Walker Lake bulletin. (Hawthorne, Nev.) 1883-1926, 1899-01-04

l L CuIllt " PASS lildt tnClC NtlC WI
unto Ezra and Lucy Whittlesy, two
- boys, William and John. who grew
to youths estate on the old farm in
Oakland County.
John was home boy. His happlest
days were those on which he hoed and
weeded. With William 1t was differ
ent. He was like unto neither his
mother nor his father. He was just
William. He read. long into the night,
by the Kerosene lamp In the sitting
room, stories Of adventure and of
youths going forth into the world in
search of fortune aud of fame. He
longed for a wider field He dreamed
of conquests. of piles of gold, of ex-
plorations into unknown countries,
and of experiences in life such us never
entered the mind Of plodding John.
The days, the weeks, the months,
rolled on around the spool of time and,
with each bright breaking sun, more
and more discontinued and dissatisfied
did become the restless William. His
days were centuries long. There was
always shining before his eyes the star
of ambition which he was of a mind
to follow more than once. He detested
the sorry life of the farm, with the
homely environment, the old, old rou-
tine, day in, day out, and finally, after
several years of uncomplalning servi-
tude, he determined to run away.
He was IS then. or two years he had
saved every penny, every nickel, every
dime, that had fallen In his way, and
ere long noted that the dollars were
taking care of themselves In little
company of their own. There were
fOrty-twO of them In the stone jar on
the shelf at the head of his bed.
The sun was sinking behind the
western horizon on the fateful night of
Williams departure. There, by the
little window in the store room where
he slept with the peaceful, sweet-cOn-
tented john he sat on cane-seated
chair beside the bed, his forty-two dol
lars spread out on the quilt before him.
Il will do itr' he exclaimed to him
self in the dim darkness. Il will do
it"
His thoughts were broken In upon
by the cry of woman down below,
at the foot Of the stairs,
"William! william. it's time to 90 for
the milk"
"Ah, me-" murmured the boy to him
SELF another night has come, but it
shall be the last. For many years has
1t been my duty to go down the dusty
old road to Green's for the evening
milk. cannot see why father does not
maintain a dairy, or ut least one cow,
of his own. But, no, l must trudge,
trudge on through snow, through sun
shine and through rain to that old farm
house nearly two miles down the turn
pike for milk. But this shall be my last
walk"
"William! William. amt yew ever go
In fur that milk!
Again the feminine voice from the
foot Of the stairway.
Yes, mother. I'm comm now."
The boy dropped all the forty-two dol
lars into his trousers pockets, and, after
placing the stone jar back on Its shelf
at the head Of the bed, slowly sham
bled down the stairs.
.Theres tn pail, William said his
mother, pointing toward the table
drawn up by the kitchen window.
william took 1t and passed out into
the deepening darkness.
He was alone on the road. The stone
walls on either side showed indistinct-
Iy yellow gray In the fast gathering
darkness. Now and then William
would stoop and pick up stone and
fling 1t idly toward n bush whence
came the note Of nlghtbird crying to
its mate. He stumbled once or twice
and murmured something under his
breath each time. As he walked down
that road the whole eighteen years Of
his monotonous existence, called Life.
unrolled themselves before his minds
ewes. He remembered the old swim
ming hole. the eager hunts for birds
nests In the days agOne. the stone
brulse" he carried to school with him
all one spring, and the beech whistles
he used to make at recess. And the
squirrel hunts and the games Of youth,
all the different scenes of his life were
enacted again for him In the playhouse
of his memory. And at the end he said
TO himself, "Well, 1t Is over now, for
tonight shall go away. Never again
will William take home the nights
milk. This Is my last walk
His mind was set, determined. He
stumbled along the rocky path to the
milk house on Green's farm, and stood
by. silently, while the hired man filled
his pail, then he trudged back over that
country road. The moon was rising.
Already a soft, silvery light iecked the
foliage of the woods on the left, and
cast shImmering shadows on the stone
walls.