Owingsville outlook. [volume] (Owingsville, Ky.) 1879-192?, 1897-12-02

which the sun-browned thinkers told OF
rork long sirre abandoned. the one on
the east followed by a small log house
set well back from the street, " h'ch
gave il AN Iii" of burrowing into the
steep hillside behind. Farther along,
as one looked in either direction, were
10 lie seen other stores and saloons, the
latter considerably predominating.
their lines broken at near intervals by
the door yards of modest residences
where the homemaking instinct strug-
gled against heavy climatic odds in a
Sickly showing of ecraniums and morn
ing glories. There were Chinese
Laundry and a bakery; rickety frame
blacksmith shop Haunting n covering of
out-oi-date circus posters, and an uu.
pretentious drug store, developed out
of the office of the one physician. " no
generally attcstcd the Eealthfulncss OF
the place by sitting all day long hcfore
his door, idly occupied with literature
which bore no outward resemblance to
medical treatiscs.
The houses were generally of logs, the
few of frame for the most part left I'M
| painted, and, like their more primitive
neighbors, wearing an air of premature
age and decrepitude from the dark
brown stains which the fierce Colorado
sunshine had wrought on those sides
which looked to east and west. Few
were of more than a single story in
| height, although the stores and saloons.
as n rule. had reached after more i'm
! posing effect in the square, sham fronts
SO popular in mining camp architecture.
while these had further emphasized
/ their pretcnsions Ia style by washes Of
paint in which n preference for pure
white had with the passage of time
brought painfully hcdragglcd appear
ance 10 the dusty place.
Rising abruptly behind the shabby
| procession of buildings on that side
facing the hotel was n mighty hill ter
minating in castellated heights of red
sandstone, a mass of color showing in
superinduccd briliiancy above the faded
slopes which appeared dead beyond any
| hope of resurrection; and the stunted,
dull-hucl pines, sparsely dotting the
eNpansc. gave scarce more vivid show
ing of life. All up and down this color
starved surface yawned prospect-holes
beyond counting, a few gray dump
piles at intervals telling of deeper
work; the smaller number still that had
gone so far as to erect shaft-houses
! showing now for the most part deserted.
Ii is the common background of the
mining camp, this disproportionate
showing of failure and success; and es-
pecially we're failure and gaunt woe
most in evidence in Windy Gulch in
| this summertime of 1894. for its veins
were mostly but rich in silver, the ill.,
omened metal at this time cast into
limbo by the powers that shape the
financial policy of the world.
But the camp wore an air of lethargic
indifference to all its ills on this warm
August afternoon. Itsday began early,
when the steam whistles of the working
mines shrilly cried out for change of
shifts" and up and down the hills on
every side the miners, always with tin
dinner-pails swinging in their hands,
might be seen going TO or coming from
their labors like struggling professions
| of overgrown ants. Then women, bare
headed and bare-armed, came out to
fetch water from the creek or to stand
| gossiping ut their doors, while with
loud cracking of the drivers whip the
stage for Orodelphia would wheel up
before the post office TO have the lean
mail-sack heaved on board with mighty
show of Importance. And after the
stage would come disjointed follow
ing of men on horseback and dusty
couples in open carts; more often still
heavy freiGht-wagons laden with ore
and otheis piled high with fresh lumber
eNhaling clean, resinous odors; all
these cumbrous eonveyances with gay
| iapgling of bells at the horses heads,
for the road down the canyon was mar
row, and for safety's sake it behoovcd
that all give warning of their coming.
All this was in the early morning, for
1.-THE majority would choose TO have the
day before them for the long, hard trip
10 town, making their homeward way
when the shadows had begun to length
en- and the air had grown cool. Now in
mid-afternoon nothing disturbed the
sleepy calm of the place save a few
children and chickens pottering about
in the thick dust of the street, the one
brood apparently as listless and void OF
purpose as the other. Across the way
the postmaster, secure in belief that no
body would come bothering him for
either mail or merchandise at this hour
of the day, smoked in dreamy content
his thin form luXuriously telescoped in
a wooden armchair. his long legs dis
posed across an iron wheelbarrow
which was evidently part of his stock
in trade. The saloon man next door
was visibly snoring, his mouth very
cavern of escaping sound; while so long
a time had elapsed since the doctor
had turned a page of his book that il
would seem he might well have commit
ted the last to memory. There was a
soft, broken murmur from the creek, 6
drowsy swish of leaves among the cot
tonwoods along its banks, and the
stamp-mill at the far end of the place
went on in q dull monotone, like ?
devils tattoo that would never stop;
but witbal it seemed deadly quiet.
Dorothy Meredith yawned helplessly
as she turned from her outlook behind
the dusty lace curtains of the Palace
hotel parlor to purposeless survey o.
the large, bare room. She had brought
her book here in the hope of finding {
cooler place than her room on the fiooI
above; it was cooler, but the atmos
phere seemed oppressively close, Will,
there was that in the stiff arrange
ment of the conventional parlor suit o.
cheap furniture which somehow con
veyed the impression that the apart
ment was not intended for everyday use
Now that she was here, Dorothy foun6
herself instinctively stepping about OF
tiptoe, with a vague sense OF intru
sion, very soon deciding that even as I
choice of evils the place would not do
She only halted while fretfully consid
ering whether she should return to hel
room and take a nap or shake off creep
ing lethargy by going for a walk, de
termining finally to take her chance
out of doors, although IL seemed well
nigh like counting sunstroke.
But she loitered by the window :