Lyon County times. [volume] (Silver City, Nev.) 1874-1907, 1891-04-04
Hold on for your Hfc!"

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A few miles from where the Sender
drops its ttrbid water into the Missis-
Gppi it passes through region which
has all the elements of the picturesque.
A few hundred yards from the eastern
bank there is range Of mighty bluffs,
sparsely clothed with oak and cedar, and
cleft in one place where road winds
down from the highlands beyond to cross
q bridge, rustic enough, but heavy and
strong to Withstand the spring freshets.
A quarter of mile above the bridge a
dam has been built to turn the water
into the wheels Of an old mill which,
lazily turning. grinds out its dole Of
-four and yellow meal.
On this bank Of the river are also scat
tered few humble dwellings, each with
its garden patch, and in the summer its
dooryard filled with hollyhocks, enor-
nous sunhowers and an underground of
annals which grow with riotous luxu-
rance in the rich black soil.
On the western bank there is stretch
Of bottom land two miles wide, held by
nature as a private park. Here are
gently swelling mounds with just enough
trees, bright little ponds fringed with
purple iris, and glades SO blue with wild
violets in their season that they look like
. piece ofthe sky.
1t is in late summer and autumn, how
ever, that the scene is at its best, for
then cardinal flowers, lobelia, wild as
ters, goldenrod and many other splen-
did blossoms make u mosaic of color
that would delight the soul of an artist.
If one could ever be found willing to face
mosquitoes and malaria long enough to
transfer hint Of its beauty to his can
vas: for nature is jealous of her choicest
possessions, and places an angel with a
flaming sword at the gate Of all earthly
edens.
Every spring at the breaking up of the
ice there is rise, as the natives call it.
and for two or three weeks this valley is
submerged: then the water subsidies.
leaving an alluvial deposit rich as that
on the banks OF the Nile. and on it is held
q carnival of flowers. malaria fever and
death.
On wild March night when the flood
was at its height woman came down
the road and stood upon the bridge. The
moon was full, and although stormy
clouds were scurryiny across the sky she
shone out now and then and lighted up
the weird scene and the face Of the fig
ure leaning upon the rail of the bridge
and looking down mt the rushing food.
This is what the moon saw and heard.
A girl of 20 years, perhaps, withS noble.
womanly form and u face not pretty
with any mere sensual beauty of color
and dimples and curves, but one which
seemed to have had q too early acquaint-
ance with the hard problem of life-and
yet beautiful face, with its broad, white
forehead, dark. level brows and sensitive
mouth.
A large gray shawl was thrown over
her head and wrapped about her form,
and she seemed to be otherwise comfort
ably clad in plain dark garments.
II should not mind being down there,
she was saying to herself, although
haven't the least notion of jumping in.
There isn't much to live for. Ever since
can remember it has been just the
same-the long cold winters going to
that mean little school through the snow
and sitting among the rest with my feet
freezing; and they disgust me so, al
though there is no reason why they
should. am no different from the rest,
only feel difference. Then comes the
freshet, and after that fever and ague
and typhoid and hot, wretched nights
with millions Of mosquitoes.
IL wonder how it would feel to be
among the drift? Ishould soon be down
to the mouth of the Sender. and there
are always men and boys padding
around there in skiffs and dugouts.
suppose that they would find me and
hook me ont with their graphing irons.
II shouldn't look pretty at all. When
Clara Grantley died how beautiful she
was in her shroud Of white lace! And
there were flowers on her breast and in
her hands and they kept her three days.
l wonder how they would dress mel
That isif they gotme out of the water soon
enough to dress me at all. l suppose 1t
would be just cambria, and they couldn't
keep me; there is no room. When people
are poor and live in two roolned cabins
they have to make haste to bury their
dead.
II have no notion Of jumping in, but
whatif Ishould happen to fall in wouldi it
matter much? Poor mother! ] know