The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1891-04-24


atop the other in front of them. How
glistened their hair with the village bar
ber's hair oil. How pronounced the creak
of their tight boots as they marched W
the aisle. How brilliant the hue of theil
neckties. How patiently and resignedly
they listened to the sad discourse of ths
minister, knowing it would be the last
they would hear for many months. How
eager the glances they cast up to the
church choir, where sat the girls they
were to marry on their return. How few
returned. How few married the girl Of
that periods choice. How little weighed
the words of the minister year after
ward in the hurry scurry of the Sar
Francisco life Of 1880.
What an innocent, unsophisticated, in
experienced lot were those forty odd
young Argonauts who sat in those pews
| Not one of them then could bake his own
bread, turn a fapiack, re-seat his trousers
or wash his shirt. Not one Of them had
dug even posthole. All had vague
sort of impression that California was a
nutshell of a country and that they would
see each other there frequently land event
ually all return home at OF about the
same time. How little they realized
that one was to go to the northern and
one to the southern mines and one to re-
main in San Francisco, and the three
never to meet again! What glittering
gold mines existed in their brains even
during the preaching Of that sermon!
Holes where the gold was put out by the
shovelful, from which an occasional
bowlder or pebble was picked out and
flung away.
The young Argonaut, church being
| dismissed, took his little stiff. shiny plug
and went home to the last Sunday tea.
And that Sunday night, on seeing her
home from church for the last time, he
was allowed to sit up with her almost as
long as he pleased. The light glimmered
long from the old homestead front parlor
window. The cold north wind without
roared among the leafess sycamores and
crashed the branches together. 1t was a
sad, sad pleasure. The old sofa they sat
upon would be sat upon by them no more
for years. For years? Forever in many
cases Today, old and gray, gaunt and
bent, somewhere in the gulches, sup
north somewhere, hidden away in an
obscure mining camp of the Tuolumne,
Stanislaus or Mokelumne, up in Cariboo
or down in Arizona, still he recollects
that night as dream. And she? Oh,
she dried her eyes and married the stay
of h five of A vsr1
wait forever. And besides, bad reports
after time reached home about him.
He drank. He gambled. He found fair
friends among the senoritas. And, worse
than all, he made no fortune.
By spring most of the Argonauts had
departed With them went the flower
of the village. Their absence made a
big social gap, and that for many day.
The girls they left behind tried for a
time to live on hope, and afterward ''took
up" and made the most Of the younger
generation Of boys.
After many months came the first let
ters from San Francisco, and then speci-
mems of gold dust and gold pieces The
gold dust came in quilts or ip walls,
mixed with black sand.
In the course of two years a few of the
"boys" came struggling back. The first
of these arrivals, remember, walked UP
our main street, wearing on his shout
ders brilliant hued Mexican serape. It
created a sensation. All the small bows
of the village tagged on behind him." a
sort of impromptu guard of honor. The
serape was about all he did bring home.
He talked great deal of gold and
brought specimens, but not in sufficient
quantity to pay all outstanding bills.
The next of the returned was long,
gaunt, yellow case of Chargers fever.
He brought only gloom. Along in 1853
came few Of the more fortunate who
had made a "raise." Two returned and
paid up their creditors in full who had
been by creditors given over. But few
came to remain. They "staid around"
home a few weeks, turned up their noses
at the small prices asked for drinks,
cigars and stews, treated everybody,
grew restless and were off again.
Sometimes on visiting my native viii
lage 1 stand before one of those old
fashioned houses, from whose front door
thirty-four years ago there went forth
for the last time the young Argonaut on
his way TO the ship. There is more
than one such house in the village. The
door is double, the knocker is still upon
it, the window panes are small, the
front gate is the same and up to the
door the same stones lie upon the walk.
But within all are strangers.
Tbefather and mother are past anxious
inquiry of their son. The sisters are
married and live, or have died, elsewhere.
A new generation is all about. They
never heard of him. The great event of
that period, the sailing of that ship for
California, is sometimes recalled by a
few-a few rapidly diminishing. His
name Is all but forgotten. Some have a
dim remembrance of him. In his time
he was an important young man in the
village. He set the fashion IN collars
and the newest style of plugs. 0 fame,
how fieeting! What is generation? A
puff. A few old maids recollect him.
What pity, what shame that we do
all fade as leaf!
The recollections treated in this chapter
are TO me as a commencement and an
ending of the shadows of series of COM
ing events. PRENTICE MILFORD.
Thackeray and the Snowman.
Thsckeray, who lost his mother when
about five years Of age, was taken in
charge OF by his aunt, Mrs. Richie, who
WAS alarmed on finding that her husbands