The record-union., 1896-09-13

would sit by him and hold his hand.
sitting where he might always see her
face when waking.
AT last he was able to be propped up
in the easy chair for which she had
sent to Salt Lake City. One evening they
sat side by side, watching the sunset
colors pale and vanish. A light breeze
stirred the drapery at the little window.
Kingsbury turned his face to Agnes and
asked the question she dreaded to hear.
How did you come here, Agnes?" She
would have drawn her hand away. but
he held it fast in his
Sitting there, with her face downcast
or averted, even in the twilight gloom.
she told him the sad, pitiful story. III
luck had overtaken her father. One
reverse followed another till the farm
was heavily mortgaged and a hard and
pitiless creditor held the mortgage.
A stranger came to their village. He
was from the West he said, and wanted
young women for mattresses in a great
Western hotel. He offered a high price
for their services. Agnes saw in this
al opportunity to assist her father and
finally won reluctant consent to go.
Imagine her dismay and indignation
when on reaching the end of her jour
ney she found herself in one of the
worst mining camps in the West, and
knew that the tale OF the great hotel
was only clever fiction invented by a
smooth-to tongued scoundrel She was
friendless, penniless and at his mercy
She could not ask aid of the father
for whom she had gore forth to find
aid. Thoughts Of self-destruction
haunted her at first, hut she put them
aside. Not till the mortgage IS paid"
she would say to herself She was
young and fair, a good dancer, and she
laid away one gold piece after another
till there was enough to pay the mort
gage. and one day she sent it home.
Great was the joy of her parents, great
their gratitude. They begged her to
return. She put them off; she was
making money, she said; when she got
rich she would come. But to herself,
she said, II will live for their sakes,
but can never go home now. 1 could
not lift up my head amongst decent
people; if they did not know"
She knew that Kingsbury was in the
West and lived in mingled hope and
fear Of meeting him
When the story was ended Kingsbury
turned her face, pale and thin from
care and watching, toward him.
will you marry me and go back
home with me, Agnes?" he asked. Il
can give you home, dear, and / have
neither drank nor gambled for five
years-since mother Gied-and then he
corrected himself, adding, except the
night / found you" No need for him
to mention that-she knew the story as
Gid everyone else in the camp. The big
Missourian had watched with her many
a night by the sick mans bedside, and
had come daily to see if she needed as
sistance.
And you will take me as I am
after all that has happened?" she
asked. He looked in her eyes and
smiled, drew the wan face down to his
shoulder and kissed it; and for that
worn and weary woman that mute re-
sponse was sufficient.
The Missourian went for a minister,
and a few days afterward Dry Can
yon'S first wedding passed into history
A great quantity of a certain liquid was
consumed by the thirsty miners at
Kingsbury's expense that day. There
were a number of fights, but no fatali-
ties. Soon afterward the happy pair
started for their home in the far East,
followed by the blessings of the camp.
Ma, can We throw our old shoes at
'em?" asked three little towheaded
girls in chorus. The mother graciously
assented, as they all had new shoes
preparatory to leaving the camp.
We're goin to move-goin' to Dry
II
Agnes the day before.
Agnes kingsbury's last impression of
Dry Canyon was a vague one of seeing
through a mist of tears three little sun
bonneted figures throwing three pairs
of old shoes at the departing travellers
and shouting at the top of their shrill
little voices, Goodbye! Take keer of
yourselves," Her husband had a
more vivid impression of being nearly
thrown from the burro he bestrode in
consequence of a stray shoe hitting
that animal.
=
Dry Canyon has become only a men,
ory to the chief actors in this tale. Some
men lost, a few made fortunes there,
amongst the latter being the owner of
the burro train. A few men remember
It as the place where they made their
first stake; others mutter curses at
the remembrance that their bad
luck commenced in the Dry Canyon
mines. And yet memories of the danger
ard discomfort of life in the mines are
less vivid than the recollection of the
strange charm of existence there.
Far away in an Eastern State an
aged couple sit in the glow of life's
-n;a ,ft t1r;,-
grandchildren ringing in their ears like
sweet echoes from the days when Agnes
was a child. They have never known
unhappiness since she came back to
them with white hairs in her brown
tresses and lines on her face whose
origin was unknown to them, with
certain sadness in her face and voice
that was to remain forever; so different
from the Agnes who left them, yet their
tender, loving daughter still.
Rurt Kingsbury would give worlds to
Danish the trace of unconscious humil-
ward him as if she were ever pleading
mutely for forgiveness; she who had
been sinned against instead of SHINING:
who. surrounded by temptation, had
remained pure and undefiled.
IF she could only forget!" he signs.
But Agnes cannot forget.
Yet YOU may look in vain amongst
the happy homes of this fair land for a
happier one than that of Burt Kings
bury and his gentle wife, who has harsh
words for none and charity for all.
y
In cottage whose roof. like those of
all it's neighbors, is green with the moss
of Western Oregon. on the edge of a