Blackfoot news. (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1891-1902, 1893-05-13

learning. 'Twouid be fine thing
for the children. Margery.n
The mothers face was somewhat
softened and her voice more sympa-
thetic as she asked. ''how could we
get there. Sandy. we have no money9"
They see to that, too. Where a
man has land like ours, they give the
money and you sign a paper, promis-
ing to let YOU have the money back
out OF the farm. if you do not pay up
every month on it. Not real mort
gage, you know, he explained as a
shadow crossed her face nd never
have that, only just guarantee |
think Jenkins called it,
Next day the paper was signed
Alexander Mcintosh (his \ nark),
and the family Immediately prepared
to start for Mr.. jenkins paradise in
the West.
Despite Mr., Jenkins. assurance.
Margery's heart misgave her as she
looked back at the deserted farm and
thought of the years she had spent
there busy and happy. She had
worked hard, but labor had been
frightened by love. She was wo-
man Of no education and knew moth
ing of the world, except rs her life
had taught her iii her primitive
country home. The new life was
full of terror to her and her heart
ached bitterly at the thought of for
ever leaving the home she had so
well loved. Sandy and the children
however were delighted and she
strove to hide her sorrow from them.
Hers was nature that could not
bear transplanting. and the flower
would never bloom in strange soil
The journey was not success. 1t
was long and hard and no arrange
mcnt whatever had been made for
their comfort. Each day the mothers
strength failed, but She kept her
trouble hidden and devoted herself to
the children. who were unaccustomed
to travelling and confinement. fretted
and fused great deal. Finally,
however they reached their destina-
tion, and despite the heavy rain, felt
cheered at the thought Of rest.
The sun set quite late one evening
on the wretched village OF Fairview.
in Washington making its wretched-
ness more than usually apparent. BY
low fence stood a man who had
once been strong and hearty, but
whose tall form now showed gaunt
and weak. and whose clothes would
be of little value even to a rag-man.
His brow was dark and the muscles
of his face twitched as from strong
excitement. while his hands opened
and shut conyulsively.
II was Sandy Mcintosh, though one
would scarcely think it possible. As
he stood there, he was reviewing his
life since the night they had landed
tired and weary in the heavy rain at
Fairyiew.
He would never forget the look OF
tired despair in Margery's eyes, as
she entered the wretched two-roomed
hut they were to call home It was
not even weather-proof and provided
poor shelter from the storm. Jen-
kins had explained that it was only
temporary, and the work Of building
would begin in few days But the
harm was done. The mother worn
and weary from the journey, caught
cold which rapidly developed into
decline. and Jamie who mad inherited
her weak constitution, suffered in
like manner.
He thought Of the weary months
that followed, how work grew slack
and then stopped altogether. until
starvation stared them in the face
He had spoken TO jenkins once in
his fierce Indignation, demanding to
be sent home again, TO be sneeringly
answered, that he had no home, for
the paper he signed had given the
farm to the company in default Of
one monthly payment, and Mr.. Jen-
kins reminded him he had failed now
: in three payments.
, After that he had no ambition. He
became sullen, silently nursing hi,
wrath until it grew terrible in it;
, proportions, consuming his strength
: and reason, though he made no out
: ward sign. When Margery. worn out
with disease and disappointments. Laid
down the heavy burdens Of her life,
a feeling of wretchedness settled
, over everything like pail, blottina
, ont for the time even his terrible re-
, sentiment But it burned more
, fercely afterward with deeper inten
) sity for every little grave that he dug
beside Margery's One after another
, they had succumbed to hunger anC
, cold. until none but Allan remained
The bright smart lad, for whose bene
| fit principally the change had beer
! made. had always been his favorite
, but he lay silent and still now, on th'
, rags that had served him for bee
. and he was alone. He could still hea
the faltering tones Of the little fellow
/ as he lay in his arms that afternoon
lit was awful--to be hungry daddy
, but it has gOne-now. have NJ
, pain-only ! am-so tired and
J sleepy goodbye daddy dear"
And heart and arms alike. held /
dreary sense of emptiness.