Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1893-01-28

you. She can have the same inscrip.
tor engraved on the inside, and in less
than six months you'll have it. Twill
be n new reminder of home and still
better than the old one. It's all nom
sense to quit the diggings now, when
you're doing so well.'
Dick sighed wearily as he replied:
oh, no, that plan won't work. 1t
wouldn't be the same ring. My wife
had the last one made for me out of n
ten-dollar gold piece that she earned
herself by doing some embroidery, all
on the sly while was away at my of
fee. She placed it on my finger when
saying good-by on board the ship.
Twas the product of her own loving
labor and I'd vc the last ounce of dust
I've got in the world to have it back
again"
Three weeks had passed away since
O'Brien's mishap. Sunday had come
again. 1t was to be his last on the dig.
gings. He intended to start on his six
days trip to Melbourne, so as to be
ready for the sailing of his ship.
Many of us had been occupied for
hours in writing letters to send home
by him, and in the afternoon, feeling
the need of little recreation, we went
out to indulge in the harmless amuse.
ment of throwing the boomerang, that
same implement-the only one in camp
which had caused O'Brieu's trouble
and the sight of which he had of late
so detested.
On this occasion, however, whether
moved by spirit of good fellowship,
or realizing the unworthiness of his
aversion, do not know-he came out
to witness the sport.
This particular boomerang was a
prettily finished weapon, two feet seven
inches long and about eleven ounces in
weight.
Some of us had become quite expert
in it's use, and now, as we threw one
after another, several good shots were
made, though no one had as yet sue
ceeded in hitting the target, blue
flannel jumper (blouse) hung on a
stake behind the starting crease. But
at last a young fellow named Wells,
came within eighteen inches of it and
was declared the winner. o'Brien was
getting interested.
"Pooh!" said he, II can beat that my
self"
TRY a throw or two, Dick" shouted
dozen pleased diggers, and he stepped
up to the mark, boomerang in hand.
But, either owing to lack of practice or
because of his reduced strength, the
missile. on leaving his grasp, did not
take it's usual bold fight, but fell to the
earth some twenty-five yards in front
of him. 1, happening to be nearest,
ran to pick it up for another trial. 1t
had fallen directly on an old cart track
and was nearly buried in dust
l put the toe of my boot under it, in
tending merely to flirt it out, but
kicked rather hard and sent it three
yards away, where it alighted on a
sun-killed shrub.
On STOPPING torecoverit, the familiar
glitter of gold met my eye. With a
scarcely -harbored hope bent still low
er Yes, twas no illusion; for there
snugly nestled in the heart of the with
cred bush and upheld by interlacing
twigs, lay the lost ring!
We were accustomed to surprises in
those days, hence l was able to sup
press the jubilant yell which almost
rose to my lips. The much-berated
boomerang had nobly redeemed itself.
With it in one hend and the gola
circlet in the other ! sauntered Care
lessly back to o Brien. He was prepar-
ing for fresh cast, when said: Hold
on, Dick. Maybe you'll make better
throw with this on your finger" and !