The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1883-07-12

whalin' big fore he died, an he used to
tell me how l waste have hice duds an
go back to school with a watch an chain, |
like any other gentleman. I've laid
awake O. nights, thinkin' O. that TIME,
an how some bows I know back in Mis-
soury d open their eyes when they see
me. Yes, sir! 1 thought an dremp o.
that time, but-but-pap died"
The boy still held his hands out over
the fire, but his voice had trembled at
the last; and when Molly slyly ganced
toward him, she saw great tears trem-
his lips were .quivering.
'Poor bye" she whispered, to Dan,
''he'Il not soon 90 cold and hungry
again, Dan Lannigan."
"After pap died." resumed the boy,
sf hadn't no place in pertickler to stay.
Times is purity hard down in Wild Cat
Camp; SO 1 hid myself id the stage boot,
an come UP here, cause I heerd they
was likely to be a boom here early in the
SPRING" = - 81
.'Sorry the boom old Faney's likely
to know" thought Molly, ''Tm thinkin'
it's had the only boom it'll ever have"
But she kept her thoughts to herself,
and prepared a good breakfast for the
boy, who said his hame. was Larrie.
Dah agreed with Molly that they'dbe
.tworse nor haythens'' if they turned
poor Larrie out into such a cold, cheer
less world as that around Camp Fancy.
Although Dan was a '.store-keeper,''
his worldly wealth was limited, indeed,
- IA A-zN - a a.s-a - Eo@1 AaL -.
mouth; but Molly declared, with tears
in her eyes that i'll luck indeed would
they see If they refused to befriend
shat poor starin'; big-eyed lad, wild
his, besaehih' voice an mannerly ways"
soLarrie staid in Camp Fancy through
all that long and terrible winter. The
prospects Of the camp grew gloomier
and gloomier. The mythical '.boom''
did not become a reality, The men
grew sad and desperate. They did not
assemble around the big stove id Dams
store. They did not like. to talk Of the
dreafy future that lay before them, and
they could no longer assume their gay
and careless ways with sore and troubled
hearts so heavy in their breasts. Hope
was dying out, and a great despair came
on these poor souls. Some of them had
spent three and four of the best years
. Of their lives here. Some had invested
the ~hard-earned savings of years in
Il minos that now seemed mere holes Ia
the ground. They had worked and
hopeL, and SOME had prayed that the
desolRte hills around old Camp Fancy
might yet give them fortune and respite
from their. la5ofs.
SOFT Is Id ~niining-camps Where men
ate only ~prospectors, the hidden veins
of silver are often so hard to find. SOME
y times they are within d foot of the
labarer. aad after. months of toll, he
may cd away and leave the treasure
hidden. The June days came again,
bit they brought ne s'beoms,toaG Camp
Fancy. Most of the men had gone, OF
were o going, from the camp. Their
deserted cabins made the place more
7Egloomy. 1t had gotten into bad repute
abroad, and rival camps, more pros
porous, cast upon poor old Fancy the
:. stigma of being mo good" =
But Dan and Molly and a few others
still remained. They had decided to
.thang on to the old camp" a month OF
two longer and sink their shafts and
slopes a little deeper before DESERVING
them entirely.
Larrie was still the only boy in the
camp, and he admitted that he some
t times got .'mighty ~lonesome;'' and he
often thought with a swelling heart o.
the nice clothes, the watch and chair
and the glad companionship of boys o.
his own age he had forever lost whe1
''pap died"
t Larrie had been a good boy, as Da1
and Molly admitted. He had brought
| wood and water, helped Molly on wasf
! days, carried Dan his dinner, washed
dishes, and done all he could to helI
his b~enefactors. They had never re
GREETED his coming-no, not ven whel
F: there was but meal enough left in thu
! bag to last, with skimping, anothe,
week, but a handful of coffee remained
in the can, and they knew not from
e whence a further supply was to come
/, Things had come to this pitiful pass il
Camp Fancy when, to the despair o
i, Molly, Dan fell ill.
He came home one night from hi
"claim," threw down his old pick ant
shovel and leaning YEARLY against tn
door-frame, said:
1 Molly, lass, I think I've struck tn
last lick I'll liver strike in the ould EN-
erald Isle. I'm sure there's no goo,
a in it."
The emerald Isle" was the name o
g Dams claim. On the morrow Dan wa
lying on his rough bunk, delirious wit
fever, while Molly hung over him i
alright and despair.
Larrie stole quietly out of the house
for Dan looked ''just like pap locke
fore he died." and the sight chilled tn
O bows heart. eff Dan should die?" h
e thought, and fell down on the barre
o ground, covering his face with his hand
and sobbing aloud.
Now this old-faced, sober boy ha
heard little else in all his short life bu
about mines and mining, prospects,
'strikes,n 'tbonanzas," etc. The mil
ers talked of little else, and Larrie ha
: early in life begun to think that his lif
n would be in vain until he owned a min
or at least a "claim." He had CON
It municated his desire to Dan, and q
a that worthy was what the p%rospectol
k called ssmine poor" owning no les
d than fifty claims, he had laughingl
taken Larrie to the cabin door, pointe
e to a post in the ground on a near hill
side and said:
e "There, lad, is a claim ye can have
an it's welcome We are to every ounc
We can git out iv it." The claim wa
e one Dan had long ago abandoned, br
d from the day it became Larrie's, Lii
had a new meaning to him.
. He secretly christened his claim th
a "Sally Marier," in remembrance an
IS alteration of a certain red-headet
freckle-faced, homely little Sally Mari'
who had been the recipient of his e,
n ceedingly early love back in '.Mi
If soury."
,r But the image of that Sally Maria ha
never faded from Larrie's memory, a
though he had good reasons for belie'
o. ing that she had ridden to school on
% rivals sled and delightedly munched
rivals candy before Larrie was fairl
out Of Missouri.
He had with a blue pencil printe
"SALLY MARIER'' on a piece of pape