Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-08-25

heard the 'ughw with which 1 am getting
tolerably familiar, and looked up to see a
blanketed Indian standing outside the door
as motionless and picturesque in the moon
light as a piece Of sculpture.
What do you want?" l asked very brave
ly-apparently.
Heap, much hungry" was the response
1 had but one thought, and that was to
get rid of him quickly possible, so i
stopped and held out to him the red-hot
pie. With a grunt of satisfaction he reach
ed for it, and then he let go of it without
any help. Talk about an Indian being a
stole and standing pain without finching.
That Indian gave voice to a yell that
Gabriel would do well to emulate. He ex-
ecuted a war dance, and murdered English
fuently, as he tried to express his con-
tempt for woman-a white squaw-who
would play such contemplate trick on
heap good Injun." And all of the time l
was as guitless of any effort to iniure
him as the baby in the other end of the
car 1t was just about minute and half
from the time 1 attempted to dispose of
Mrs. Lanes pie till half the town was cir
culating around the boarding train, but my
statuesque Indian had fled.
Has the redskin been a hurtin' of you
none?" asked one of the crowd as he leaped
into the car. l assured him that 1 was
unnamed and very sorry for the disturb
ance of which 1 had been the unwilling
cause. L explained the situation well as
/ could, for l was ready to scream with
nervousness. and he then offered TO clear
the crowd away and stand guard until Mrs
Lanes return. He sat on the edge of the
floor in the door for an hour or more and
whistled and sang, never offering to speak
to me, and l tended bread and pies, and
wondered how long could endure life on a
boarding train. Yet Mrs Lane, as i knew
oy that time, had been as tenderly reared
as myself.
Mrs. Lane did not get back till after 2
Q CLOCK, and 1 was putting away the last
pan of understanding bread We went 10
bed at once, for We were both worn out.
Wanted "a Guide Book.
At breakfast the next morning Mrs. Carr
was Mrs. Lanes guest, and Immediately
after the work train went out the arrange
ments were completed for the funeral. The
poor faded little wife did nothing but sit
and sob and sigh. But there was no call
for her to do anything else. The denizens
Of the tented town made every effort to
give the murdered gambler a good send
raised for him.
There ought to be some flowers" sug-
gested Mrs. Carr timidly SO jimmie. Robbie
Nellie and [ went out and gathered some of
the tall purple flowers and a few wild YER
benas, and she seemed quite satisfied when
they were disposed about the cheap pine
coffin. with its gsudy gold-plated mount
1ngs. The grave was dug on the side of
hill, and pine cross was chopped out to
put at the head. One of the dead mans
friends wrote the tpitaph:
BILL Carr his grave. he WAS took
Sudden hUt The Angles Needed HIM
The funeral services were held under
the pines beside the open grave. Mrs.
Carr had been taken to the spot, when
one of the gamblers came rushing breath
lessly over to know IL Mrs. Lane had
Gross and crown guide.'
do you mean a Bible?" she asked.
That's whatever" he replied. I'VE
amt got no parson. an we allowed that
n MO had
guide book. l reckon we ough'thave some
singin'." he added. hesitatingly. I'VE amt
none of us much on singin plantin' tunes,
though ha,, He a waited minute and then
lettin' the girl kid sing a bit? 1t would
cherk Bills wife up lot. She's been used
TO havin' things done in style. you know"
Mrs. Lane looked worried. II don't like
to let the children come in contact with this
sort of thing, but for that poor woman's
sake. l think i will let jimmie sing for
them"
Ard so it happened that above the dead
gambler there were flowers and singing and
a sermon. jimmie simply and unatfectedly,
sang Jesus Lover of My Soul and
her childish voice foated out beyond the
pines and died among the hills l thought
the Gear old tune had never had a sweeter
rendering. Then one of the gamblers came
and whispered to her and laid the Bible In
her hands. She turned a little pale and
said TO her mother that they wanted Eer
to read. May l repeat one of my lessons
instead?' she asked. a tender, loving
clasp of the hand and a nod treasured her.
With a little culver in her voice. she re-
peated the Sermon on the Mount, then
bowling her head she repeated the Lords
Prayer, and from among the men came q
murInur of voices tai ing up the long-for-
gotten words. The poor soul sent all I'M
ready to judgment was past all help. but
the tender words were a comfort to the
81 her Worthless husbsnd ulf the grave
interviewed. How much women can suffer
and yet be strong. And what models of
heroism these pioneer women are.
SONORA SARA.