Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1893-12-29

VIM. his wife and seven children.
WV Deep down in the bosom
'-@ of the mountains was the
mine. Here the father had worked
each day from morn to night to feed,
even scantily. his wife and children.
At last came a season of great dearth-
The miner fell sick Sadly his wife
hung out Of sight his leather work.
suit.
The cold winter with its cruel grasp
stole down from the mountain tops;
still the miner lay sick; still the dearth
Of food throughout the little town; mol
here a mouthful to spare. The BIRDS
in the trees lived and were mNrry.i
Must the little children starve? Who
had done it? Il tell you. it's the
Gubich, king of dwarfs, who spoiled
the crops last year. | know his pranl<s,
curse him" said the oldest of the min
ers. Who in Summer steals all
the ra>pberries and straw berries?
He never eats aught else, and
has lived like Il prince. in his rocky
cavern up there among the holy frs,
ever since the old giant threw these
mountains out of his shoe because the
bit of sand hurt him. | tell you, the
Gubich can make us sick with
glance. touch or breath. Save mo
from going near his home. Yet they
say the cones off his trees are good to
eat. and can be made into wondrouS
pretty things which sell we'll in the
town below us. Starve or touch them?
Starve, | say.''
Dear husband" said the pcnitent
wife thou knowest the holy frs; go
to gather their cones. ] will sell them
and buy thee food which will make
thee well. Children, care for thy
father while | am gone. :"
Quickly throwing a shawl over her
head and taking basket on her arm,
out into the gathering GOODNESS of the
coming night stepped the mother The
wind shook the alders at the cottage
door until they nodded and peeped at
the windows. 1t roughly ratified the
dried foliage of the stately oaks, whose
sacrcdness to the gods the elements
were thought to respect, and then died
away among the pines in soft, sad
music, that brought tears to the
mothers eyes. 1t was like the moan
the BARNS made for bread The
tears broke into a sob; half-blinded,
with a bent head, she reached the edge
of the holy forest.
Pityingly, out from his bed of clouds,
the setting sun glanced warm and ten
der. He shot his parting rays among
the frs, and filled their deep shadows
with cheerful glow. Suddenly. into
the marked pathway of its light,
stepped little man with snowy beard,
who gravely dotted his leathern cap and
waited for the sad mother to reach him.
Good woman. what airst thou?
Why so sad?" broke upon hersstartled
ear.
',Oh, sir, | mean no harm. NV chill
dren starve: my husband never again
will be well. ] cannot see them ask
each day for bread and give them none.
/ go to gather cones. Do let me pass
and fill my basket"
Il would harm thee not, my friend"
said the little man. "And knowest
thou where the best cones can be
found? Follow this path a hundred
feet and there they can be gathered
without the mother was on her way.
A knowing look, caress Of his white
beard, sniff of the perfumed forest
air, and the little man had vanished.
With glad feet the mother hurried on.
Not a sound but the dropping Of cones
broke the stiffness of the forest. Faster
and thicker they seemed to fall at each
onward step. A perfect storm of cones.
They dropped upon her head; they fell
at her feet; they pelted her shoulders;
they filled her basket Frightened, the
poor woman turned and fed. glancing
neither to the right or left. Heavier
and heavier the basket grew. Breath
less and exhausted she reached her cot
tage door.
The mother entered and quickly
barred the door. Husband. husband,
think what has happened. On the
edge of the holy forest met little
man with snowy beard who told me
where to gather the best cones went
to find them, but the farther | went
the faster the cones fell from the frs.
They came about my head as thick as
snow fakes in nidwinter: vet the trees
snook not L was afraid and dlc mos
stop to pick up one: but some fell IN my
basket, and here they are"
Hist, wife! Look, look thou! They
are pure silver. It's the Gubich thou
hast met
Down the basket dropped Around
it grouped the mother and children.
True, there lay the cones, silver every
one, cleaning in the freight as had
the beard of the little man in the gold
en- glow of the sun.
The morrow's sun had tipped the
graceful frs with gold, when again
the mother stood at the edge of the
forest. In moment the Gubich was