The pioneer press. (Miller, Hand County, S.D.) 1893-190?, 1900-10-04
!, nan-stev and veSison chops, Of which

L
sat waiting, Munroe, the good attend
ant, brought him whisky punch; ne
/ saw the Strawberries float on the delec-
i table cup, he heard the ice chink about
| the straws. And then he awoke again
| to his detested fate, and found himself
sitting, bumped together, in wlndy
combe of quarry refuse-darkness
| thick about him, thin flakes or snow
| flying here and there like rags OF pa
per, and the strong shuddering OF his
| body clashing his teeth like hiccougn.
| We have seen John in nothing but
| the stormiest conditions; We have seen
him reckless, desperate, tried beyond
his moderate powers; of his daily self,
cheerful, regular, not unthrifty, we
have seen nothing; and it may thus De
a surprise to the reader, to learn that
ne was studiously careful OF his health.
| This favorite preoccupation now
awoke. If he were to sit there and
| die of cold, there would be mighty lit
tie gained; better the police cell and
| the chances of jury trial, than the
| miserable certainty of death at dixie
| side before the next winters dawn, or
! death little later in the gas-lighted
| wards of an infirmary.
He rose on aching legs, and stumbled
| here and there among the rubbish
| heaps, still circumvented by the yawn-
ing crater of the quarry; or perhaps he
| only thought so, for the darkness was
| already dense, the SLOW was growing
| thicker, and he moved like blind
| man and with blind mans terror
| At last he climbed fence, thinking to
| drop into the road, and found himself
| 5taggerlng among the iron burrows Of
4 plowland, endless, it seemed, as a
| whole county. And next he was in
| he wood, beating among young trees;
| md then he was aware Of house with
many lighted windows, Christmas car
riages waiting at the door, and Christ
mas drivers (for Christmas has dou-
BILE edge) becoming swiftly hooded with
| snow. From this glimpse of human
| cheerfulness, he fled like Cain; wan
| dered in the night, unpiloted, careless
! Of whittier he went; fell, and lay, and
then rose again, and wandered fur
| her; and at last, like transformation
| scene, behold him in the lighted jaws
| Of the city, staring at lamp which had
already donned the tilted night-cap OF
| the snow. 1t came thickly now, a
Feeding Storm" and while he yet
| itood blinking at the lamp, his feet
| we're buried. He remembered some
thing like 1t in the past, street-lamp
,rowned and caked upon the windward
tide with snow, the wind uttering its
| aournful boot, himself looking on. even
| IS now; but the cold had struck too
sharply on his wits, and memory failed
him as to the date and sequel of the
Renaissance.
His next conscious moment was on
he Dean Bridge; but whether he was
John Nicholson of bank in a Cali
fornia street, or some former John,
clerk in his fathers Office, he had now
clean forgotten Another blank, and
ne was thrusting his pass-key into the
door-lock of his fathers house.
Hours must have passed Whether
| crouched on the cold stones or wan
dering in the fields among the snow,
was more than he could tell; but hours
had passed. The finger of the hall
clock was close on twelve; a narrow
peep of gas in the hall-lamp shed shad-
ows; and the door of the back room
his fathers room-was open and
emitted warm light. At so late an
hour, all this was strange; the lights
| lould have been out, the doors locked,
he good folk safe in bed. He marveled
at the irregularity, leaning on the hall
table: and marveled to himself there:
and thawed and grew once more hun
cry. in the warmer air of the house.
| The clock uttered its premonitory
catch; in five minutes Christmas day
would be among the days of the past
Christmas!-what Christmas! Well.
there was no use waiting: he had come
into that house, he scarce knew how:
II they were to thrust him forth again.
1t had best be done and at once; and
he moved to the door of the back room
and entered.
Oh, well, then he was insane. as he
had long believed.
| ITO BE CONTINUED,
/