The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-02-14
ON A GATE POST.
CHAPTER 1.

his house, he brought out the manuscript and read it to me. Although did no ask permission, yet 1 do not feel that violate his conhdence by giving, .. nearly as l can remember, the content' of the paper which he treasures with such affection: *4}
 The prospect was not cheerful. Iva. riding horse across country whose Loneliness was as deep ss a sigh which bespeaks the long absence of some one Night was coming on and . storm va, gathering its forces. A frightened owl fitted past me, screaming in my face The time of year was when nature hesi. tates whether to continue winter or begin spring. My horse almost shook me of when he stopped and shivered. The owl screamed in my face again. Dead leaves, for a moment would whiri lefore me, and then fall, scattered and torn as though they had, by an ny hand, been swept from their long res.. only to be mocked. "Wha eary, dreary place it is P I musedl Eel as though som ething terrible is g to happen. The air, just before ths sat agitation which must come, seems quivering in its desire to bear the sound of murder, mur- derl As live, wonder is light. Is it possible that shall receive shelter ?"
 Urging my horse forward, ] soon reached a small house, near the summit of desolate peak, overlooking the Arkansaw river. dismounted near the door there was DO fence around the house. My horse looked appeaiinsly at me and without asking permission from any one within, led the animal to a stable close at hand and took of saddle and bridls. As was returning, the storm burst upon the river. When Approached the door, heard a vail. knocked and l heard the vail coming slowly toward me. The door was opened by girl scarcely more than twelve years old. Her face was the picture of despair. She said nothing, but pointed to bed, upon which lay an old man, gasping for breath. Approaching him, I saw that he had but a few moments to live. The girl knelt beside the old man. He tried to put his hand upon her head. Failing, he looked at me and assisted him. He tried to speak, but could not. The girl sobbed frantically. The rain poured down and the storm shook the house.
 He will never get well P she cried. |" My grandpa will die"
 Yes, her grandpa would die. His life had already passed away. The hand lying on her head was growing cold. She looked at him and shrieked.
 What night we spent in that house. The storm howled aad the rain fell until nearly daylight. The girl, who saw was intelligent, with an impressive face, said that her name was Munette Loggemon, and that since her earliest recollection she had lived with the old man who had spent the most of his time, since she had begun to talk. in teaching her.
 " have no relatives" she said in an- swer to question.
 @Any friends 2"
 "No friends"
 "You have neighbors2"
 "None. The nearest house is nearly eight miles away"
 l knew not what to do. Surely the situation was serious. Early at morning, we buried the old man in the yard. As best l could, I made coffin of trough which 1 found in the stable. After the burial, l went out and found enough corn for my horse. left Munette at the grave, on which she had, sobbing bitterly, thrown herself.
 "Where are you going, little siri1" asked when returned, still finding her on the grave. ~"@
 How can go anywhere P she asked. @l have no friends, told you."
 You cannot remain here"
 ~l cannot go away"
 q will not leave you here. You must go with me. My mother has no little girl. She will receive you."
 Stll lying on the grave, and without looking up, she replied:
 "l win go and work for my board"
 "You will not have to work. When l tell my mother of the circumstances under which l found you, she win take you In her arms. Como, get your clothes. It is time we were leaving here. See, the sun is shining beautifully. It is . new day for you." aaa
 Without replying, she arose and turned toward me. Her face, even aside from her grie4, wa& % sad, and her eyes wore . look of such tender appeal that even thossUh che had had r>l~x;S,>. -.a.1l