Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1889-12-27
Christmas at Camp Nogood.


she tried to speak cheerfully, there
was wailing undertone of grief,
almost of despair, in the tone OF her
voice.
I'm afraid l can't, Nell. Pears
like I'm almost gone" and the answer
came huskily from the lips Of sick
man stretched in the bottom of long
emigrant wagon, drawn by pair of
patient mules, who were driven over
the trail by the woman. IF there
was only a parson to say a bit OF
prayer, Nell, seems like | could go
more comfortable, fur I've been
rough man, not like the quiet hum
body / was when l left you, wife. But
you see theirs nobody but men at
Camp Nogood; hain't seen a pet
ticut in nigh two year, jest think o.
that, Nell, and you'll never know how
perfectly lovely you an the kids
looked to me when you stepped of
the train, an now I've got ter go an
leave ye,n and sharp spasm OF pain
convulsed the white face.
"Oh father, don't talk of dying"
and the wife turned her head away
as the hot tears trickled down her
cheeks. "We'll soon be at the camp,
and then, may be, something can be
done for you"
Say, poppy, poppy, l see a house
away off yender,' and little boy OF
eight eagerly strained his eyes over
the long stretch of road before them
to the spot where the faint outline OF
a rude shanty was visible in the dis
tance.
'That's Tim Conways cabin, half
mile from the camp" said the sick
man, feebly, "but | shan't live to get
there, fur it's five miles away an
night comm on"
mo, no, Bradley, it's real light yet.
If yeu can stand it to ride so far may
be we can make it. Don't give up,
father, don't, now," and gleam of
hope mingled with her tears at the
welcome thought that human habl-
tation was in sight, and better still,
that the camp, the objective point OF
their journey, was almost in sight
also.
"Drive on, Nell, I'll try an bear it. d"
A gray shadow was stealing over the
sick mans face already, but he did
not know it, he only knew that a cold
hand was touching at his heart, chill
ing him through and through. de
thought it was the wind which blew
down the trail with a shivering sug-
gestion of winter, but it was stronger
breath than that Of Boreas which
was freezing his life-blood and stop
ping its free current through his
veins.
The mules plodded along their way
and the children watched the little
speck in the distance as it came stead
ily nearer with childish interest Be
sides the boy of eight, there was
little girl of five, and the baby, Nell,
aged three, so wrapped in shawls
that she looked more like a mummy
than a living child, and the mothers
tears chilled on her cheeks as she
drove the mules forward with the
hope that succor might be near. 1t
was not an enviable situation.
The husband two years before had
started away from a comfortable
home in Illinois, imbued with the
spirit of adventure and with long
ing for wealth which the plodding
farm life did not satisfy. A neighbor
had come home from the mountains
with marvellous tales of wealth TO be
acquired in the mines, and after sell
ing the farm and dividing the pro
ceeds with his wife for her support
while he was gone, he had taken his
share and gone back with his com
rade.
His claim had not yet panned out
as he had hoped, but not feeling will
ing to abandon his enterprise, he had
sent for his wife and children to come
out to him, promising TO meet them
at Denver.
Quite unknown to him an insidious
disease had been creeping upon him
for the past year, weakening him
slowly but surely, and his wife was
shocked when she saw his drawn and
altered face when he met her at the
train, and when they were about ten
miles from the city he was again
taken with an acute attack OF his
disease. and the affrighted wife had
pursued the journey which had been
commenced so hopefully, for she was
a cheerful little body, and had formed
many wifely plans for the new noun
tain home, which was ending with
heart-sickness and dread
There had been quite an excitement
in the camp when the letter had come
announcing. that the little woman
and her children were on the way.
.Yer ter quit yer swearin, Bill
Nevins, when theresa womint round,
said Dick Gowdy. ''Sakes, hain't
seen a womint in SO long ! most for
got how they look"
Some O. You fellers d better shave
up bit er she'll be skeered at the
sight of such Hottentots." Burt Ma
comber was the dandy of the camp,