Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1892-02-11
Then he and kept watch and watch

Then he and kept watch and watch
beneath the starlight.
Pretty wei plowed up, that arm of
his'n, said he
Il have seen alnputation performed
for less.
''Then I'm dun glad there's no saw
bones about. | don't believe mater means
a mans leg or arm to go until she breaks
the solid bone, SO that it amt to be sot
nohow. But what do you allow to do?
Lamm ahead or squat heresn
"You are the oldest; you have most
experience; | will take your advice"
October is sweet as the smile of a gal
when she hears that her man has made
fifteen hundred dollars off the purceeds
Of half acre of onions, to the mines;
but these yer fall storms is reglar In
juns; they light down 'thout sending on
hand bills. We ought TO be p'intin for
home if we can.
But Brent's woundl Can he trayel?"
"Now, about that wound, there's two
ways of loolzin at it. We ken stop here,
or we ken poot for Laramie. allow
that it oughter take that arm Of his'n a
month to make itself right. Now in a
month there'll be p'r'aps three feet Of
snow whar we stand.
"We must go on"
Besides, lookerherel Accordin to me
the feelins mean suthin, when mans
got any. He'll be all the time worryin
about the gal till he gets her to her fa-
ther. It's my Judgment she'd better
never see the old man agin, but |
wouldn't want my Ellen to quit me, eff !
was an unhealthy gonoph like him.
Daughters ought to stick. closer'n twitch
grass to their fathers, and sons to their
mothers, and she amt one to knock off
lovin anybody she's guv herself to
love. No, she's one Of those stiddy
kind-stiddy as the stars. He knows
that, that there pardener Of yourn
knows it, and his feelins won't give his
arm no rest until she's got the old man
to take care of and follow off on his
next streak. So we must poot for Lara
mie, live or die. Thar'll be a doctor
there. Eff we ken find the way it
shouldn't take us more'n ten days. I'll
poot him on Bills sorrel, jest as gentle a
horse as Bill was that rode him, and we'll
see eff we hain't worked out the bad luck
out of all of Us for one while.
Armstrong's opinion was only my
own, expressed Oregonly.
'sThat there a. & A. mule, " says Arm
strong, twas Bills and mine, and this
stuff in the packs was ours. don't
know what the fellers did with the two
mean mustangs they was ridin when
they found us fust on Bear river-used
EN- up, reckon.
Here Brent hailed MS cheerily.
Look alive therei We idlers here
want to be travelling"
II told you so, said Armstrong. He
understands this business jest as well as
we do. He'll go till he draps. Thar's
grit into him, eff know grit"
Yes: but when saw him sit still with
his back against the spruce tree, and re-
membered his exuberant life Of other
days desponded. He soon took occa-
sion to speak to me apart.
''Dick," said he, ''you see how it is.
am not good for much. If we were
alone you and might settle here for a
month or so, and write Bubbles from
the Brunnen.' But there is a lady in
the case. 1t Is plain where she belongs
| know every inch Of the way to Lara
mie. | can take you through in a
week"-he paused and quavered little
as he continued-s.if l live. But don't
look so anxious | shall"
1T would be stupid for you to die
now, John Brent the Lover, with the OBJ
stacles cut away and an heroic basis Of
operations
"a wounded man, perhaps a dying
man, has no business with love. l will
never present her my services and ask
pay. But, Dick, if | should wear out
you will know what to say to her for
me-
We grouped to depart.
II shall remember all this for scores
of sketches" said Miss Clitheroe.
And indeed there was material. The
rocks behind threading away and mar
rowing into the dim gorge of the alley;
the rushing fountains, one with its cloud
Of steam; the two great spruces; the
greensward; the thickets, and above
them far away glimpse Of world, all
run to top and finging itself up into
heaven, a tumult of crag and pinnacle.
So much for the scenery. And for per-
sonages, there was Armstrong, with his
head turbaned, saddling the white ma
chine; the two mules, packed and TAX
ing their last nibbies of verdure; Miss
Clitheroe, in her round hat and with a
green blanket rugged as riding skirt,
mounted upon the sturdy roam; Brent
resting ON my shoulder and stepping on
my knee as he climbed painfully to his
seat on the tall sorrel; Don Fulano wait
ing, proud and eager And just as we
were starting stone fell from overhead
into the water; and looking up we saw a
big horn studying us from the crags,
wishing, no doubt, that his monster
horns were ears to comprehend our dia-
lect.
Goodby to the Luggernel springs and
Luggernel alleyl to that scene of TRACE
dy and tragedy escaped!