Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1900-04-19
THURM0NT Frederick County, Maryland Thursday April 10, 1900.
A
MlIloqg|ln|lQaiq
D)geaaIIn!1,
BY JOSEPHINE A. BOWEN.

YVES. l will tell you the story.
i Throw few more logs into the
stove, will you? Cold out doors?
Cold? | suppose &C; thermometer 40
below, but I'm blest if l feel it much.
Your mountain is wonderful to me.
Been living on it ever since came west.
Oh, we soon get used to it, and then
our only wonder is how we ever con-
sented to live where the deadly damp
and chill is like a chronic ague. No
more If it for me. The valley states have
their good features, of course-orchards
and corn6elds and all that-good to
look at when there are no mountains in
sight; but of what use would they be
here? Plenty of fruit to be had if you
want it. Cad. how I used to work when
I was kid. Wading through the black
soil of Illinois, dropping corn as soon as
had shed my dresses; then covered
and hoed and plowed and husked until
| got disgusted, Gu: the whole business
and lit out.
Wasn't cut out for king OF the
sail, ehT
King of nothingl If a boy wants
taste of Inferno let HIM live on u farm
and have Dutchman fer father.
Granted; but perhaps you inherited
from your good German ancestors the
artistic talent which enabled you to ct
on 80 well after you did cnt and rum
Well, may be SO. Atany rate have
no quarrel with the old man now. He
likes his farm and his fat catvle-I like
my den here in the mountains, and my
paint and brushes So here | mean to
stay. Pile on some more pine. Jim. |
tell you you might freeze to death and
never know it,
Smooth way to pass over the range
to Paradise But, say, Gus, don't you
eat here7 am as hungry as a bear
Eat? Open that oven door and take
Whit. That is the finest roast of ven-
son in Montana, and ranch potatoes
which are a poem. Nealy done, old
man. Here, let me set the table: two
plates, two knives. two glasses, and
there you are--or would you like some
coffee? Have it ready N three minutes.
| Talk about the rehnements of civilizt-
tionl | suppose you newspaper fellows
have to have printed program with
your grub, "a napkin and silver fork
and all that sort Of trumpery; but as for
me, give me liberty or give me death.
Supper is ready. Better keep your hat
on.
'All right, that doesn t bother me any
but say, Gus, give me that story.
That is what am here for, and | have
just got two hours to get back to Hele-
na.'
You're going to stay al! night or no
story. ! don't haye a visitor often, |
can tell you. and you don't give ME the
cold shake. Stay till morning get a
good snooze once IN your llfe-you look
as il you needed it-and will see you
over the range in time to catch the $50
train. Is it a go?
Well, | guess so. | ought to be in
Denver in thirty six hours. but | will
trump up some lie to satisfy the mana
Ger if am too late for the Sunday issue
BY the way, Gus, what happy life
yours is. Sleep as long as you phase,
dress as you please, eat when you are
hungry and work when the fit comes on.
Happy mani
That's all right. Jim-for me. You
would loath yourself in IA week, if you
should try it. Don't quarrel with your
destiny. You are man of action
your place is in the world. am a
dreamer, a mixer of paints and-a
failure.
"A failure, are you? if you could hear
the comments on your picture and the
stir it has made in Denver, you would
sing another tune l swear. You would
be as proud as a peaoock-and. by the
way, | was to ask you if she was for
SALE
Who? Oh, my pictured No; not if I
was starving. That picture is part of
my life, Jim. My hearts blood miexd
the colors on that canvass, and when
Helmer begged the loan OF it for
month did not suppose that he was
going to place it on exhibition for lot
of idiots to gahble over.
'Of whom | am the thief
Not at al, Jim. | know YOU have a
heart, although you may not believe it,
or l would never tell you the story of
my Mountain Dream.
We'll, proceed. l will admit the
heart if you will get down to business