The daily morning Astorian. [volume] (Astoria, Oregon) 1883-1899, 1893-05-07
Paul Prior, Priest.
fwrItten for rhe AstorIan.l

(Written for The Astorian.)
Shortly after graduating, had gone
into the mining region, not particu-
larly moral place. In fact, the miners
rather prided themselves that "Hades"
was the roughest camp in the Rockies.
Seated in my office one evening, was
surprised to see a large number of
miners pass my window, evidently go
ing out of town, leaving the saloons
and gambling houses practically emp
ty. 1 followed, wondering what this
strange movement meant. A short
distance from town was knoll, (by
that strange nomenclature of the wesD
called Calvary. Seated about 1t were
some two hundred miners, while in
the midst stood a young man, with
soft brown hair and sad brown eyes,
his complexion of that beautiful bril-
liancy we so often see in some cases
of Consumption. 1 was about to ask a
miner who he was, but he held his
hand up warningly and said, Hush!
he's going to sing" And as the notes
rose clear, like the tone Of a silver bell,
the rough miners seemed scarcely to
breathe. They were carried up beyond
all sordld desires, and when he stopped
heard them breathe like long-drawn
sighs. And then he preached; yet 1t
was not a sermon, but yearning cry
for love. He spoke of the miners love,
which led him to forsake society or
friends, to wrest from nature it's treas
ures. that loved ones might live He
spoke of mothers love, self-sacrificing
to the very end, and then the love of
God and love personified in Christ, and
read them 1.-THE Sermon bn the
Mount" that grand hymn of love, with
such true Interpretation that 1t came
to me as a revelation, and rough men
wept. And then he sang again hymn
of fafth triumphant over flesh. He
stopped, and from his lips there poured
a crimson stream as he sank half faint
ing to the ground. 1 rushed forward
to his assistance, and rough men bore
him tenderly to little shanty built
amid some apple trees, where they
said he lived a hermit's life.
The little room into which he was
carried, though rough, bore the un-
mistal,able air of refinement In a
niche in the farther wall was little
wooden cross, while q shelf well-filed
with books, betokened the scholar.
was wondering whom l could get to
nurse him, when Buck Lee, the one
time terror of the camp, said: Let
me nuss him, Doc! He's the best friend
I've got, and Old Buck stays with q
friend" gladly acquiesced. From
Buck / learned the history of hhe
man since he had come to camp. His
arrival had caused great excitement
A meeting was held to warn him tc
leave town. He met them with sucf
calm courtesy that they were disarmec
and returned baffled. The smallpox
had broken out, and old Smith, th'
physician, whom l had just succeeded
though chronically drunk, drank nov
worse than ever Mr.. Prior, for sucl
was the young priests name, hat
4 thrown himself into the work, ant
day and night he nursed the poor min
ers, Buck being of the number, am
through his untiring energy the small
pox was conquered. Not only was tn
q smallpox conquered, but he had mad
. 4 friend of every man. Frail of form
he made difficult journeys over tn
q mountains, to distant hamlets, and ha
Just returned from one of these eXpe
litions.