The morning call., 1891-08-30
A COLORADO
MINERS love.
Rough in Exterior, He Was a Man With
a Brave Heart
How Tom Basset Of the Little Mining Town
Of Silver Arrow Wen Mabel Airing.
ton, the Artists Daughter
Written for THE SUNDAY CALL.

StlccLs, duu tH6 uOtel, or miners DOarQlng
house.
1t lies there in beautiful little valley, and
has only one outlet to the plains.
Sort wo miles from town the valley mar
rows" deep canyon, from whose mouth
comes uashlng mountain stream, shallow
and clear now, but sometimes when cloud
bursts occur in the mountains, rising to a
great height, and like some angry monster,
sweeping away the cabins along its banks.
Upon each side of the town rise huge,
almost perpendicular mountain ridges,
scanned here aud there by miners tunnels.
The stream flows to the eastward, and at
last passes out of the valley and down to
the plains, where it joins the South Platte.
1t was only 4 o'clock, but the daylight
was fading out, for the big red sun was
sinking down back of the high peaks to the
westward. Already in the twilight the red
fires from the smelling furnaces near the
canyon began to glow with deep, ominous
glare, until when darkness should set in
they would almost illuminate the valley.
1t was almost time for the miners to quit
work for the day.
The sun sank lower and lower back of the
peak, and the Smeters glowed with more
intense glare.
At last the tired miners began fiocking
from their work and descending the hillside
to their cabins in the town.
Two among them we will notice. One
was middle-aged, and his bushy hair and
beard was mixed with gray; theg other
young, not yet So Both were tall, broad
shoudered, powerful men.
On reaching town they entered one of the
smaller cabins.
The elder at once went to a small closet
and took therefrOm black bottle. which he
looked at admlringly for a moment and
then raised to his lips. Presently he placed
the bottle on the table, and taking a wash
basin from shelf, filled it with water and
then plunged his face into it, sputtering and
splashlng tie water about like big por-
polse.
Meantime his companion had seated him.
self By the open door, and was looking off
to where the glowing smelterS CLEANED in
the distance.
What's de matter. pard? ?" at last said
the old miner. as he began to make prepara-
tons Tor their evening meal. You look as
though you had gone and lost your pile
BE you sickY' and he pushed the bottle
toward him.
'Nc, Joe. there aint nothing the matter
with me" said the younger man.
y ou're lying, Tom, and you knows it."
sald the oid man, approaching him. Me
and you has been pards a long time, and
any one what Injuries you Injuries me-" he
added, with significant look up the hill-
side, where stood a tiny white cottage,
which formed striking contrast to the
rough cabins.
"'IeIl you what 1t IS" he went on, 81
knowed the moment that are city gal, with
her yellow hair, aud her white face, and her
dainty ways, come here thar would be
trouble, but" and his voice faltered little,
blow me If reckoned that you, Tom Bas-
set, who can lick any man in camp, unless
it be me, would be fool enough to fall in
love with no such one. Why, boy, there
amt no sand in her. She can't fire pistol,
nor ride hoss. nor cook, nor any of them
things a gal orter do. All she's good fur is
to read books and write stories, and make
picters like that sick feller, her father. No
wonder he's sick, never did no work in his
life, just made them picters. He orter go
to work with pick an shovel, as us men
does But he's so weak looking that i
reckon he could get no job though.
snow you just see how this gal has treated
you. she thought you was very nice at fuSt,
like men what she had read of i'll her books,
and now that sneaking mining engineer with
she drops you like chunk OF Stag Women
| is all the same. Have nothing to do with
| them. boy. There amt no woman going as
can allow she ever made a fool of me"
Don't talk thataway," said the young
man. " | suppose she hadn't no use for me
no way. orter knowed better than to think
| she would ever take liking 10 rough tel-
| ler like me-"
He sat in silence for some time, and then
| said Joe, mebby she don't know as loves
l
| she kn0wed it all along. 1t was real kind
of her to ak me up to the house and show me
| all the picters, and try to larn me to read
! though l alnt no good at that. Mebby she
| thought as how she was doing me a good
turn, and when she was gone | would MEM
| Der her, but she never knowed what she was
! truly doing. Course it amt no use expect
| ing she ever would be a-marryiDg me, but
have studied il all out, Joe, and Pm going to
| let her know ali about 1t tonight"
NsArta 60 lrrD ILL.,
the old miner in dubious tone. Don't
| you do 1t, Tom. Now If it was man or a
| bar You was a-going arter I'd bet my pile
| on ye; but woman, no, no; there aint
no telling what they'll make man do.
| Take my advice, boy, aud let her alone"
An hour later Mabel Arlington, the daugh-
| ter of the invalid artist sat before the fire in
| the parlor OF the little white cottage. intent
| ly reading.
Her golden hair hung in one long braid
| down her back, and her plain white dress
faced with light blue made her even more
| fair
Near her sat her father, cate-looking
| English gentleman with fair complexion
and blonde beard He was engaged in look
ing over sketches he had made during the
| day.
As they were thus engaged there was
knock at the door.
Mabel looked up, and remarking. {" 1t
must be rom." went to the door,
She returned in few moments, and after
her, with rather shuffing step aud sheep
ish manner, came Tom.
Evening, sir, he said to Mr.. Arlington,
and then seated himself and remained silent.
Have you been reading the book gave
your" said Mabel, encouragingly.
Yes, Miss Mabel; that Is, tried to, but
L amt much good at reading, you know,
and If it hadn't been for you l couldn't read
at all, he replied.
Come and sit by me and let me see how
you have been getting on said Mabel, as
she plcked'up a reading book.
The young miner seated himself beside
her, and, placing his large forciinger on the
page, slowly spelled out the fable of the fox
and the grapes. When he had finished he
suddenly said: "I reckon that means that
lots OF people wants them things what they
can't have. and when they finds out that it
amt no use wanting them they says they
aint no good. Is that it, Miss Mabel?"
YES"
And lots of folks wants things they can't
nave, ana like them all the more he con-
tinued. Miss Mabel, will you let me tell
you a Story?"
''Yes, Tom.''
During all this time tho artist had been
lnsently examining his sketches. and paid
no attention to what had been going on, and
now 1or some reason he left the room. This
seemed to reassure Tom, and he continued:
once upon time, as the Story-bOoks
say, there was man. He wasn't good
,oVhitnS' "aiu Nc was u r0ugn leiler, ana
nannt no education-couidu't read nor
nothing. He was raised away up in the
mountains, and never seen nothing but the
big peaks and the canyons. and the mines
and them things. He didn't know where he
came from, for he had always lived there
ever since he could remember; but the
miners said his folks came from the city
somewhar and died and left him there
We'll, this here child growed up to be a
man, all In his ignorance; but he wanted to
be smart and know things, and after long
while there comes to the diggngs where he
worked woman. Size was so different
from the ones he had known afore. She
was small and not very strong, L reckon.
Somehow she liked this here big rough
man, and she tried to lsrn him things. And
he did his best and larned some, but he
wasn't much good.
Afore he saw this woman he was bad
feller-used to get drunk and get into fights
and slch thisasI. In ,..ad i,os l,n