Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1899-10-07

| The boys who are TO be married
make d sham attack, with great deal
/ of noise, on the school about o'clock
in the morning:
Brewster, of course, Is ready for
them. lie has bagged the girls with
out much ceremony the night before,
but when the diggers seize them the
outcfy and struggle is dreadful. Nov
! II you think it is easy TO walk off with
girl In a bag you are welcome to
! try it, but would advise you to prac-
| tice the trick with cats first, bearing
in mind that the heads are free.
"Of course, the girls soon give il up
and allow themselves to be carried to
the wheelbarrows that are in waiting
for them.
Then procession is formed, with
! Mr.. and Mrs. Brewster at the head OF
it, and wheelbarrows following in sim
gle file.
"When they arrive at the diggings
the whole population turns out, and
| the fun begins. But they soon get
! tired of parading and shouting and
drinking healths, and adjourn to the
market place, where the ceremony Is
/ performed.
Mr.. Brewster's marriage service is
| like any other service, only the key to
| the paddock takes the place of the ring,
and when the key is handed to the
groom the knot is supposed to be tied,
and the happy husbands wheel their
! treasures off in different directions,
amid a shower Of rice and boots, when
such can be found.
"'Now, Rollins continued my
friend, when you get to the fields just
call on Gus Parker, who keeps a store
there, and he will tell you anything
shout the nightgowns that may have
! forgotten. Furthermore, he will in
troduce you TO his own nightgown,
for that is just what they call these
precious wives.
"'You mustn't blame the diggers
too much, either. Perhaps when you
have dug and scratched in sand and
hot gravel for two or three years,
hunting for gold that isn't there, you
will be only too glad TO get one of
Brewsters nightgowns to share your
misery
"The following morning set out on
my journey again, and at parting Tom
kins said to me:
'Good-by, old fellow, look in again
on your return from the fields, and
don't forget the "Antiquary." You
know what likely husband you would
make for her. And so, with hearty
laugh, we parted"
CHAPTER V.
There is yet another picture which |
must throw upon the canvas before |
go any further for the reason that the
pathos and the pity of the thing re-
main with me to this day.
IL was shortly after the Boer doctor
had handed in his verdict and the sun
at the time was high in the heavens.
A hot wind blowing across the Neidt
took hold of the dust on the winding
wagon road, curled it up into fantas-
tic eddies, whrls and clouds, revealing
in this way the long line of travel for
miles and miles into the distance.
Out of this binding dust storm one
at time, or perhaps a dozen in
string, came the Kaflirs from the dia-
mond fields and elsewhere, all of them
burdened with blankets, brass wire
and guns, homeward bound to the
Kaftir lands.
Hans and / stood idly before the
store watching this strange and mot
lev procession. Presently an unusual
object came along. 1t was n Kaffir
woman.
She was evidently Zulu wife, from
the long, loose robe of hide which was
around her. She appeared to be tired
and footsore, and she carried bundle
Of clothes on the end of stick which
was thrown over her shoulder.
She sat down by the side of the road
and rested herself there for over an
hour.
She was such n forlorn looking OBJ
iect that our curiosity became arous-
ed at last, and Hans went over TO her
to see if she was in any trouble. Of
course Hans can talk Zulu like a ma
tive. lie carried on quite conversa-
tion with her, asking her many ques-
tons, and finally began to look over
some papers which the little woman
took out of her bundle.
Afterward Hans gave her a bounti-
full meal and n quantity of food to
carry away with her, and then she
continued her journey. But before
she set out Hans asked me to go over
and look at her face. | did so. Well, |
think | have seen misery depicted on
many a white face, but here was a
poor little black woman with more
concentrated sorrow in her eyes and
expression than | ever imagined it
possible to crowd into q single human
countenance, and when / came to
know the cause and the reason for it,
all my wonder was at an end. After n
| L. 4 - Ill
all about her, he was unwilling to say
q word until he had carefully exam
ined the contents of a notebook and a
bundle of letters which the woman
had given him, and then in his own
inimitable way he gathered all the
threads of the little tragedy together
and gave it to me almost in the follow
ing words:
His name was Bob. At any rate,
that is enough of it for our purpose.
He was born in Scotland somewhere,
and his mother was a devout, hard
working widow with number of
children to feed and educate.
Robert was her first born.
1T is quite easy to understand the
situation. When Bob was Is years of
age he was compelled to GO out into
the world to earn his bread single
handed and unassisted, as many a
good man had done before him. Now
when he parted from his mother she
said to him:
Robert, promise me that you will
never drink, never swear and never
forget to say your prayers every night
before you go to bed
Mother, dear, said Robert, by
this parting kiss l promise
after while Robert drifted to
Durbap, in Natal. He worked hard,
saved little money, bought an outfit