The daily morning journal and courier., 1895-06-21

Hdu leIl my horse, and by ms ald | got her home to my hut, where she lay
 for many days more dead than alive | She wanted nothing but a sip of water or tea; and when she came round lit | tie, mouthful of damper. It was 1 poor fare for an invalid, and one, too, who had evidently been daintily nour-
 ished; and I expected nothing but that it would kill her outright. She rallied, | however, and got up at last, and crept to the door; and fresh air helped to strengthen her; and as was natural
 for so young a creature, the heavy cloud of grief that had overshadowed her frightened little and she began to sing softly to herself, in a sorrowful heart broken way that saddened me to hear,
 but was better for herself, maybe, than
 the silent despair in which she had been
 since the day I found her.
 "As for Bill here, he had got better
 long before she was able to move about,
 and although he always took charge of
 her, he showed a great affection for nfe,
 and liked nothing better thangto follow
 me about. A
 T could make out nothing Sclearly
 about Katie-for that she told me was
 her name--except that she was the
 daughter of poor gentleman; that her
 mother was dead; and that she and
 her father had always been all in all
 to each other. He had made money at
 the diggings, but that was gone; she
 was all that was left; and I could see
 for myself that she was the bonniest. bit
 of lassie that ever gladdened a mans
 heart. Her eyes were bright and blue,
 like the dewy bluebells I used to gather
 when l was laddie on the Godscroft rigs; her hair had the color and glint of furnished gold; and her checks be- gan to show the loveliest color, like that of the sweet, fresh wild-roses.
 q think I see her as If it were but yesterday shaking back the curling hair from her brow, and lifting her bonny bit face to mine, and asking how she was to do this,i and what she was. to make of that, for she had never been used to work; and I had to show her how the simplest things were done; but she was quick at the uptake, and never needed to be told a thing twice; and l liked her to ask my advice, for when she did so her eyes would shine like gems, and her face would flush up almost as if she liked me; but that, told myself, was impossible.
 ''The long and short of it was that l began to like her too well for my own peace. The only happy moments in my life were spent in watching her, or listening with the keenest delight to every word she uttered
 "Sne told me often about the books he had read; and she spoke sometimes of the life she had led, life altogether | unlike mine. My heart sank within l me when I thought it over. What was that I should think of winning her | love? I had nothing to offer her but l he true affection of a fond, loving heart. I could not even tell her how | like aa aspen l9af, and could scarcely | get wor out if it were to save my | life. That was rough time on me, mates. was so wretched that I got | sour and gruff and spoke sharply to the very creeture I could have faycn | town and worshipped. so from less | 10 more she got to think that I was | fred of her presence there; and one .vening-how well remember it--she vas standing full in the blaze of the | freight, her figure erect, her hands | eosely clapped before her, her bonny , ue eyes fixed wistfully oa mine
 I must have been a great trouble 0 you she said quietly. And you lave been very good to me. But now
 feel quite strong. If you will put mo n the right road tomorrow I will go way with Bill and never trouble you
 my more.'
 'Where? I almost shouted, clutch- ng Bills collar as I spoke.
 " TO the city; It was there my father vas going,
 Have you any friends there?'
 No; have no friends anywhere; ut I have learned to work. shall nd work there, I hope
 Stay with me- Katie, I cried in ut { er despair. I have not much to offer ou; but I love you-you must have eenl how I loved you.
 "She did not answer me in words, but ( he stole her little soft hand into mine. ' low happy I was! could scarcely be- $ eve in my own good fortune, for had l ever dared to hope that it was possi- ( le that she could like me. c There was nothing to be gained by 'aiting. Handsome trousseaux are ot easily come by out in the Austra- an bush. We went down to the sta 3 on, where the parson chanced to be c aking his rounds, and were married. he very loneliness of our life made our | appiness deeper, I think. We were 2 ISe Adam and Eve in Paradise. Ia ever saw the sun shine so brightly as [
 did that spring, or the grass look so t esh and green; and my bonnie bit t ssie was as pleased as queen and as o ithe as a mavis. If 1 were to speak r ever, could never tell you of all the t ue and tender feeling of a lad and his ss who love each other as we did. n arth was like heaven to us, and that it nelly little hut an Eden. Woe is me! e were driven too soon from its shel- u r. Il She was as merry as linnet, as 2 id before, and her eyes glanced like II and her cheek bloomed like e red, red rose; but for all that, the T nker was at the root of my bonny A' 'wer. She complained of no pain, q Id she seemed to grow bonnier and u' nnier every day; yet she grew weak a
 also, and she knew it herself; but I U ruggled sore not to see 1t. IT. 'WhenI cannot stay any longer with .e u, John,' she said, promise to bury ls