The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1898-10-07

sat gazing at the fire. And, watching the
flames, the old prospector saw, per-
haps, as did, line of white ash cap
ping the black Goals and counterfeit
ing the far-off snowy range. At last
his smile came back, a new light
burned in his eyes, and he began to
whistle softly an old air, linked, fan
eied, with that happy valley life. And
while he dreamed of the far off valley
home l travelled back over his story,
trying to picture what this late-com-
Ing taste of real love and real life must
have been to such b!ghearted child
Of the range. Such men as Snowdon
meet and mlngle with but two kinds of
women in their narrow way of life
good, but stupid; bad, but coarse.
And yet affection in them runs strong;
| tenderness Of heart, alertness of mind,
gentleness of manner develop in q
working partnership with nature
nature wild and wtnsome by turns,
but always companionable. And the
woman-robbed of her childhood, mar
rted to coarse brute; then suddenly
to become the idol and companion Of
this clean-thinking, big-hearted man,
who could measure her new 10y In
living?
All this, and more, flashed through
my mind as watched the blazing Are
and waited for my friend to resume
his story. At last Tom, the waiter, at
signal from me. brought two new
glasses of grog. The noise of the
glasses as they were placed on the
table called Snowdon back from his
dream, and. pulling himself together,
he resumed his talk; but speaking
slowly now, for his tide Of happiness
was swinging to the ebb
my! Howard, how happy we were
during those first days in Londonl We
tramped about to all the old palaces,
oh cathedrals, old parks; sometimes
we merely stood still and took in the
wonderful crowds and streets. It was
glorious thing to be alive. Clara had
read about ell the places, and visited
most Of them before, and she was so
happy telling me everything and show
ing me everything. We liked the old
abbey best; somehow, it always car
ried US back to the range. Well, like
that month passed away, then Clara
began to feel London air bit heavyi
her mothers old heart trouble showed
itself; SO I took cottage down at
Richmond, out of London fog and noise.
My tunnel had been sold and part pay
ment made. and had plenty of money.
There is no good telling of the
NO . hol l. 4
--'our honne'-the only home, Howard,
! had ever known In oil my life; !
don't believe ] could tell you IL tried.
But every day, when ! got through my
work In the city, l always hurried back
to Clara. and then we had O walk or
drive. or perhaps row on the river
TIL night sent us indoors with some-
thing brighter and warmer than Col-
orado sunshine IN our hearts, We did
not plan the future; only one thing
had been arrapged-we would pass the
winter In Egypt; this was Clara's idea,
not mine. Dashed If I knew exactly
where or what Egypt was.
"One night-it was last Thursday
was kept In the city later than usual
about two hours later-and 1t was
dark when 1 got home. When Iopened
the door, called out: 'Hulloa, sweet
heart. here I am; sorry to be so late
! got no answer. Perhaps she's out
walking I said to myself, and wentinto
the dining-room-there was Clara sit
ting In her chair by the window.
"Didn't you hear me. sweetheartT
said. Asleep, are your and then,
bending down. I kissed her. Her fore
head was like ice. I must have gone
mad then, for the servant came hurry
ing In to see what was the matter.
She saw at once what had happened
saw that Clara was dead, end-God
help me, ! can't go Oh"
Snowdon sprang from his chair,
walked rapidly to the opposite side Of
the room, turned quickly, and, with
few long strides. was ngain facing
me. Passion In his face, passion In his
voice. he cried:
"That was one week ago, since then
have been out of my senses; God only
knows how I've kept from killing my
self. Perhaps Clara has kept me from
that. She was Q good woman, How
ard; I'd like to 60 to her this moment,
but suicide wouldn't send me to where
she Is now."
Dropping into the chair, Snowdon
covered his white face with his big
hands; strength and story had reached
their end.
It was midnight, crowd Of men
from the music-hall at the corner
trooped into the smoking-room. The
sound of many voices and Of laughter
fell on my spirit with the chill of an
east wind. / touched my companion
on the shoulder, and said:
"Old boy, you must come home with
me. I've lots of Colorado pictures. A
few days rest will pull you together.
Come on"
Snowdon got up, drew on his over
coat, and followed me. taking my arm
as we passed into Little Queen street
and dividing the scant shelter of my
umbrella. The narrowing footpath,
however, soon forced Snowdon to drop
my arm and fall In behind me. When Hoi-
burn was reached. believing he was at
my heels, hurried across the muddy
street; but, turning q moment later to
ask question, discovered that he was
not behind me. A backward glance,
however, solved the mystery. A young
beggar-woman, carrying babe. had
stopped him on the opposite corner,
and he was giving her q handful of sill
yer.