The Douglas independent. [volume] (Roseburg, Or.) 187?-1885, 1883-09-29

Then you are not she stopped;
be smiled.
''No, am not exactly a bug-man, as
these little fellows have called me, al
though I must plead guilt to slight
learning in that direction. Yet just now
I would joyfully part with the biggest
bugs of my collection if in exchange
might examine your grandfather's pa
pers."
He was so gracefully genial that one
could no more be absurdly dignifed with
him than with the golden robin singing
on the Indian cross.
"Will you walk in?"
st will sit out here instead, if you will |
permit me-"
So Popsey and Wopsey dragged q
chair and then stood motionless and
wonder eyed, listening to the talk OF dis
covery and adventure. They did not
understand it very we'll until the conver-
sation turned to Indian lore. Indians
and bears they could comprehend.
Then the mother, attracted by strange
voice, drew near the door in her melsn-
choly, wavering way.
'"The postmaster's wife thought that
La Sale was an Indian chtef," Charlotte
was saying, 'and she heard OF Father
Marquette, but supposed him the priest
! down at La Paz. Her opinion of him
would not have made him vain. She
does not believe in 'poppery, as she
calls it"
ST met o woman the other day who
| thought herbarium was q bug" re-
marked Mr.. Duncan. Then of course
they laughed.
But everything comes to an end. The
l. II, L,
strangers back to indicate to their sister
that they were perishing of hunger; so
she let the conversation lag in order to
end the call.
"Come tomorrow and see the papers,
| if you like" she said. 'It will be Sat
urday, and shall be at hone to answer
questions"
He thanked her and withdrew, jump
ing over the rail fence which skirted the
| field of rye in order to get a near view OF
the cross, on which not one, but doz-
en-, golden robbins were now holding q
vesper conclave. And the teakettle was
soon singing in the Brantome Kitchen q
song as gay as that of the robins, and
Charlotte was not her usual careful self
as she picked the strawberries for tea.
"Half of them green," said the dis
|
of the bugman."
It certainly was astonishing how much
consulting the Brantome manuscripts
needed. And, too. Mr.. Duncan required
SO much assistance. It was "Miss Bran
tome, will you kindly read this list
while copy it?" or 'Miss Charlotte,
really 1 can't make out whether is an Q
or an j." all the while. Grandfather
Brantome would have begun to inquire
as to marriage settlements and Scotch
pedigrees had he been alive to see those
chestnut locks, innocent of bangs, and
that dark mustache in such dangerous
proximity. It was the old story-two
young heads bending over the same
page. No word of love had passed. All
was on strictly business basis. the cor
rectness of the History of the Missions of
the Northwest the objective aim.
But at last there was no excuse for lin
} gering longer. The hills across the
prairie were red and gold, and robins
had fed, and the grain around the little
} burying ground cut and slowed away.
Charlotte was walking home as usual.
: Far away in the road two moving dots
appeared, which developed into the twins
as they came nearer. Tears were cutting
: briny furrows down their not very clean
/ cheeks. Hysterical sobs alone came
J from their mouths as they tried to speak,
but finally sister intuition eliminated
J these words from the chaos:
} Mother has runned away! She said
} she would if we didn't stop pounding
and we didn't, an she has runnedp'
That poor mother! She had made the
same threat hundred times before, but
had been paci6ed.
} (Which way? Tell me quickly
J thinking of the river, so tireless and SO
cruel.
''She ruined up the railroad track -
No more words were needed. Back oi
the garden was the branch railway from
La Paz. The evening train was nearly
due.
Leaving the twins to toddle after as
} we'll as they could in their exhausted
state, she ran. Ran? She few. The
bright invalid shawl was beacon. Mrs
Brantome sat down upon the tack, idly
playing with some yellow flowers. Char
lotte knew her patient we'll.
J "Mother," she said, sit is late and the
boys are calling and you must feed the
chickens"
The mother shook her head. Persua-
S1On was no porSuador. linen CnarlOtte
: scolded. Alike useless. Then, as las
| resort, she used gentle force.
failure. Sit there and pull those vel
! low flowers to pieces that the poor
) unbalanced woman could do, moth
: ing else. In heavens name wha
was to be- done? Those who had expe
rience knew the strength of the insane
l The train whistled for the crossing nilt
r away, and just then. some guardian
r angel guiding him, Jas. Duncan jumped
: the fence, wet handkerchief in hil
r hand.
l Blessings on the medicine which sub
dued the bugsl It subdued this poo
3 woman in a moment, and he had lifted
D her out of danger before the trail
rushed past.
7 Then he explained. He had bee,
!, copying the inscription on the Indian
3 cross as the boys went screaming by. Fl,
7 gathered enough from their incoheren
8 words to learn what the matter was. Th,
!, chloroform idea was simply an inspira.
l ton.
"Haw can repay your" asked wet
eyed Charlotte, as the party, boys
3 mother, and all were walking back.
"By making over to me Pierre Bran.
? tones manuscript-and his grand
4 daughter. I can never write the histor,
-. without her.
"Well," softly, sin the cause of sol
l ence-perhaps
t Aud this is how it came to pass tina
4 Il. = L ~