The record-union., 1893-09-16


ders, and she looked like young dryad
4 as she pulled at the dull embers. An old
woman, with care-worn face and gray hair
| twisted into a hard little knob, was stand
ing near an improyised shelf cutting
thick pieces of fat bacon into frying
pan.
Mary Fenton felt in flash that she
knew them-"Me and Mother and Bilp'
and felt in sympathy with them. The
minor chord in life is very fascinating
when it does not vibrate for ourselves.
Kit saw her at last and sprang up hastl-
ly, her cheeks afiame from the eXertlon,
and her short curls, tossed and tangled
by the evening wind, standing up like
halo about her head. Kit was hardly
more than II, but well developed for her
age, showing the effect OF mountain air
and training.
! "Glad to see youw She extended her
hand, grimy with ashes and charred
| sticks.
The old woman looked up without any
| interest at the arrival-no light In her
faded gray eyes.
Mother" Kit waved her hand by way
of Introduction, in the direction Of the
frying-pan.
The old woman grimly nodded.
BILL" Her voice softened as she
stepped near the couch. The man looked
| up with a gleam of interest as Mary
the fruit.
Thanks" He spoke in a fretful
voice, broken by coughing. Pm power
full tired Of bacon. Them cherries look
cool.'
Kits hands hung listlessly by her side.
eyes. 81 know, Bill, it's powerful hard.
The bacon is salt and hard; but it's all |
can do just now. May be tomorrow"
her face brightened-"Pm going to get
some lilies for Miss Fenton, and they'll
let me have little beef, just for you, at
the hotel"
With a shrug of fretful impatience the
man turned his face away from them,
and lay silently munching the fruit.
Your brother is quite ILL.," Miss Fen
ton said as Kit accompanied her across
the road.
"My brother! Why, it's Billp' Kit
looked up into her face with surprise, and
then said in explanation: Il forgot
every body knew about us in Oregon.
Bill and l are sweethearts-have been
| since we were little kids. We are going
to be married." she Strengthened herself
up with a comical air of dignity, when
| Bill gets WE'LL" Her voice taltered. miss
Mary-mayn't l call you that3 l heard
the old lady at the hotel say your name,
and l liked it. Will you walk up the
road piece with me this evening. the
mounting at home, and when lump
comes into my throat and l feel bit
down, 1t does mo good to see 1t up there
in the sky, looking down upon me just
as it does at home. All the time when
we were coming l kept looking over
my shoulder, and the white mounting
| kept following us, as if it was going TO
take keer of all of u.s." She drew her
sleeve across her eyes, as if to brush away
little moisture, then pulled the old ci-
| garette hat down low over her face, Civ
ing it a sort OF rough pat. Its one OF
Bills old ones," she said in half aside.
1t was growing dusk. The long shad
ows OF the pines on either side length
ened quite across the road, until their
tips were lost in the wild azaleas and
bracken by the wayside.
The Sacramento kept up gurgle and a
rush just below, which blended in with
the soft soughing Of the pines. Mary
Fenton walked close by Kits side and
waited for her to speak,
well, Miss Mary, you are so good to
him I'll tell you just from the beginning,
and 1 think, Miss Mary, knowed the
first minute that l saw you settin' there
in that rocking-chair that you was an an
gel, and maybe could help Bill.
Mother and me lived all alone in
cabin in Southern Oregon. Father was
killed when / was born-spree," she ex-
planned shortly. Mother has always
had a sort of misery since. She's never
| happy, even here. She didn't want TO
come. Bills folks lived next to us, bout
two miles away. BilPs older than me,
but he was always sickly; didn't like
boys: SO when l was big enough we
played together and Bill was good TO me,
and / used to fight for Bill.
"Bill's folks went home to Missouri,
and Bill stayed. He's q wood-chopper,
and me and Bill, we've always loved each
other. Me and mother farmed our ground
ourselves and we've always been dirt
poor; but me and Bill was always happy.
| You see. Miss Mary, if folks have got
each other in this world, they've got all
that's wanted. Then Bill took cold, last
winter-had fever. | took him home
and nursed him. He was pretty bad. 1t
was hard winter, wet, and l thought 1t
never would stop. Bill got punler and
punier. Mother said it was the way OF
the Lord, because 1 was SO set on Bill;
but, Miss Mary knowed better"
They reached the view of Shasta, and
walked to little spot away from the
road. Kit picked out a smooth log,
folded Miss Fenton's shawl over it, and
made her sit down, while she stood fac
ing the great white mountain.
1T kept on raining, and L rode to the
| DOCTORS, ten miles from our cabin, and
he said to bring Bill here, where the air
was dryer, and give him chance, so |
didn't wait, but hitched up to our little
wagon and we came. 1t has rained here,
but it amt going to any more, and he
will get we'll; l know it." Her voice
grew more cheerful with hope.
She stood silent for moment with
face uplitted in thought, and, then, notic-
ing the stars beginning to come out. one
| by one, above Shasta, she said: "Why,
| Miss Mary, it's getting cold. You'll have
a chill. We must be going home"
All the way back Kit chatted cheer
fully, telling little stories of her home, all
entwined with anecdotes of Bill and full
of his praises.
hacking cough broke the stiffness of the
| night. Kit started as if it hurt her.
II shouldn't have left him. Wait a
moment, Miss Mary, must give him his
medicine, then I'll see you home"
Miss Fenton declined her offer, as it
| was only a short distance to the tavern,
and as she turned away she heard the
| QueruIous tones of the invalid scolding
| Kit, who answered him with CHEEKY
| tenderness.
| One OF the fishermen joined Her as she
neared the tavern, showing her his basket
of two-pounders. Her thoughts were up
/ lifted and she half fabsent-mindedly ad-
mired his booty and sought her room.
Poor little Kit, ignorant, half-formed
| child, had raised Mary Fenton to nights
| she had not dreamed of. If Richard
/ Drake had been there that night to press
| his suit she could have put herself in the
| background and been ready to face the
world with him.
Daylight often brings us down from
/ our pedestals; so it was with her. She
was not quite so sure in the morning. 1t
is easier to be heroic by the glamor of
moonlight than in the clear rays of the
| midday Sun