Butte semi-weekly miner. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1886-1890, 1886-12-25

When be overlook his father and delivered
his message tho latter seemed really touched.
Though Indifferent, apparently, whether M
house fell to pieces or not, he was homeadck
outside his own gate, and now was going
away sore hearted at the evident willingness
Of his family to part with him. The unex'
pected attention quite overcame him and he
looked round for something to return IN
acknowledgment, but the fields were bare.
Suddenly he spied by the roadside some
pussy willows with their slvery, fuzzy buds,
and cutting of a branch gave It to the boy,
saying: "Give that to your ma, land tell her
| she's the best woman In Meigs county,"
"Lawl' said Mrs. Danks when the boy burst
in with his branch and message; "your pas
getting silly in his old age. 1dont want such
truck in the house." But after the boy had
! gone she PUT it carefully in water and set 1t
on the kitchen shelf, and several times she
! looked up at it with a look on her face which
Mr.. Danks would scarcely have recognized.
That gentleman's absence made very little
difference with his family, exceptto Capitola
His wife scolded a little less, n the boyR,
who looked upon him very much as another
boy-only one who liked to sit In the same
place too ~long-pursued their works and
sports as usual.
But the Thursday after his leave their out
door fun was cut short by a persistent rain.
How it did pourl Hour after hour, all day
and night. Friday morning dawned upon
sweeping mists of gray, and an angry, boiling
food that crept inch by inch up its yellow
banks, and night closed in ON the same pict-
ure. Saturday morning the sun shone out
bright and clear, but on what a scene Of de-
struction! What had been a river was a
rushing sea, which had blotted out field after
field, and stopped just at their own gate, and
which carried on its heaving surface trees
torn up bodily, great timbers, buildings and
cattle. Toward night a large barn came
house, made a breakwater, round which the
waters whirled, bringing into the harbor thus
formed all manner of wreckage. The boys
watched eagerly, specializing at the amount
of firewood thus laid at their door.
"Hil That's a good one," cried one Of
them, as just at dusk something like a log
appeared around the corner of the barn, bal
anced q moment, as though undecided, and
it was getting too dark to see anything more,
SO they went laughing and scuf11ing to bed.
All night long mother and children slept
4u10Ny IL Guon GI1o uOCSo, iuAAo4 ny tuo Auou
of swift waters. All night long, in the little
harbor the log swayed and turned, now swept
away from the shore, now drawn toward it,
as though reluctant to go.
In the morning, with the whoop and shout,
the boys burst. from the house, but in a
moment were back again with white cheeks
and chattering teeth, and, clinging to their
mother, could utter but one word-"Father."
Yes! Fate had again been too strong for
him. Mr.. banks had conn home.
They took up the poor body, bruised and
eyes of those who knew it with dignity, and
es they bore it across the threshold there fell
the pocket a string of discolored blue
beads.
A little later they knew all there was to
know Of the pitiful story. His fellow work
men had gathered on the wharf Saturday
afternoon after work to watch the freshet. |
One by one they scattered to their homes, up
and down the river, and a neighbor, seeing |
Mr.. banks, called to him to come; but he |
shook his head, saying he was not going home |
till his work was finished. So they left him
there, looking down the river toward his |
home. One hour later the wharf was swept
away. No one knew what had become of
the solitary fgure-save One. And as the |
poor body, without volition of its own was |
guided through flood and darkness to its |
home, who can deny that the spirit-too |
weak to shape its own course-was borne on
infinite pity into the eternal homea-Hester |
Stuart in Chicago Tribune