Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1896-05-23
the pale, calm face OF Hong Foy looked

into hers with a dumb piteousness and
he sank IN a swoon. Hurriedly the
girl uncovered his head and saw for
the first time the great, jagged, ragged
hole made by that bent spike thrown
by her father. The iron had dug deep,
but the Chinaman had plastered the
wound with the clean waste taken from
the tool house and had wrapped his
quene around it. Maggie regarded the
hurt with little bit of womanly hor-
ror, and then she thought of how her
lover had walked all that night through
the sands with his head wrecked by
her fathers effort and had not intima.
ted that he was injured at all.
ale is worth It," said Maggie, and
tenderly she dressed the wound, wash
ing it with the precious water Hong
Foy hal carried in the great bottle.
HE is worth it,"
If you would have to guess at the
smallest part OF the awful journey go
out on the Southern Pacific where the
temperature is norm ally at 14O in Juno
at II o'clock in the daytime; where
the air is SO hot that it curls itself up ;
where the alkali is baked into powder
finer than the finest powder known to
medicine, and without the slightest
breath of air to agitate it Sits and
scatters about over the surface of the
earth, being drawn up by the sun just
as YOU have heard of water being
drawn up. 1t will be an unpleasant
ride to you, for you will leave your
coat at Ogden and your raiment along
the right OF way with great persist
ence. And beating, beating, beating
with might that makes your head
thump, is the great, world-consuming
sun. Yes, if you would like to guess
about Maggie and Hong Foy-the
crippled Hong Foy-and their twelve
days parchine, furnishing, agonizing
Journey, until they walked out OF
death and into n green line OF para
disc which ran along clear river, you
must so there and do 1T for yourself
And at the end of your journey, if you
ever get to the end of it, perhaps you
will fall fainting and deathlike at the
margin of the stream as Hong Foy did,
or perhaps you will drop on your
knees and pray rs dill Maggie.
! "The only thing in the cabin, )" said
Graves, (which plainly was not made
out of the things hereabouts, is great
bottle, which is apparently for water.
l wonder where it came from"
T don't" said the driver of the
water wagon. "What want to know
is about that humpy-lookin' camel
beast that the boy met us on. Tell
me where that thing came from and
I'll go home satisfied"
"They don'tknow themselves, " said
Ford. "They only know he cane in
here one uay, and the woman says he
was sent by God to help the Chinct
haul wool in winter time, but the
Chinaman insists that he was created
out of the allSali or something, from
what I gather in talking to him, as Il
special gift OF his joss. The boy says
nothing. | consider that beast the
greatest object lesson in the conc;lia-
ton of religious disputes that | ever
struck, for while holding these differ
ent views they don't quarrel about
him. The real explanation is probably
that he is the offspring of some OF
those camels the United States Govern
ment bought over in Africa several
wears ago for use in the Arizona army
posts, but which turned out n failure
and were let loose to roam where they
would"
81 suppose" said Graves, "ihat you
will say in your report that the red
headed, half-Chinese kid is the natural
child of the desert?"
eyes if this land Of heat and hard
ship is ever to be peopled think that
will be the kind for it !"
"Did it ever strike you," said Graves
to Ford, after they had got back tt
civilization, chow that Chinese friend
of yours and his wife aud child out
there in that desert are so fond OF one
another?"
"Graves,' said Ford, "the word
love always seemed to me to be
sort of sickly one for a grown man
to use in talking to another, but dc
you know that is what / would call
that case? I don't think I'd say
fond"
81 don't understand it Mt all, y
Graves described.
"Well you know there's no rule for
that kind of thing, old man. Love is
something you can't cipher and like
your latitude and your longitude. "
Chicago Record.