The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1882-03-22

WIFI lGS eagles neSb, In0 nuSn ana Sc
renity of the silent forest. Five miles
under the pines, where one was less
tormented by mosquitoes, and then
came final one--a wade rather than
walk. l had forgotten the bog and the
corduroy had sunk quite out of sight,
though could feel it now and then
below the black mud which held tena
ciously to,each foot by turn and yielded
with long, slow suck, like smack of
evil satisfaction over my tribulations
Ten thousand hands could not have
availed against that gray column of
mosquitoes, whose sound seemed at last
trumpet call to other columns, and
which, in spite of headgear and leather
gloves, penetrated the unknown and
unguarded chink or crevice.
Through the swamp at last and out
once more under the friendly pines,
and ran, knowing the goal was near,
and seeing soon the flashing sunlight
on the blue water. There was bend
ing figure near the lake. Along the
brook emptying into it corn and peas
and beans were growing, and, actually,
balsam5 and even sweet-peas at the
end
My squaw has been brought over to
white mans fashions" 1 say half aloud,
and then stopped short, as the figure
sprang up and turned with subdued
"my. gracious u. when she saw the
mud-coated and caked, torn, and most
sreputable-looking apparition before
her. So wan face, such watery and
faded, yet somehow intense blue eyes,
so infinitesimal a nub of hair, so
shadowy yet resolute wrath, l had
never YET encountered, even in remotest
and most unfriended cabin. where a
woman's life means the speedy loss of
every trace of comeliness and grace.
"Well, 1 call it a providence " she
said, coming forward with q sort of
silent rush as if carried by the wind.
The first day I've ever been lone
some mite or thought to care, but
he's gone below three days now, an
Shahweah off or berries, an 1 did say
jest now, be the pond there, it was
leetle lonesome. An then to think OF
white woman bein' what 1 should see
1t does beat all Where be you from
reckon it's dry country you've left
behind you," she added with twinkle,
"for you have brought all the mud with
you. Now you come straight up along
with me, an I'll scrape you off some.
Where's your folks ?"
"Six miles back in a mud.hole," /
answered. with the ghostly impression
still strong upon me. The voice was
only husky whisper, and nearer
view only intensified the bloodlessness
of the skin hardly hiding the poor bones
haIOw Tho woman lan0had
Youthink I'm q poor show" she
said. "Folks gin'ly do; but I'm health
itself to what was"
"You were not here when 1 went up
year ago?"
"No; I come in November. When
you're in some of my clothes an have
had cup of tea I'll tell you all about
it. There's the house. Aint that pretty
for Gulf Lake? Kinder comfortable ?"
Comfortable A palace could not
have held tenth of all the word meant |!
A "but and a ben" only, but how
| spotlessly neat Morning-glories and
hops climbing over door and window,
where white curtains hung snow
white bed, shut in by mosquito bar /; a
square of rag carpet on the floor stove
and tins polished to their utmost capac-
ity - one of shining blackness, the
other of shining brightness-a dresser
holding civilized dishes shelf, where
two or three books lay-the Bible,
Whittier's poems and "David Copper
field" and a pile of well-worn papers;
an old-fashioned rocking-chair with
patchwork cushions, and slight stand"
near it and, to complete the curious
mixture of old New England farmhouse
and frontier-cabin, warming. pan hang
ing between the windows, its copper
face shining like everything else.
"You think that's queer thing to
tote out West% said my hostess, who
had already spread cloth and put on
fresh water to boil for the promised
cup of tea. 4" I 'lotted on it before
was big enough to reach it, hangin'
there in grandmother's kitchen up in
Vermont, an when l went West, least
ways what was West forty years ago
to Pennsylvany-I took it along for old
times, and then to Illinois an Mime
sofa an here we both are up here
You'd say it wasn't much more use than
Timothy Dexter's ship-load for the
West Iniies; but he made fortune out
o. that, an 1 sort of expect good luck
from this one. Now, before that
kettle biles, you might freshen up a
mite. The heft of il we won't do
nothin' to till you've had your tea."
Words can never tell the delight OF
that fresbening-frst in cold water in
a real wash-basin, then the tea, drank
to an accompaniment of narrative
poured out as if mere speech were a
gift straight from heaven. An in
domitable cheerfulness, a resolute
grasp of these shadowy threads of life,
seemed the strongest characteristic Of
this creature in whose faded eyes quick
CLEANS of expression came and went,
and whose alertness and even vivacity
were miraculous testimonies to the inn
perious will that governed the frail
body, no matter what human weakness