Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1892-02-27
A SELF MADE MAN.
Cont, ued from Second pace


he forbore to proclaim his origin, but
rather from "A rough sense of humor, and
keen, if slightly malicious, enjoyment of
the situation. 1t seemed to him so good
a joke, this riding over Old World tradi-
tons on the wave of financial success.
Mrs. Beverley, feeling that her first
venture had been a failure, changed
her subject and talked to him of
western scenes and life, the stirring
romance of mining camps and the
homely experiences of the frontier.
where civilization doffs her hat to nature
and rough humanity. Her knowledge.
CLEANED from books, was theoretical
and by no means accurate. but such as
it was it sufficed to put Anthony ON IA
miliar ground and make him forget
himself. The subject interested him:
he was versed III every detail and sat
urated with information and experience.
SO that he forgot to be shy or bold-his
two methods IN dealing with women
ana talked wei and cleverly, rising at
times TO a rude eloqueuce of description
which delighted not only Mary. but also
the rest of the company, who had grad
ually ceased their own desultory talk
and gathered near to listen.
He was led on gradually to speak of
himself and of his own adventures, and
before he realized it was telling them
the story of the Prairie Dog mine. He
told him of his luckless prospecting, his
long failure and his determination to
abandon so bootless an enterprise. in
spite of the instinct which urged him
to persistence. With quaint hurlor he
described his own chagrin, and the com
bat OF the EillTutian champions of sense
and instinct, tie result of which had al
tered all his future.
Then he told them of the mishap to
his broncho. and of the orange wild
canyon to the discovery of which it had
led him. He described the aspect of the
place, its dark pine and redwood trees.
its masses of gray rocks, its snow fed
pool, near which stood the rough slab
hut which was once the home and the
prison of an pItcast from humanity.
As well as he was able he made them
see the forlorn habitation and feel the
solitude of the r.ace, the awful pathetic
loneliness of IT, arctched creature. suf
ferlng day afte' day. week after week.
without a human hand to aid him, a
human voice to peak IA word of cheer.
The languag III which the tale was
told was rough ard simple, almost pro-
fame at times, bn. it did not CRATE on the
listeners, nor revolt them, us it would
have done had the theme been different
1t seemed the natural setting of the
Srp II. r
the mighty solitude had been the setting
OF the tragedy IF the outcast's life and
death.
1t was so far removed from all they
knew, from all to which they had been
accustomed, that they crowded around
him, plying him with questions, and
making much of him in their interest in
the things he told them. To their old
fashioned country simplicity he seemed
wonderful creature, a man whose life
had been filled with the stir of large
events and the interest of strange hap
penings, and in their unworldliness they
envied him hi, experiences far more
than the success which was their prac-
teal result. a last so full of adventure,
of endurance. If achievement, of life
appeared to the bucolic mind richer
treasure than mere gold.
Then, before Anthony could grow
inflated with his victory. and self as
sertive and AFRO CANT, and so spoil it all.
the tea bell rang and changed the cur
rent of thought and conversation.
"What do You think of him. my
dear Mrs. Wilmer found occasion to
whisper to Mary Beverley as they seated
themselves around the table.
He is interesting and original" Mary
replied at once. He is very strong
man; and he doesn't CRATE upon me
as much as l thought he would at first"
He grated on her horribly before the
evening was over. When the company
reassembled i'll the parlor after tea, he
sought her side once more, attracted in
spite of himself aal of his already wan
ing resentment. y pretty young woman
with a very sweet voice had gone to the
piano, and was playing softly The rest
We're gathered near, urging her to sing,
and combating her objections, which
were couched in graceful language, but
rested on a solo foundation, since her
supper was still almost in her throat.
Mary leaned back in the corner of the
sofa, watching the flames curl around
the great oak logs, and wondering idly
whether her little boys were in bed, and
whether Miss Cornelia had remembered
10 make them wash their hands and faces
and say their prayers properly before
going. She usually attended to these
things herself, tor Ran was still too
young to cope with either religion or
soap unaided, and she was Il careful
mother.
Anthony watched her from under his
eyelids; he had a trick of dropping them
until pupil and iris were indistinguish-
able in color or expression.
Suddenly he bent forward and said the
thing he should rot: