Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1899-12-14
JUNGLE PAUL'S NEPHEWS.
By Ruth Ransom.

ton, four passengers alighted. as the
train made its momentary pause-a
stout elderly man, I'm black, with his
stout elderly wife; a tall, STOPPING
young man, with eyeglasses, and II
book under his arm; and an erect, griZ-
zle-headed parsonage. in an ancient
butternut-colored coat and II NANCY
fur cap.
'Eh-whatY' crustily demanded this
gentleman, as the driver of the one
horse team-who had come down in
the forlorn hope of turning an honest
penny out of somebOdy-proffere his
services. Ride, What should | ride
for? Haven't | got Il pair of legs of
my OWN"
"Why-yes-sir,'' said Jethro Cam
man, slowly surveying the sturdy
limbs, Il s'pose you have. Most folks
have, unless they've been so unfortu-
nate as to meet with an accident. But
It's comm on for a good old-fashioned
snow-storm."
Let 1t snow.-let il snOw"' briskly
interrupted Mr.. Paul Copperfield. II
amt afeard of snow! And | guess
way
= So saying, he pulled the brim of the
fur cap an inch or two more oyer his
eyes, and set off up the hill.
Jethro Camman got into his carry-all
and drove away, for he knew that
Squire TOpliff and wife would sooner
walk ten miles than pay ten cents, and
was likewise well aware that Percival
Pipford, the theological student, had
theories OH the subject of physical ex-
Prcise that precluded all ideas of horse
hire
, "Humph! humph" grunted old Mr..
Copperfield to himself, as he trudged
up the hill, whose steepncss nearly
took away his breath. chow ones life
is made up of contrasts. Regular mo-
sale pattern, as they say in Florence!
Here am /, after twenty years in China
and ten In Europe, back again among
the very old huckleberry pastures and
stone walls used to know as a ragged,
barefoOted boy. It's surprising how
little things have changed! I'm the
only one that is changed-worse luck!
Thirty years! I'd give all the gold I've
made-yes, and welcome-to be the
bartfooted boy once more bringing the
three red cows home at night, with
nothing in his pocket but holes!
was rich then-rich i'm thousand
things that have melted away from me
since like morning mists in the sun
shine-Faith Hope, Charity, and all
the better part of ones life! Heigho-
was that fake of snow?'
Slow and soft, the floating flakes be-
gan to cloud the air. and the winter
night was setting down over the bleak
landscape in earnest.
II don't care!' said old Paul Copper
field, plodding on. There's n warm
welcome waiting for me, if l may trust
my nephews letters. There's-let me
see, do / turn off here? or ought I to
go on to the next cross roads? Things
have changed so just hereabouts. the
old stone mill gone, the finger post
taken uown-nothing rs il used to be-
Well, I'll risk it. Whew! how fast it
SHOWS. l believe it's settling down
for northeastern
AS the old man stood. puzzled and
undecided, light streamed from a farm
house window across the bleak fields.
I'll go there and inquire" said old
Copperfield. 1T can't be far, anyhow,
and both the boys live night together
somewhere"
Climbing over the stone wall, not
quite as brlskly as he used to do fifty
years ago, Paul Copperfield hurried
across the fields to the house and rap
ped on the door. 1t swung open on
creaking hinges, revealing an interior
Of ruddy candlelight and blazing logs.
'Who is 1t, Simon?" squeaked n
shrewish female voice. "Tell him TO
go about his business! We've got
nothing for trampsv'
Simon Copperfield. n sharp nosed,
scant whiskered individual, hesitated.
with his hand on the door.
Old Paul eyed him keenly beneath
the brim Of the NANCY fur cap, and
said:
II am poor traveller friend; / ask
only nights lodging"
And our best bed room all made up
for Uncle Paulr shrilly uttered the
woman by the fire. "a pretty notion
that would be! Simon. why don't you
shut the door? Go about your bust
ness, man! We don't keep tavern, me
and my husbandv'
Don't you hear what my wife SAYS?
Clear out!' said Simon, grufiy.
And the door was shut unceremoni-
ously in the travellers face.
Old Paul smiled sardonically to him
self In the storm and darkness.
''Pll try my luck little further"
said he. half aloud. my nephew ST.
mon evidently doesn't believe i'm the
scripture theory of entertaining angels
unawares. Well, well-it's but a step
or two further on; and that's lucky
for me. My old bones ache and my
head feels dizzy-like. Let us see now
what Herman will say to the old way
farIna man? This must be the house.
where the light shines out 50 cbeerily