The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1895-11-14

We We're out at the shearing corrals
of the Acorn outfit in one Of the most
beautiful divides of the Vintah noun
tains that skirt the western side of
Wyoming. 1t was late in the after
noon of June day, and the Mexicans
who stood in the long line Of corrals
had finished the shearing for the day,
and were busy grinding their shears
for the early start next morning.
In one of the small pens which di-
vide the corrals into compartments
stood one of the Younger shearers. In.
that soft Mexican voice Of his he was
telling his companion across the low
fence that separated them that he
had made n score Of ninety-eight
sheep for the day. His companion,
who was his elder, by many years,
smiled. "You seem to be working very
hard, JOSE he said. IT have noticed
that you are always first to pick up
yOnr shears in the morning and last to
leave the corrals at night. Perhaps
the senorita has something to do with
it. You will see the priest when you
go back home, Jose" and the Mexican
smiled at the prospect Of soon return
ing, as it was getting late in the sea
son. e @E Es s:E
Jose's answer was interrupted by
long, clear halloa that went ringing
down the divide to be finally lost IN
the Big Butte Canon at the south.
''Ah! that is Elena" and Jose hurried
forward to greet the beautiful little
senorita that stood waiting to receive
him with soft welcome shining out
of her eyes that left nothing to be said
rs to her love for Jose. was helping
Forncrook, Burkhalter & Sullivan,
owners of the Acorn outfit, keeping
tally of the sheep. and as I crossed
the little stream that separated the
running corrals and chutes from the
camps, saw Elena's welcome to Jose.
If there is any such thing as a stroke
of Inconsistencies, had very severe
stroke just then.
I watched them as they turned to
the Mexican camp, Jose's arm around
Elena's waist, and then, with a very
strong Juggling somewhere beneath
my buckskin shirt, j turned toward
our camp. Some way neither the
mountain trout nor the fried sage hen,
dishes that more than make up for the
absence of pastries and buildings, sat
isfied me that night. Supper over, /
was making last round Of the sheep
were properly bedded, when I heard
ard violin coming from the direction
OF the Mexican camp.
The dozen odd canyas-covered wag-
ons were drawn up in semi-circle.
In the center a big fire Of we'll sea-
soned sage brush was cracking merri-
ly. Seated about the fire were half
a dozen Mexicans with two guitars,
three mandolins and a violin. AS [
stepped into the light of the fire I saw
at once that l was an intruder Call
ing to J-ose-Mexican Joe, as we
called him-I told him was homesick
and wanted to stay with them a little
While. Jose explained my situation,
and was given a most cordial well
come. Elena up, and taking my hand,
led me to a seat by the fire, and right
then I promised myself that Jose's
niDety-eight sheep should 20 on record
as 1OS for the sake Of Elena
Jose, then, evidently much embar-
raised, told me that there was special
occasion for rejoicing. as he had just
told his fellow-shearers that he had
claimed Elena for his own. Never
have I been more sincere in wishing
two people long life Of health and
perfect happiness. Some Mexican
wine. was passed around, and we all
drank to the joy Of Jose and Elena
1t was well into the night, and still,
the singing continued. Never have l
listened to sweeter music, and as I Law
looking up at the stars aud those
great peaks of the Rockies that COM
pietely surrounded us, I translated
each song into q story Of my own
1t was in one Of these reyeries that
was awakened by the soft touch Of
Elena's hand. "Senor," she said, .'now
! will sing for YOU Standing in
front of the fire. she loosened the
scarf which Jose had thrown about
her. First came the soft chords Of the
guitars, then the mandolins began an !,
aria, which seemed strangely famil-
lar; then the soft notes Of the violin.
and finally, the sweetest, clearest Of
voices began singing, in a low tone,
Home, Sweet Home in Mexican.
looked at Elena standing there, with
Jose at her side, then / closed nv
eyes. My thoughts at that time were
zoo sacred to be risked in description.
When finally wrapped myself in
my blanket it was to dream Of Elena
and Jose in a home of their own in
tar-off Mexico Suddenly / was awak-
ened. Rising up. / saw Jose beckonin
me to follow. Hurriedly slipping on