Lyon County times. [volume] (Silver City, Nev.) 1874-1907, 1894-05-12
The G.I!-Hsst1''s Story.

ed a set at our diggin's as New
South Wales could show-no slight
thing. If the worlds kettle had
been set on to boil we'd have come
to the top as prime scum-truth,
mate. But among us was man
dubbed "the squire" because, al
though he lived and dressed just as
we did, there was that in him which
stamped him as of different breed.
| never came upon his double before
or since, and swells out of luck are
plenty in Australia. Rnmor went
that he was an English Baronet,
but had been forced to cut and run,
so he tried New South Wales and
the gold diggings, bent on succeed
ing.
He did not live alone; his daugh
ter was with him, though how and
when she reached him no one knew.
They lived in a small shanty in the
midst of the pines, far apart from
the other huts-a queer frame for
such IA grand picture of woman
a lady, with the superior bearing
visible in her father I'd walked
that way one day with the Squire
once and she ran out to meet him.
The sight of her struck me all of
heap, so unexpected in a lonely
spot, where there was no other com
pany than the birds, no sound but
the wind in the trees. She was
tall, the color of wild roses in her
cheeks, heavens blue in her eyes.
Her dress was dark and had none
of the fiashy ornaments that women
such as we take up with cram on;
her hair, coiled smooth about her
head, shone like black satin.
This is one of my-chums, my
dear" said the Squire, with his soft
voice and his hard smile.
Since then | had hung about the
log house after work often. fetch
ed water and sticks and did such
odd jobs as were not fit for her, say
ing no word; but she found me out
in brace of shakes and was thank
full for such help as | could give.
knowing that | meant no harm,
though | startled her at first, ii
great giant of chap in my rough
gear.
Once | came upon her watching
in the cleaning. How eerie it was
under the trees; the wind soughing
through the branches bringing a
dash of rain; deluge was in the
black clouds sweeping across the
sky.
II am anxious about my father"
she said, and she looked like a tall
white lily that had been showed in
to the wrong pot, and touching my
big, earth-stained fingers with her
fine, slim hand. II am always
anxious about him; though since
knowing you / have not felt SO alb
solutely distressed, for am glad
to rtcollect that you are within call.
You would stand between him and
harm, | Think"
why, yes, miss; make your mind
easy on that score; 'twould be done
with a will. But what harm is like
to come that you need worry your
self?"
Ned" she cried, stopping sud
denly-her father always called me
sol had such curious dream
last night. | dreamed that | went
down into the valley beyonC the
wood and there | saw my father ly
ing upon the grass sound asleep, 60
sound that could not wake him,
while the cluster of wild flowers
sprang up so high that they hid
him, and heard the pines in the
distance chanting a solemn kind of
litany. was crying when awoke,"
"You are too much alone, miss,
and grow nervous"
MY father has been very fortu-
nate lately, has he not" she asked.
"He has had some good finds.
miss; and to-day he got hold of two
jolly big nuggets"
II am glad. Will he bring them
home this evening? What's that?"
She sprang to the door, flinging
it open, the shine of the lamp be-
hind her.
Dearest father" she cried, SIS it
vou?n