The Press., 1889-01-17
THE BLIZZARD.
THE APPARIrION.

mantle occupation Of mixing mortar with 8 hoe. He was not accustomed to such work, but man who sets out to carve a fortune for himself on the plains of Dako- ta has to do many things that he has not been accustomed to do, or let them go un done. The stuff he was mixing could hardly be called mortar in the plasterer's sense of the term, for lime and many of the other necessary components were lack ing. The mixture was merely mud, but the pioneers thought it would do for the purpose. As Brent worked at the mud, hls partner, George Wentworth, was in the bush near by cutting sticks with which, in conJunction with the mud, they intend ed to build the chimney of the cabin they had just completed.
 The bending over was very tiring, and John strengthened himself up with sigh, to rest for moment. An astonishing sight met his eyes. So astonishing was it that he rubbed the moisture from them and looked agaln. A skeleton sat on a stump looking at him, if the eyeless sock cts can be said to look, and on the fallen log beside the stump sat secoLd skeleton with It's skull resting in it's bony hands, an attitude that reminded him oddly of his friend Wentworth.
 "Hello!'' cried Brent, when he had somewhat recovered from his surprise, "Who are you?'',
 II am your own skeleton, John," an- swered the apparition, "don't you know me?"
 Can't say that ever had the pleasure feeling the bone of his arm, he continued ''And now that do see you don't believe in you. My skeleton IS in it's place all right enough"
 "Well, perhaps I am hardly justified in saying that I am your actual skeleton. But you know queer things happen on the plains. Perhaps you have seen mirage since you came out? Yes. Well, am what you may call a mirage of your real skeleton. Understand?''
 "Yes, think do. But this is so un- usual, don't you know, that I hardly say, would you have any objection to my calling my friend Wentworth ?"
 Y haven't. Perhaps his own skeleton here would like to have talk with him, y then, turning to the other spector the frst said <: "Say, George, how is that? Do you want to see your"
 The other skeleton, without looking up, merely shook his skull in solemn way, and then the first turned to John and said
 "No, he doesn't seem to care about hav- ing your friend here. He's very reticent fellow, George is, and don't like crowd. ''
 "Yes, I know he is." "I mean his skeleton. could hardly get him to comeat all.
 "Well, is there anything particular that you want to say to me? l presume you did not take all this trouble for nothing"
 "No. I wanted to know if you realized what you were mixing with that mortar ?''
  that ought to be in it that are not in it. We can't get any lime out here, you know. ' "Do you know what you are mixing in the place of lime ?"
 "Yes. Sand and water, and all the clay I can get, which isn't much. Idoh't know of anything else.''
 "Well, there as something else, and a very important ingredient, too. You are mixing your own life with that mud"
 '..How, can that be?" cried the young man. At that moment he heard his palt. ner approaching. "George," he shouted, 'do you see any thing on that stump?" ~.--t 1 Wentworth looked with astonishment al his partner and then at the stump.
 ''I see the stump he said. | As John himself looked at the stump he noticed that the two figures had become very dim, and as he gazed they entirely disappeared. 1 You're sure you noticed nothing ?''
 "Nothing unusual. Whats the matter with you, John ? Not going to have re turn of the fever, hope"
 'I don't know. Hope not. I think my heads not quite all right yet" Then he told his comrade what he thought he had seen.
 '"The ghost wasn't far wrong," saii Wentworth as he seated himself on the log from which his spectre had just disap peared.
 "The warning imagine was allegorical We are mixing our lives. up with that mud and building it into the shanty and vast ing it on these plains.
 Don't do that, George" cried his com panion sharply.
 "What, don't my sentiments suit you ?
 "I don't mean the sentiments, but tho attitude. Don't sit with your head in you hands. That's exactly the way your skel trouble comes. And about the sentiments as you call them. Whats the use of them
 "What's the use of anything, for tha matter ?"
 "There you go again. Who wanted te come out here ?" I'm sure I was not wilc for it. It was your idea. Ear from tn, maddening crowd,' and all that sort O thing. Now I'm sure we're far enough, i that's any consolation. And yet you ar, not satisfied: Keep up your head; I ir sist on that"
 ''That wasn't in the articles of agree ment, John."
 "Well, it's in from now on. But nov that we are here, what's the matter witl this sort of life? It's what you expected isn't it?"
 'I suppose so.''
 ''You can't expect Piccadilly out here, you know. If you yearn for ehe llmitlesl plain, you can't have the limited Piccadilly too" .
 ''Oh, don't know. William Black had Green Pastures and Piccadilly.' We've got the green pastures-miles of them Perhaps we shall have our Piccadilly wher we make our fortunes at sheep raising.''
 "Well, this sort of talk will not build the chimney. Do you think you have sticks enough ?"
 "Yes. Do you think you have mortal enough?"
 "Yes."
 ''All right. Let's combine 'em."
 And they did. The sticks were laid il the form of a hollow square and plastere6 inside and out with the mud.