The weekly messenger. [volume] (St. Martinsville [i.e. St. Martinville] La.) 1886-1948, 1890-11-22
THE BESSIE MINE.
BY LAURA Il. MARSH.

Agnes Hale stood in the entrance O,
her cabin home and looked up at the
everlasting hills" which crowded like
Jailers around her, and something dia.
mond-bright gathered in either eye, and,
strangely enough, obscured with its
shining all the mountain scene.
a tall, notwithstanding man leaned
impatiently against the outside wall.
=" can't see, Agnes, why you must
always throw cold water on every enter
prise of mine which happens to carry us
beyond the Maine State line"
1T surely has not been cold water.
Frank, only tears" the wife replied
with pitiful smile.
well, as to that, it is a proverba!
TACT that a man would prefer a hose
turned on him any day thau a crying
woman"
sob, Frank. don't speak so! You
don't know how dreadful this life is to
me! If only my mother or one of nv
sisters were near; but only Bessie and
me all the day long. Aud Bessie isn't
well, Frank"
Il hope you don't expect to have all
your relations tagging at your heels
wherever you go. Now, Agnes, do
make up your mind that some privations
must be endured in new country. I
can't, for the life of me, see what great
dlscomiorts you have here; but, as for
me, L should have been hampered by
'two-up Eastern notions every time /
stayed in your glorfied New England. >"
But we were 80 happy there, Frank
our first home, where baby was born,
and where everything, from the mint
growing by the kitchen-door to the
swinging of the garden gate, had its as
soclatlons. Why, Frank, l think even
OF my splendid tlour-box, back there. and
OF the cunning little cupboard you made
Tor me over the kitchen sink" And the
SAD, little woman turned her eyes, with
the PARKWAY, hOme-sick gaze of Priscilla.
back to the vine-wreathed home. the vii
lage streets, and to the mother left be-
hind.
And, as for me-" the man returned.
81 think of that dirty, smoky blacksmith
shop where I've hammered away for the
last ten years, and no prospect of change
until took my voyage across the Styx."
Il think OF that, too; but, oh, Frank.
remember the row of big naples out
side the door--their leaves must be turn
ing by now-and can see YOU at Your
work, and remember how used to think
no one ever could be so handsome as nv
blacksmith singing over his anvil"
The man laughed then.
Agnes, | verify believe this fever to
60 back has put you out of your head"
lie drew step nearer and put strong
arm down around her slender waist. at
the same time singing, in rich baritone,
IA snatch of an old song:
Some time I'll take you back, Kathleen.
To where your heart will feel no pain;
And when the fields are fresh and green.
Ill take you to your home again"
She sighed, and shook her head.
Nothing can over be fresh and green
up here among the rocks. The freshness
Is even going from Bessie's cheeks. O,
Frank, try not to be home sick, but it
will always keep hurting me, like my
tooth"
She turned hurriedly away with her
broom to prevent a burst of tears.
well, now, Aggie. girl, do try and
1850 O"N iittAC AOh-Ci, Tic DcSSlp
mine, up there on the hill, will pan out
to such a degree that-talk of green
tields'-well just naturally be in clover
up to our ear-tops. You'll 90 back to
see the folks, with diamonds hanging
all around you, like a South Sea Island
princess or the beli-wether of the Ute
tribe"
Agnes Hale smiled patiently, for she
loved the enthusiastic miner, and really
meant to do her part in this new enter
prise. But the time was growing into
the second year now, when the Bessie"
had promised these things, and still she
kept her treasures whatever they might
be-hugged close to the bosom of her
Mother Earth, only now and then drop
ping CLINT of gold in the vein to urge
on the toiling miner.
More times than she could count, Mrs.