The record-union., 1892-07-09

tiS Ndll6y from my SuaIL 10 the Judge
little cabin, as the sun went down, TO see
him bid it good night.
II the day was clear, you were sure to
see him at this hour pacing up and down
the narrow platform in front of his cabin,
every lew minutes stopping to look across
the valley where the glory of the sunset
rested. At last, striking an attitude Ma
poleonlc in the extreme, with head crit
caliy balanced on one side, he would
stand and watch the close of the day
Nodding in familiar way to the sun as
1t dropped behind the mountain, bis
every movement seemed to say, Very
We'll done tonight, old boy-very well
done indeed. l could suggest few i'm
provements, but what's the good? Every
one is satisfied with the show as you give
IL, SO don't change on my account"
When the bright color in the west had
faded, and the stars began to cluster
around Arapaho Peak and blossom far
and wide, he would close his door and
come slowly down the narrow path Lead
Ing from his cabin to the Caribou House,
where he took ali his meals.
The Caribou House was the center OF
social lie In camp; political conventions,
pal1s, church meetings and shooting affairs
mao each IN turn done some little toward
making and keeping the house famous.
About twenty of US lived there; a dozen
=.
cred under its roof three times day to
eat a little and drink great deal. We
mace queer party, thirJy-two men
halhng from almost as many different
parts OF the world-stray bits of wreckage
rom all round the globe-stranded at last
IN this out Of the way mining-camp
nesting IN the heart OF the Rocky Mount
ans, 10000 feet above the sea.
In the morning at the breakfast table,
l1rrta II
dirty windows gave to face and figure a
strange, unreal appearance, they were q
rough lot to look upon. Conversation
was limited, for eacn man was busy with
thoughts of the days chances. A poor
man now, tonight he might be million
aire, and, swapping his fingers, turn his
back TO the camp for ever. This posi-
blllty made our speech and action quick
and nervous, as if begrudging the few
minutes required to consume the neces-
sary amount of food. 1t was at such q
time and surrounded by such men that
the Judge showed to advantage. Leaning
back in his chair in spite of the rush,
somehow he would find time to work in
the thin edge of some good story We
couldn't but stop minute and laugh,
and this laugh seemed to clear the atmos-
phere, let of our surplus stock of nervous
excitement, and establish a good feeling
all round the table. But if the Judge were
entertaining at breakfast, he waxed posi-
lively brilliant in the evening, for it was
then our life in camp took on its brightest
side.
In the long winter nights we all gath
cred around the large fireplace in the
barroom; with chairs tilted back, legs
crossed and bands clasped behind our
heads, we would sit and smoke while the
Judge spun yarns. Many Of them were
old, some were poor, but somehow we
never got tired OF hearing them. The
room was dimly lighted, outside the wind
Wh1Stled, daShlng the snow in passionate
gusts against the window-panes. The
purrlng OF the wood fire, dropping lower
and lower as the evening waned, the
shadows above and around US, all seemed
to draw our little circle closer and closer
together, and the Judges soft voice
seemed just to fit in with the surround
lngS.
He appeared to have such chiId-Hke
belief in all his old stock lies. L suppose
they had developed slowly from small.
perhaps truthful, beginnings, right under
his eye to their present size, and, like a
father, he was blind to weak points in
these children of his Imagination.
he was writing book he once told us
"a book for children-it was to be called
The Three Buckets of Blood, or. the
Bloody Beer-Brewer Of Bolivia" | do
not think he ever finished it; even his
patient friends at the Caribou House mu-
tinted when the first chapter was read to
them. In his stories he was always fig-
uring as hero in some wonderful love
adventure; unfortunately, so it appeared
TO us, the "other fellow" always carried
off the girl; but this fact never seemed to
trouble the Judge-he married them of
without tremor, and allotted each one a
family Of from six to sixteen children.
One night Jim Strickland, miner liv-
ing down at Nederland Camp, made one
of our party around the fire. He listened
with interest and apparent pleasure TO
one of the Judges old love stories: when
it came to an end a disagreeable smile
lighted up his ugly face. Judge" he
broke out, 1.-The last time l heard YOU
spin that yarn you only allowed the
woman had seven children. Pm sure it
was only seven, for [ noticed at the time
it was just the number of kids l had at
home; tonight you say the woman had
nine children"
The Judge turned and looked him
squarely in the face; this style of criti-
tell that story?"
1.-The night Yankee Jim shot the little
chap from Boulder, the one we used to
call the 'Widder's Mite cause he was
the only kid she had.'
THAT was about ten months ago, wasn't
it?' queried the Judge.
YES" answered Strickland, 'sjust
about"
ST you hadn't been a bloomen idiot
you wouldn't have Clipped in with such
simple question. Because you and
your sleepy old camp never move you
mustn't Imagine my friends stand still.
Got letter from this dear girl last week.
Twins born Thursday; both boys She
had decided, long before the little strang-
er arrived, to name it after me, after her
worthless old lover, Billy Woods; didn't
expect two, so only had one name ready,
so she had to split it up-the name, not
the babies-called one Billy, the other
Woods-clever, wasn't it? clever in the
little woman to remember me-nothing
small either in the way she did it. Twins
THAT'S handsome; shows she had her
heart in it, DIDN'T it, boys?''
The next day when Strickland got
back to his own camp, he is said to have
remarked: Boys, if this old camp ever
gets out OF debt and has a surplus, / shall
vote to buy an ornamental liar like Judge
Woods. Why, bless my soul, boys. a
camp amt in working order without
one" OF course local jealousy may have
been largely responsible for this opinion
of the Judge.
One night, on his return from the val
ley, the Judge surprised us with story
OF wonderful scarecrow he had seen at
Jamieson's ranch, just below Nederland
Camp. $50 natural, boys, it not only
kept the crows from taking any more
corn, but one cid bird was so worked up.
he brought back some corn he had car
ried away the day before. Seems hard to
swallow, don't it, boys? That's the way
1t struck me, boys, at first. But, bows.
just as L had about made up my mind
Jameson was lying, a flock of crows
passed over the field, and that galoot
pointed out the very crow; pointed it out
without moments hesitation, in q crowd
of nigh on to a hundred other crows;
that's why l believe his story. No one
could doubt after such evidence as that
The Judge had taken an active mart in