McCook weekly tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 188?-1886, 1884-02-14
YIK KEE.

After father died, some ten years ago,
found that for three years we had
been living on credit Twas IS, strong
and well, but did not know how to
work. In the little back room of the
New York tenement house (by the
way, the landlady seized my clothes for
our rent) considered my future. I had
inherited great faith in relatives from
my father, SO wrote to seven. I re-
ceived six polite notes, telling me to go
TO work, and the following letter:
JoNEsBoRo, COL, Jackson's Ranch
Dear Nell: Pm your cousin Jack. Your
father once gave me money to come west.
I've took up land, got comfortable home,
no style or frills, but good folks to live with
and healthy grub. I've got the best wife
you ever see and seven youngsters. The
city amt no place for friendless girl.
Wife wants you to come. She'll be a
mother to you. Come right off. I'll meet
you at Denver.
Enclosed was cheek sufficient to de-
fray expenses; so 1 started. Denver
was then only large town, and the
depot barn-like structure. l got out
of the cars and stood bewildred among
all the emigrants and their bundles.
Some one touched me On the shoulder
"a roughly dressed, broad shouldered
man, with long blonde beard and big
blue eyes.
care you Nell!" he said.
ayes; and you're Cousin Jack"
SCI knew YOU" he said, as he led the
way, ''by your black clothes an sorrer-
full look, an them big, blue eyes, like
yer fathers as two peas. We'll git the
.shadder outer 'em when we git home.
Yer father was mighty. good man.
Bless yer dear heart, don It let them tears
come. This 'ere's dry country; we
don't waste water.'
Comforting me in his kind, rough
way, he reached his team, a big, green
wagon, drawn by two Withholding
steeds, which 1 afterward knew to be
bronchos. A fat, blonde boy, about II,
held the reins.
ssThat's Ted" said Cousin Jack.
<sTed, this is Miss Nell, your cousin;
give her hug" The fat boy solemnly
obeyed.
After this he seemed to have special
claim on my affections because he met
me first. Jacks wife was. jolly,
plump woman, with drown eyes and
curly hair. She always had baby in
her arms and another at her heels. She
adored Jack. L never knew them to
have quarrel. soon grew to love
the life at the ranch. liked the big,
'half-finished house, its untidyness and
comfort; its pleasant, healthy atmos-
phere. I loved the children, the house.
hold pets; Shep, the sagacious dog;
Thad, the clever cat; the hens and
sheep; the horses, Dolly, Dot and
Daisy, that did the blowing and the mar
Aeting at Denver, twelve miles away,
and were SO gentle and kind we used
to ride them without saddle or bride.
L learned that cattle grew fat on the
edry-looking grass, and gave the best of
milk. l learned to love the broad
plains and the glorious sunsets, and to
watch the distant bands of Indians with
half fear, half interest. 1 helped cous-
in Mary, sewed, cooked, kept the house
and children neat, anu lifted many
burdens from her weary shoulders. We
were SO happy. The children and l
took long walks over the plains, and
Ted and I took many rides on Dolly
and Dot, and in the long winter even
ings told the children stories. Oc-
casionally Harry White came over to
visit us from mis- ranch, five miles
away. He lived with his old mother;
he and Jack were dear friends Harry