The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1884-02-07

| ten or revealed. y servant OF the
faith, look we'll! It is the aristocracy
of nature upon which you gaze. Sub
lime it is in the reposeful grandeur of
its Indifference to commerce, agricul-
ture, or the petty avenues of human
thrift Locked in the Golfers of the
rocks are the wages Of it's early days
Of labor. Stern and forbidding is the
giant land, sad and unsocial; but rich
in the abundance of that which rem
ders even man unsocial, stern and for
bidding.
At the foot of the mountain the
team halts, where the water sinks and
the dry valley begins. It is but short
work for Big Jack Small to draw out
the bow pins, release his cattle, and
drop his eight yokes in. a line, with
the bright heavy chains linking them
together in the gravel and dust.
Meantime, Mr.. Signal arrives in
camp with each hand full Of frag-
ments Of vari-colored stone, he having
tired his wits at prospecting for sill
yer.
"Hullo, Parson! Hev you struck it
rich?" inquired Big Jack, as he let
down the grub-box and cooking uten-
sils from the wagon top to Gov Nye.
That's bad beginning, Parson"
"Why so, Mr.. Small?''
"'Cause, said Jack, jumping down
from the wagon and coming up to
take look at the rocks in the parson' s
hands" cause ef you ever git quartz
on the brain, you're goner! That
ar meetin' house in Pennsylvania
put Grape on the door knob-shore
an 'dvertiz fer a new parson. But
yell not git quartz on the brain-not
much = s'long's yer don't find no
better stones than these yere,'' said he
after examining the collection.
''Ah! | was merely guessing at the
stones to amuse myself. Are they
not quartz fragments?"
mo Stree" said Jack, as, driving
his axe into pine log, he made the
wood fly in splits and splinters-''not
much. Them's iron-stained porphyry,
greensboro, black trap, an white car
b'nates of lime. Hold on till we git
across the valley an git a-goin' up the
next mountain, n I'll show yer some
good quartz. Some bully hoat-rock
over thar, but nobody haint found no
mine yit-never will, [ reckon; I've
hunted for the derned thing twenty
times. Yere, Gov, git a bucket o wa
water. Parson, dye feel wolfsh P"
added Mr.. Small, after he had his fire
lighted and was proceeding culinarily.
"Wolfshw exclaimed Mr.. Signal,
with some surprise.
"Yes-hungry," explained Jack, as
he sawed with a knife at the tough
rind of a side of bacon, cutting down
one fat slice after the other upon the
lid Of the grub box near the fire.
"Not unusually So"
"Haint ct nothin' sence mornin',
hev yeP'
mo; not since early morning"
"Must do better'n thatI' said Jack.
putting the frying-p pan upon the fire.
II usually eat but little, for fear of
eating too much"
"Wen, s'pose yer heave away them
rocks, an run this fryin'-pan-jest fer
appertite. Noohin' like facin' an ine-
my, ef yer want to git over bein'
afraid Of him.
Mr.. Signal Immediately complied,
and, squatting by the fire, poised the
frying-pan upon the uneven heap of
burning sticks in his first lesson at
camp life.
II don't allow yer kin eat much this
evenin', as we've only Travelled half a
day, but to-morrer we've got to cross
the valley through the alkali dust, an
make long drive. Git lot of that
alkali into ye, an you'll banker after
fat baconr'
"Ah?" said Mr.. Signal, carefully
balancing the pan on the fire.
"Yes, sir"-with great emphasis on
the sir. "Alkali an fat bacon goes
together like a match yoke o leaders.
Does there seem to be any Goals anna
kin in that fire, Parson?"
"The wood seems to burn; l infer
there will be Goals"
"Inferrin' won't do, Parson! We've
got to hev 'em, cause I must bake
this bread after supper, for to-morrer
Allus keep one bakin' ahead" ejacu-
lated Mr.. Small, as he finished knead-
ing bread in the pan, and quickly
grasped the axe, p1 oceeding to break
up some more wood. "Yer see, Par
son, bull-puncher hes to be up to
little Of every sort O. work, in the
mountains. Gov, you look out fer
that coffee pot, while [ put this wood
on the fire. Drink coffee, par
son? No? Well, then, make yer
some tea in an empty oyster can.
Haint got only one pot fer tea an
coffee"
mo, Mr.. Small, do not make any
trouble for me in that way. [ drink
water at the evening meal"
"All right, then; this hash is ready
fer bizness."
The Reverend Mr.. Signal, sitting
cross-legged on the ground, received
the tin plate and rusty steel knife and
fork into his lap from the hand Of
Mr.. Small, and then Mr.. Small sat
down cross-legged opposite him, with
the hard loaf of yellow yeast-powder
bread. and the sizzling frying-pan
between them, surrounded by small
cotton sacks, containing respectively
salt, pepper, and sugar,
Now, Parson," said Mr.. Small,
pitch in!'
Zone moment, Mr.. Small" said the
parson, removing the hat from his
own head, will you not permit me to
ask the blessing Of God upon this fru-
gal repast?"
"Certainlyr' assented Mr.. Small,
snatching off his hat, and slapping it
on the ground beside him. Then hap
pening to note quickly the Indian sit
ting listlessly ON the other side Of the
fire, he said: "Yere, you Injin, take
off yer hat; quick"
"Yash-heap take 'em off, said the
obeying Indian.
Now, Parson, roll on!''