Evening journal. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1888-1932, 1889-03-05
OLD MRS. DILL.

said "an' I've lived IN INC hiouh1Ll6S SNVA
sence, an it amt the fust time I've been left
the only woman they was in mimi camp
I've lived long es year 'thout SEEM the face
Of no woman ceptin' my own when | looked
in a bit Of lookin' glass. was the fust
woman in Camp Paradise, an l reckon I'll be
the last to leave err
Her many years of life in the 'mountingsn
had told on Mrs. Dill She was bent and
gaunt with a leathery, wrinkled face and
bony. calloused hands Her face and voice
her whole manner-was masculine. The few
graces that old age vouchsafes its chosen ones
had not been given to Mrs. Dill She was
uncouth and repelling in appearance, the re-
suit Of years and years of struggling against
adverse fates amid the demoralizing influences
of mining camp life.
They amt no kind o. roughing it that l
amt used to- she often said. Lord if l
amt roughed it don't know who has. They
amt a gulch in this part O. the mountings
amt been in or a trail amt been over. I've
lived in tents and log cabins and sometimes
under nothin but the trees, for most thirty
year Dill he never once struck it rich in all
that time, and he died poorer n he was when
we come out here from old Missouri.
WED a good farm back there, but Dill he
got the gold mimi craze an we sold out an
come out here with an OK team an put our
farm into a hole in the ground, ez a body
might say, an we've never got it out ag'in.
Talk bout hard times and roughin' it, good
Lord you might say 50 if you'd went through
all haveln
Mr. Dill had been dead six years, leaving
his widow homeless and penniless Some of
the miners in the camp in which old man
Dill died offered to raise a fund to send her
back to her friends if she cared togo, but she
had declined the offer
1--WE lived in the mountings too long to
live any place else now, she said; land, any
how, hain't got no friends to go to. Ill
stay here and rough it out to the end"
She had been among the first corners to
Camp Paradise in the days Of that camps
short lived prosperity. 1t was supposed then
that the camp would become a second Lead
Vile Two or three promising strikes had
been made, and willy Spectators got up a
carefully planned boom solely in their own
interests. In one summer nearly three thou
sand people came to Camp Paradise. Most
Of them went away again before the year
was out.
Old Mrs. Dill came YEARLY up the steep
and narrow track one day, walking slowly
behind an aged and diminutive burro, which
carried her worldly all on its back. She be-
gan her Camp Paradise career as a laundress.
Some Of the miners had known her in other
camps, and a number Of them got together
one day and built her little cabin, and
afterward gave her their rough garments to
wash and mend. They paid her well and her
wants were few
When nearly all the other cabins in the
gllch were deserted, and when all the little
: white tents had been folded up and ls)ne
J away with their owners, Mrs. Dill stayed on.
The men rather liked her for doing so 1t
showed a certain loyalty TO the ''old camp
and faith in it that pleased them, for those
who stayed were firm in the conviction that
there were great treasures hidden away in
the secret depths Of the granite mountain
? towering above the little town.
And they were determined to find those
treasures; so about twenty-five Of them made
common property Of their few worldly pos.
sessions and moved into long low, rambling
house Of logs, that had once been hotel, for
q the winter They did more, they gave old
Mrs Din home with them.
o There was at one end Of the building q
d little room for which the men had no specia
3 use, and this they made very comfortable 70,
7 ''old Mother Din, as many Of them called
/, her, In return Mrs. Dill kept their rough
= garments in order assisted about the cooking
4 and made herself useful in other ways Their,
q was not another woman within twenty-fv,
' miles Of Camp Paradise, but Mrs. Din dix
o not care for that
e I'm used TO it, she said
y The winter set in early in Camp Paradise
: There was snow on the ground in October
and early in November the mountain slope
and gulches were covered under a foot o.
j more Of snow that only the suns OF the com
. ing June would melt
q The men could do little prospecting, AM
nothing toward developing the claims the,
had staked out during the summer The,
spent most Of their time in hunting and visit
ms the adjoining camps, none Of which wer
9 moro prosperous than Camp Paradise. III
men werS idle in all Of them, and the natura
consequence was that they spent much O
a their time in gambling and drinking and i
II the carousals cOmnio2 TO mining camps.
' 1t was a stormy night n December that a
/, the men in Camp Paradise sat around Tia
a great fire Of pine knots IN the broad fireplac
" at one end of the cabin
y Old Mrs. Dill had gone TO her little room O
= the end of the cabin. and the men were en-
le joying the rolicking songs most miners know
,e Some Of them were playing poker, an uI
Ii turned barrel serving for a table. The win
5. blew cold and fierce, and flne, hard dashes O
snow beat against tho little windows on eithe
side the door
As early as S O'Clock some Of thenen bega
- :, talk about turning inn for the night
10 Several Of them were shaking up the blanket
a and skins on their rude hunks when withou
le knock or other sound, the door opened sud
ne lenly and man came in. The men aroun
lie the fireplace turned their faces QUICKLY C
e wards the visitor. and one Of them said:
r "Wel, Jack powney, what In thunde
y brings you clern frou down in Camp Fail
vSw away up 90 old Prosperity on such