The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1898-08-16

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well, Suppose you'rc right. Tom"
that, there was 10 help for it. There We're
no other claims worth having within
reach of his means, and he could only
remain in camp by taking a berth as
overseer or something of that sort,
which, of course, would offer no pros
pect of that sudden rise to wealth
which in common with every other dig
ger on the fields he had so confidently
anticipated, and which alone could
realize the hopes that he cherished on a
certain subject which lay very near to
his heart.
Now there is we'll known fact
which writers of fiction have very nat
urally plagiarized to considerable ex-
tent. 1t is, generally and more espe-
cially in such CANDLES with destiny as
diamond hunting and gold digging,
that a mans fortunes change for the
better, if they are going to do SO at all,
just when he seems to have the best
reasons for accusing the fates of using
loaded dice to his disadvantage. 1t is
also true that under such circumstances
the capricious fates delight to bring
about the change through some appar-
emily inadequate and. often disreputable
agency.
1t was just this way with Tom Bur
rows. Shortly after he had begun on his
claim he had, to all intents and pur-
poses, bought a bushman from white
digger whom he one day found i'll usin.
! Il, 10 - I
savage is accustomed to use his WIFE
He had expostulated with the digger,
who told him i'll terms of almost sui
phurous eloquence to mind his own
business. For the next 4 = minutes by
the clock the bushman had a rest, and
his MASTER when he had decided that
he had really been i'll fight and not an
earthquake, was not in position to go
on with his licking.
The next proceeding was an adjourn
ment to the nearest bar, where Tom
stood the digger q drink, paid the value
OF the trifie which he had accused the
bushman of stealing and SO secured his
consent TO the immediate transfer of his
services, That was the kind of man
Tom was
Now, this bushlnan, who WAS known
on the fields as Shirty from the fact
that he was the only one Of his kind
who possessed shirt, or even q frag-
ment Of one worn in the fashion of the
white man, was Il dirty, drunken, dis
reputable little savage. Like the rest Of
his species, he had received but few adj
yantagcs from nature. and even these
he had not turned to any account.
A dispassionate estimate would have
placed him considerably lower in the
scale of responsibility than IA decently
brought UP dog but iii one respect at
least he would not have suffered by
comparison with a dog. Though be only
dimly grasped what it meant, he had
never forgotten the enc Kindness that
had been done him during the course of
his sor(iid and degraded existence and
SO it happened i'll the weird arrange
ment of human things he was able to
repay it with magnificent interest.
OF course he knew of the sale of the
claim. His new master had treated him
firmly, but still with no approach to
brutality, and he had no taste to change
MS service lCF tllaU Oh Macaualn OF
Grunstein. The first thing he did on re-
ceiving his dismissal and the last of his
wages was to go and have drink of
Cape Smoke and it seemed as though
some occult virtue in that commonly
fatal fluid kindled somewhere within
the recesses of his half developed little
brain ray of real, Independent intelli-
gence.
He didn't take a second drink, and,
still more wonderful, he seemed to
know that if he had done so he would
have gone on as long as his money last
ed or he could see to get the stuff into
his mouth. He went right away, as q.
dog who hears his masters whistle
would have done, to Tom S shanty. Tom
was there in the middle Of Lis brown
study, and he greeted his late retainer
somewhat gruflly But sAirty did not
mind this; he was accustomed to it.
Humbly but mistakenly he took him
by the edge of his coat and drew him
to the door and out into the open air.
1t was clear, magnificent starry night,
and when they got out Shirty began
pointing at the stars and muttering in
his queer, cultural voice. with many
clicks and grunts, and in an almost