Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1891-05-02

ness II reckon you never knowed OF
any one not over bright gittin' out of
his head, ma'am.
81 wouldn't think O them things,
Brice. just go and do your best. and if
there's any good or any right or any
justice, you'll come out ahead; that's
about all we know, but it's enough if
we stick to it
"Ireckon you're right, ma'am. Pears
sometimes though as if anything 'ud be
better than thinkin'."
Happily, it all came to an end one
afternoon. Brice was at work on the
ditch again, preferring the cheerful
companionship of Joel and Bert Fox
to his own thoughts, and Mrs Brandt
was alone in her kitchen. Two shadows
fell across the worn threshold, and
weak, questioning voice brought the
good woman to her door instantly.
Good day to you, ma'am. Is there
a man named Brice livin' nigh here?"
it Was II wonan's voice, woman
with some bits of tawdry ornament
about her. and a round eyed boy cling
ing bashfully to her skirts.
Mrs. Brandt brought them into the
house, urging the stranger to rest bit
and get her breath.
"1hank you, maam; I'd like to be
movin' on. Do you know eff he's we'll
the man Brice? We're his wife an
boy"
The woman told her story presently,
when Mrs. Brandt had induced her to
hn
told it with no unnecessary words, and
her listener made no comment.
my brother come week afore we
was leavin,' an he helped us off an
come as far as Omaha. He'd done we'll
out in Nebrasky, an he give me right
smart O money when he left l was
took sick on the road-I disremember
jest where-an' they left me at a town
with woman named Dixon. She took
care o me- l was out of my head a long
time, an when come to l told 'em to
write to Brice, an they writ, an I
reckon they took the name NV the place
frum the ticket. l was weak like fur a
long spell, an they KEEP writin' an no
word come, an then l recollected about
the town-it was Los Angeles on the
ticket-and then l couldn't think O the
place I'd sent the letters to before, an
the thinkin' Worried me, an the doctor
said l mustn't try. SO jest waited, an
when got to Los Angeles KEEP a askin'
for man named Brandt, till one day
somebody said Brandt, Brandt, pears
to me there's a Brandt away over beyond
the Mission An then it come to me at
oncet that the place I'd writ to was San
Gabriel Mission. An l went there an
they showed me your house. Then a
man give us a lift on his team part o the
way, an we walked the rest 1t didn't
look very fur, but they say mountains
is deceivin, makes every thing pear sort
O small
Mrs. Brandt told Joel about it that
evening.
II just took the two of 'em up to the
shanty, and opened the door, and you'd
cried to see how pleased she was with
everything. And 1 told her to kindle
fire and I'd fetch up bite O supper
And when I'd carried it up an left it,
Just come back and stood on the step
till l saw Brice comm home. He
was walllin' slow, as if his feet was
dead weight, and when he took hold O
the door he stopped a minute. looking
over the valley kind o wishful an hope
less. guess she heard him come, for
she opened the door, and 1 turned
around and come in.
"'Barbara Brandt says I, you've
seen your see. If God wants to look at
that suppose he has right to; nobody
else has. that's certain. ~ Margaret
Collier Graham, in the Argonaus