The Bossier banner., 1892-04-07

and the three little shock-headed ch il.
dren who are driving away in wagon,
drawn by two sad-looking horses, this
place has been home, in all that the
word implies for such honest, content
ed, industrious people as these-people
| contented with their life and with eact
other.
The wagon turns bend and the
| house is lost to view-not, however,
before they have all taken last long
farewell look at it. Then the man,
with tears in his eyes and lump in
| his throat, chirps to the horses and
they go out into the world to begin
| life anew
The woman gives long, choking sob,
as if trying to control her tears-then
| throws herself on the floor of the
wagon and breaks into passionate
weeping. The children, too young to
understand, are frightened, and, hud-
ding about their mother, they whim-
per from pure sympathy. The man
turns in his seat. and swallows, hard,
two or three times, before he says,
kindly: There, Lindy, dear, don't cry.
l know tn Lord'll make it all right
some day. Don't you worry none,
child. reckon we kin buy it back an
go next year an live there without
botherin' our heads about crops. On'y
few months more an we'll be able
t tce. So cheer up,. child, there
good girl
Poor Sam Owen! AS young man,
forced by i'll health to leave the min
ing country and give up his dreams of
fortune for the humdrum work of the
| farm-driven out of Kansas by grass
hoppers, from Minnesota by prairie
fires and storm-now, the home he has
worked so hard to build taken from
him by King Mortgage-and still he
goes forth into the world with power
ty, almost starvation, staring him in
the face, and tries to be cheerful
! Two months before a letter had
come from stranger in Colorado in
closing rude map which dying man
an old chum of Owens in the mines
had asked him to. send to his old
companion. At the time, Owen had
decided not to avail himself of the in
formation given by the man-now,
|
mau he was, Sam Owen set out to en-
counter hardship and privation, i'll
health and perhaps death, in compar-
ative wilderness.
| He left his family at Aurora, the
town nearest his destination, gave them
all the money he had, and went on
alone, despite the protests of his wife.
A week later, hungry, weary, heart
sick and i'll, a man plodded along the
bank of the creek in Kingbolt canyon.
Now and then he coughed-that hol-
low, terrible cough which chills the
hearer. Where gulch led out of the
canyon he paused and took ragged
paper from a tattered pocket-then
turned up the gulch, wearily. He had
searched twenty gulches this way, and
still there was nothing-nothing He
plodded along, and turned the corner
of great, square rock. He looked at
the soil under his feet-went on a few
steps-and then, taking off his worn
hat, knelt reverently down and thanked
God.
Then Sam Owen posted his claim no
tice, thinking how useless it was, in
this wilderness, and went back to his
little shack to take the rest he SO sore
ly needed.
Three weeks later, Sam Owen, worn
and wasted by the fever into which toll
and privation had thrown him, again
traversed the bank of the creek, now
lined with the tents of the fortune
seekers who had followed the rush"
Weak as he was, he did not notice the
weight of his pick and shovel, and his
step was quite brisk as he hurried
along, smiling happily to think that
none of these men could possibly find
his claim. He almost broke into run
as he passed up the gulch, and when
he reached the square rock his exer-
tions and the frequent fits of coughing
had brought forth cold sweat from
every pore of his body. Looking
ahead eagerly he turned the corner of
the rock, and-merciful God!
We found Mrs. Owen and the little
ones in Leadville, whittier the poor
| woman had drifted in search of work
to keep the babies from starving. Her
grief over the loss of her husband was
heartrending-bu no less touching
was the dull, apathetic way in which
she received the news that she was
half owner of the Belinda mine and
forever beyond the reach of want.
r. L. KETCHUM.
Equality in Heaven.
81 knew an Irishman in Amesbury,"