The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1888-07-05
SMANTHY.
Why the Family Take Such Good
Care of Her Now.

The point which I had reached in
the long, sinuous ascent was as high
AS the crests of the range of hills be-
yond the valley to the westward. Daz-
cling shafts of light came straight and
level across the undulating line of
dark-green with which the distant de-
cliyities were covered. and I found my
self in the warm glow of summer
sunset
Three miles away. by the road I had
come, but appearing to lie almost ut
my feet down in the valley of Salt
Creek. was Georgetown. the only
village in Indiana populated by gold
miners. Nor are they miners, in a
strict use of the term, as their labor
consists only of washing the yellow
dust from the beds of sand along the
creek. where, according to one of those
wonderful stories which geologists tell.
it was dropped by a melting glacier
from the far north.
But however its presence may be ac-
counted for, there is very light sprink-
ling of gold dust through the sand
along the "crick" just at this point.
and score or more of slow-moving
men, by close industry and tedious
washing and sitting, continue to main
tain laborious existence. The reck-
less extravaganza and lucky ''finds"
which have been associated with the
richer mining of our Western States are
lacking here, and there is simply. and
without exception, heavy labor with its
meager returns. Even the unkempt
farmer who tends his scraps" along
the rocky hillsides of the surrounding
country has a better opportunity to
wrest competency from the soil than
has the ''gold-digger."
As l stood half way up the ragged
brush-grown hill, the valley below was
in shade. and the windings of the
"crick," from bluff to bluff of its re.
stricted bottoms, appeared plain and
white away to the north. where a jut-
ting promontory closed the view. Agri
culture has made light inroads on the
heavy growth of timber which hides
the angles and ravines of the earth's
warm bosom. Here and there an irreg.
ular "claim," inclosed by rude brush
fence, showed an ugly patch on th'
green mantle.
Il reckin you don't see many likeliel
sections o kentry than that thar
stranger?"
The speaker had come down the hill
unnoticed, as l stood looking at th'
wildlandscape and the beautiful touches
Of color which the sun was laying, witt
lavish generosity, upon the highest o
the dark, uplifted masses opposite me
ut surely is sight worth coming ia
tosee, was my scarcely candid reply
'Yes sir" he continued, taking tn
words for the highest praise; 'whe1
Cajer Pauley an me left Carliny, W
never lowed we'd find sich kentry a
this hyar un. That 'uz nigh ont
twenty-five year ago. an l reckin II
die an be berried in the graveyar
down thar at tho diggins'. That
cajer's corn-patch over wander. an
that smoke risin' up behind them tree
Is from his cabin. / low Smanthy'
gittin' supper"
"ls Samantha Mr.. Pauley's wife?"
"WhoP ., yes, Smanthy-yes, she
Ca]er's wife. l reckon you 'uz neve
IN these parts much, stranger. Ell you
. heered about Smanthy. You see
nz this hyar way with her; she wuzn
IKE Cajer, fer he alluz said he didn'
keer whether the leaves on the trees u
green er blue, eff he could raise era
corn to suit him; an eff the rock
wanted to be big an have mosson 'en
sa little cracks O. water a-tumblii
down over 'em, he lowed it made n
difference to him so they wuzn't in tt
way o worlsin' his Claim.
but, ez / 'uz a-sayin', Smanth
suzn't like Cajer. She 'uz alluz a-tall
IN about the hills a-bein' so purity al
green in the spring o the year. al
sae'd nigh Almost take fit about ii
ae spring o clear like water runni
over the rocks er tricklin' out from I'll
oer the roots o tree. Seemed lii
sae uz sort o weakly, too, an not pc
"a rugged like Cajer's side O the far
oiy. Many time I've seed her
Gown to the snrinr helo61 tham tra