The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1889-07-06
MADGE.
The Plucky Girl Who Saved the
Red Gulch Stage.

'Click, click, click, cliclz,' went the types
as they were thrown into their respective
boxes by the type settlers in the Daily Cal
lope Office. 1t was early Sunday morning,
and they were almost through with the
nights work. One of the compositors, a
dark haired girl, was particularly deft at
her task; and the nimbleness OF her stained
fingers as, without an error, she rapidly
sorted the letters was a sight worth watch
ing. Though the only lady in the office, and
but child at that, she was as quick and
rapid a worker as any.
The Calliope was one Of the experimental
dailies, that had started in western towns
for booming purposes.
The city would be called mere village
by Eastern visitors, but standing as it did
far out on the plains, amid the foot hills of
the Rockies, it had quite metropolitan ap-
pearancc. After Sle leagues upon leagues
of unbrolen prairie or rolling bluffs and
PERCEPTIONS banks, it really appeared like
center of civilization and despite the ram
bling character of its buildings and the
smallness of its population, its daily paper,
electric lights and water works did not seem
so much out of the way.
AS the fingers of the girl were nearing the
end of their task, voice was heard behind
her. She recognized it as that of Mr.. Fer
rard, the editor He said Miss Madge,
here are three short items wish you would
put in type. Take pains, please, for l will
not have time to look at your work.
The morning paper was nearly ready for
the press and handing her three slips of
manuscript covered with his almost I'M
readable scrawl he left her and went to at
tend to other matters demanding his at
tention.
Il wonder what that can be-" thought the
girl, pulling over the badly-written SEN
fences. 'Oh yes, I see now," and she
quickly put into type:
To-day is the glorious anniversary Of the
esurrection-Easter. The word is sweet with
suggestion. 1t speaks of hope, OF JOY, of a new
life. That our readers may enjoy hope and hap
piness and that new life may come to each
heart is our wish"
1t was short editorial squib. Then she
took up the next one, a news item:
I'VE learn that Ben Haven, the well known
Gtage driver on the Colorado and Kansas line
between here and Red Gulch, has been dis
charged and his place filled by John Horris.
Horris started out on his first trip Friday morn
ing, and will return tomorrow night"
The girl hesitated. She disliked having
the words go forth to the world. They told
of her father being thrown out of employ
ment, and though the editor had not said so,
every body would know that Ben Haven
had ''lost his job on account of his dissi-
patton.
81 must do it. though" she thought, "for
! want to keep my place here now" and
this item, too, was made ready for the press.
The third, and her last work of the night,
had evidently been handed in from the tele-
graph Office. 1t read:
"A terrible blizzard, said to be the worst Of
the season, is raging in Wyoming and Western
Nebraska. 1t is sweeping southwark and will
reach here about noon Sunday. Coming so late
in the season it will find many unprepared and
do much damage"
That was all, and throwing her thin cloak
around her, she left the Office and, through
the chill, gray morning, sought her unat-
tractive home-a frame cabin, perched far
beyond the outskirts Of the town, on the
side of Indian hill, with only the govern
ment stage road between it and the Smoky
river. There was peculiar clearness in
the air and the stars twinkled with a strange
magnetic brightness. She thought little OF
it, however, and before the Easter sun rose
or noisy carrier boys had delivered the
morning Calliope, she was fast asleep, rest
ing from the labors of the night.
"Madge," called her father, six hours