very vivid to her, and she dwelt upon it with lingering fondness "Aaron wasn't the purtiest man in the world, by long odds" she would say; "he was light complected and had sandy beard, and freckles; but he was jest as good as ever they make 'em: ] disre- member how twas that he fust begun keepin' company with me Ther' was likelier gals than me in the settlement; Lucy Walker, for one, that sung alto and played onto the melodion; and Samanthy N Pettis, that had money in her own right, an sech little tapern' feet, an she liked to show 'em too. But Aaron an me, we both tux a shine ( each other, an he
 
 any 'O the balance of 'em. 'Cinda,' he used to say, some gals is putty an high steppin', an some is handy about bakin' an weavin' an sech, an some is peart in larnin' but it's the average as counts, Cinda' I'll never fOrgit that, not if l live thousan' years, It's the average as counts: l can a'most hear him sayin' that now. He used to come to see me every other Sunday, rain or shine, an when ther' was a moon he'd take.me to meetin', over to the Chapel four mile away. The Campbellites an Methodis' t- used to have union meetin's there, an reyiyals. an shoutin'. Aaron's folks was Campbellites, an leant that way, and mine was Baptis'. But we didn { never argy about religion. Bless you, mo-"
 Then she would detail 10 us, bit by bit, the current of their closer talks together as they rode homeward from church, or sat upon the porch behind the morning glories. It could hardly be called love making, Aunt 'Cinda herself termed il "sparkin'," and even that sounded toe hectic for an intercourse that had in il apparently so little of passion,-so small chance of heart-break But perhaps beneath that calm surface, beyond grasf of expression, had throbbed a wealth oI reyerentand tender preference that was worth everything else in life-these sim Slle undemonstrative natures so frequent " shame the best of loves examples with their unguessed and quiet power