Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1886-03-25

III cAHdclcr anu appearance.
Each might have m owed, and probably
did, in different grade of life in the
Old Country: but so small a matter as
one being born a gentleman and an
other common laborer was here of no
account. for eold-digger's career
levels all such distinction. Their great
boards made the ir faces so many dis
tlnct puzzles. physiognomically: but
there was that about their appearance.
action and conversation which in some
measure served as an index to their
several characters. One was known
as Gentleman George. The nickname
conveyed no satire, and none was in
tended when it was bestowed Cen
tleman George toGs gentleman of
good breeding handsome fellow
enough, with laughing blue eyes and
the strength of Hercules. Opposite
60 him. squatting upon his blanket, was
Cornish Tom. He had been a gold
algger Tor twenty years, and had mined
IN California, New South Wales, Vic
torIa and New Zealand. He might
nave made a fortune a dozen times
over. for he had had fully that number
OF chances. But the careless fellow
had never taken the gold tide at its
flood
There was no rest for the sole of
Cornish Toms foot. No sooner did he
hear of new rush" than he caught
the fever and was off to it. Many
were the rich claims he abandoned. to
be among the first on new gold field
Hundreds and thousands of miles of
bush and plain had he covered on
foot, in the blithest of spirits, to dis
cover more often than not. that he had
been following a will-o'-the wisp. Yet
he was always hopeful, always SAN
guine. Free-handed, Woodworking
and restless, he was the type of class
which will be easily recognized by
those who are acquainted with life on
the gold-felds. The third OF the party
was young man remarkable chiefly
for his reticence and furious love of
hard work He boarded his gold like
a miser. The very opposite of Cornish
Tom, who flung his money about with
utter recklessness, Dick Driver spent
never a shilling to waste; and was so
consistently steady and saving that he
frequently brought upon himself the
contempt of his comrades. The fourth
of the party was William Fairfield.
Yes; maddened by what he had wit
messed on that fatal Christmas night,
William Fairfield, with as little delay
as possible. had signed away his farm
to Stephen Winkworth. He wrote but
q few words to Laura. They were
these:
Il was outside your house last night
and saw ALL leave you with grief
at my heart which time can never re-
move. May your future be happier
than that see before NE. Farewell"
And, without waiting for explanation
or reply, he travelled hastily to Ply
mouth. and took passage in n ship
about to sail for New Zealand. Com
monplace reading this; but life, for the
most part. is made up of common
places, and ordinary events require
but ordinary language to express them.
As he sat by tue miserable fire on
this cold and bitter night. his thoughts
naturally-for death stared him in the
face-again and again travelled back to
his last Christmas Eve ut Warleyeombe.
Indeed. he was forever dwelling on
the fatal time. He would lie awake,
night after night. wandering through
the maze of the past. Even in the
midst of his work the memory of some
small incident which had given him
pleasure would rise in reprOach
~ ltIEiSS "OuIl W OL-
der what she was doing at the moment
of his thought; and he would set his
wounds bleeding by recalling her face,
so innocently beautiful, so sweet to
gaze upon, so fair, so false. He en-
couraged these memories, though he
extracted from them nothing but the
most exquisite misery.
One maddening doubt continually
haunted him. Had he been rash in
Judging Laura? No, he would indig-
nantly reply; how was it possible he
could have been mistaken? Had not
his own eyes been witness of her faith
lessness? But still he wandered back
to the theme. and still the doubt re-
manned.
Whew!" whistled Gentleman
George, at the subsistence of a great
blast of wind which shook the tent per-
ilously; Il hope we shall not be blown
away We're in pretty pickle as it
is, but that would make it ten times
worse. Just take peep out-of-doors,
Willy. and see what it looks like"
Willy = the only name by which
William Fairfield was known-went to
the door and cautiously opened it.
holding it fast. in fear that it might be
blown out of his hand, let in a gust of
wind, that raised the dying embers of
of the fire into a deceitful blaze. and
caused his mates to shout to him to
close the door, Stepping out quickly,
and closing the door behind him, Will
liam, with his keen sight, strove to
pierce the darkness. In truth, it was
bitter night. A heavy wind was driv-
ing the snow before it tiercely. The
clouds hung black and thick in the
Tho HunTS
which hemmed in the little band of
NIT, and the fiving drift, blowing into
Williams face, almost blinded him.
Suddenly William made step forward
in the darkness. Wiping his eyes clear
of the snow. and shading them with his
hand, he peered before him intently.
in search of some familiar object
What he sought did not meet his gaze,
and hastily stepping into the tent, he
fastened the door. and resumed his
seat.
"Wella" asked Gentleman George.
for the disturbed expression on Will
Jams features invited inquiry.
did you see the fork this after
noon?" William abruptly asked.
His mates turned their eyes upon
him.
yes" was the reply.
The fork was a tree with a qusintly
formed limb branching out of it, which
stood about hundred yards from the
tent.
..Are you sure you are not mis-
takena'
Certain"
..Well, it has either been blown
AWAY or the snow has covered it. IL it