Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1889-12-25

1OuHudnCo anu comparative content. so
the farmers who logged in on or jolted
behind their heavy-hoofed horses ad-
mitted the leading statement with q
supremacy satisfied conviction that 9th.
or towns were not booming as was Bub-
BILE and an absolute Indifference to the
probability of it's being Christmas Eve
elsewhere. A delicious day it was, too,
although not the typical winter, one
which imagination invariably associates
with the dear old feast. There was no
snow; the air was crisp, keen in it's
frosty sweetness, exhilarating as
wine; by sky of subdued yet intense
blue was the billowing prairie domed
and bounded; against that serene and
perfect background fields of rifled but
unriven corn flung out their battered,
tawny banners; the winding. brownish
roads rang like steel to every passing
sound; along those desolate country
ways the sumac shrank in blasted
beauty, and skeleton sunf1owers reared
alott the bare, brown hearts from which
had fallen long ago the disks of gold.
But the old man, who, mounted on the
front seat OF ponderous, creaking farm
wagon, drove over the hill and down the
one new, ugly, busting street which
boosted the business, the barter and the
commercial enterprise of Bubble,
thought not at all of his surroundings,
not even of the day. He did not stop at
either general store, at the tin-shop, the
saloon or the drug store. With an o.
casional nod to familiar faces he steered
his team straight down the street, past
the pretentious hotel, the gaping livery
barn, the big, bleak undergrad, and
drew up beside the platform of the rail-
road depot.
''Whoa-ah, thar! Train most due,
Tom? Hope it's. Olive sort of niece
aboard-me cousin Moike's child. Did
ye know that?'
The station agents assistant smiled
back at him. Did he know that? Who
did not know that old Rafferty, had
some months ago sent money to Ireland
to bring out a young relative of his A
queer character, old Rafferty,. Seven
teen years of his life had been passed
as a sailor. He claimed to be one of
the survivors of the battle between the
Merrimac and the umberland, and that
It was he who fired the last shot on
BOARD the latter vessel, when it, with
;olors still bravely flying, sunk beneath
the waves. Dearly did he love to tell of
The affair, particularly of the part which
concerned himself, of the three hours
spent under the water before rescue was
effected. At the close of the war he
took up "a claim" in Nebraska, and by
slow degrees, in loneliness and priva-
tion, had accumulated not little wealth.
Out of perilousness he had seen peace
come. A friendly and familiar figure
was he to all. Somehow people always
smiled at old Rafferty-cordially, too.
There was comical kind of fascination
in the face visible between the shabby
felt hat and the huge comforter of
purple, red and yellow yarn-a shrewd,
sallow old face with grizzled beard,
bushy brows and youthfully alert, bright
eyes Then his accent was delightful,
his own broad and hearty brogue being
favored with Western infections wholly
foreign to it.
con time, SIR
A whistle-another. A puff of smoke
distant roar; vibration of the rails;
shrek of steam; glare of light
then the train was laundering up-had
paused, painting, snorting, disgorging.
A girl stepped out and down on the
platform.
eli, thar" called old Rafferty,. She
turned at the sound of his voice, went
towards him.
You're Hanna?''
"Yis, sor."