The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1894-06-22
MINING CAMP EXPERIENCES.

Mrs. Robert Louis Stevenson Tells Some
Episodes of Her Early Western Life.
Once, a long time ago, Mrs. Robert
Louis Stevenson lived out in a western
mining camp That was before the
brilliant English essayist and novelist
saw her and fell desperately in love
with her, but even then she must have
possessed some attractions for the
stronger sex, since she was the recipi-
ent of frequent presents These gifts,
which were of simple but touching
character, such as red apples and sage
hens" were always made anonymous
ly, and, try as she would, Mrs. Steven
son never succeeded in surprising one
of the donors in the act. Although the
white men in camp were thus gallant,
she received rather bad impression of
the courtesy of the noble red man, as
may be guessed from the following in
cident which Mrs. Stevenson relates
with considerable enjoyment:
81 had always been led to believe
that the Indians called their wives
'squaws, that their conversation was
principally Ugh! ughr and that first,
last, and all the time, they demanded
'frewater.' Instead of this, the I'M
sophisticated savages with whom
came in contact shuddered at the taste
of spirits, had fair command of En-
glish and called their wives 'mahalas
and themselves 'hombres.' My
cousin Ben, remarkably handsome
youth, whose few years came to an I'M
timely end in that forlorn country,
was always very good in helping me
with my household tasks, much to the
disgust of Shoshone Jim, an Indian
who often came to the cabin. He re-
garded with extreme disfavor the
spectacle of Ben washing dishes.
"'Why you wash dish?'" he de.
manded.
"'Oh, the mahala makes me-" was
the careless reply.
"'You mahala|" inquired Jim.
"Ben replied in the affirmative,
whereupon Jim rose, walked out of the
house and disappeared on trail lead
ing to the distant hills. Late in the
evening he returned greatly fatigued
with his long tramp, carrying young
sapling carefully peeled and denuded
of its leaves and branches. Stick, ,
said he, offering it to Ben. You whip
you mahala; no good hombre wash
dish
''His face clouded at Ben's refusal,
then frightened with hope as he said,
in most insinuating voice, You like
whip
''My first, last, and only dinner party
in camp was an occasion of much tribu-
lation. We had no vegeta bles, but, as
there were plenty of cattle. made
roast beef the piece de resistance, while
of calf's brains, sweetbreads and
tongue I made a presentable vol ap
vent Vegetables there were none,
but made an imitation plum pudding,
which did very we'll
SIN the pride of my heart refused
all help in my preparations for the
dinner party, only allowing Ben in the
kitchen after everything was well I'M
der way. AS opened the door for him
to enter, q hen that had long been my
bane huttered in between his feet.
This hen belonged to a gang of China
men, who We're fattening her for their
coming New Years celebration. had
doing more or less damage, but was
afraid to complain to her owners.
She began Hopping about in the
idiotic manner of hens, upsetting
dishes, and utterly refusing to go out
of the door we had set open for her
exit Never was creature more exas-
perating than that hen. Finally she
pumped into pan of dough had set
to rise. Ben let fly Ratchet he had
picked up from the hearth; it went
straight to the mark, and the hen was
decapitated. 1t was good throw, but
the suit filled us with consternat ton.
We closed the door. shot the bolt, drew
the curtains and sat down in council to
consider the question of what we should
do with the body of the hen. A fowl
in Reese River was an article of untold
value. Its price might ruin us. Ben
suggested installments.
land become bond slaves to China
for the rest of our lives, returned l.
Besides we found that neither of us had
the courage to confess the deed and say,
like George Washington, i did it with
my little Ratchet Burning in the
kitchen stove would not be safe, for the
odor of burnt feathers might betray us.
Time pressed and we had come to no
decision. Steps must be taken cried
Ben, and catching up the fowl he but
toned it inside his coat, snatched up
his hat, and disappeared. In short
time he returned, unbuttoned his coat,
and produced the fowl, plucl1ed and
ready for roasting.
"'Into the oven with it, said he Il
had meant to shy it down that old
shaft behind the house, but hadn't the
heart to waste the good meat. 1t will
look well at your dinner party, and
guests do not ask questions
"'But the feathers and the rest?'
asked, doubtfully. No danger re-
turned Ben. 4 lay down behind a big
boulder and plucled it into my hand
kerchief; then put in a stone, tied up
the handkerchief, and flung it to the
bottom of the shaft. There's not so
much as a pin feather of evidence
against u.s. After dinner Pll send the
bones the same road
81 detected look of surprise in the
faces of my guests when the hen was
served, but l think l was the most
startled when a miserable child who
who had been spying ON us unobserved
(who would have suspected treachery
from an imp hardly weaned?) piped
up with: oh. is that the chicken you
and Ben stole?'"-N. Y. Sun.
The charity hospitals Of France
employ a staff of 234s doctors, 1854