The Hocking sentinel. [volume] (Logan, Ohio) 1871-1906, 1896-12-17
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A Dakota night. The prairie
u wrapped in mysterious shadows
Il \ rolls away to the south and van
ishes among the ghostly stars. Through
the sedges of the marsh the night win'
sighs fitfully; and the frogs, from thel
reedy haunts, croak hoarse accom-
paniment.
For Hans Brynjulson, smoking in th'
door of his 'shack," and looking out ove1
the moonlit plain and coteaux, there i:
but one word in the heart, one song OIL
the lips of nature.
Christina!
Well, indeed, did Hans remember hel
raids of golden hair-her sparkling eyes
the fair beauty of her northern face
They had parted-but that was long ago
You will make your fortune in Amer
lea, Hans. Be brave. 1 will come when
you want me. God be with you, my
dear onew
Not day passed but these words
leaped from the memory to the heart of
Hans Brynjulson. They were oftener on
his lips than were his prayers.
The first year, the dreaded southwest
wind scorched and withered a field al
most ready for the reaper, but Hans
saved enough grain to plant the land
again. The second year, crops were
backward, and the wheat was "nipped"
by frost and shriveled and backened in
the husk. The third year crops were
beaten to the ground by hail.
How had Hans contrived to keep body
and soul together during these years of
trial? BY mortgaging his possessions.
h.s claim, his horses, his farming impe-
ments-everything- been laid under
contribution to tide him over the hard
times.
In his hands he had letter. 1t was
dark and he could not read it-but this
was unnecessary. He had conned it
word for word until he could have recited
1t by note. The letter was from Chris
tina. She told her lover, in simple words,
that she could not remain away from him
longer. A longer absence, for her, was
worse than death. Surely, her willing
hands would prove a mighty factor in
his hard life. The meanest drudgery at
his side and for him would be happiness
FOR her. The Stockholm sailed on the 1sr
of December for New York. Could he not
send her money to pay her passage?
Ii so, she would come third-class all the
way. God bless him for the faithful
lover that he was!
Poor Hans! He had never written
Christina of his heroic struggle with fate.
What should he do now? Tell her all?
No, no. His heart rebelled against such
a course. Fair, loyal Christina! He
would send her the passage money. But
where was he to get it? He started sud-
denly to his feet. The moonbeams, strik-
ing his haggard face, wreathed it with a
strange beauty.
SAY skall dot" he murmured in his
broken English; cay skall see Messer
Yonson in da mornin'!"
"Say, do you know what that ere
crazy Swede from Pony Gulch has been
up to?'
Chris Larkin, tae blacksmith, dropred
the head of his hammer on the anvil and
supported himself on the handle with lis
barred, sinewy arms as he addressed this
sentence to Cal Higgins, farmer
''What now?" asked Higgins. What's
the latest?"
Gone an mortgaged himself TO Law
yer johnson for $780,"
"'Tain't possibler'
'Tis, too-but it can't be legal"
"S'pose the Swede can't pay up when
the mortgage is due?
"Johnson'll foreclose. s'pose."
"Then he'd own the Swede, hey?"
"More'n likely. Then he cd hire him
out by the day, We see, an git his money
back in that way"
"When's the mortgage due?"
"New Years Day"
"What did tho Swede want the money
for:"
Dunno. He went over to :he post
office, bought money order an sent
away ev'ry plagued cent?
Don't that beat all!' exclaimed Hig-
gins, disgustedly; that's jest ike them
Swedes. Some fool spekerlati,I, I'll bet
copper"
1t was Christmas Day.
In the hooks and crannies cf Wells