The Sauk Centre herald. (Sauk Centre, Stearns County, Minn.) 1886-current, 1900-02-01


with somber coating of brown mud,
two little panes being. let into the walls
for windows. Behind it were the
''sheep kraals" and to the right a large
dam, now principally containing baked
mud. Far off the little 'kopje" con-
cealed the homestead and was not it.
self an object conspicuous enough to
relieve the dreary monotony OF the
Landscape.
Before the door sat Gregory Rose in
his shirt sleeves, on a camp stool, and
ever and anon he sighed deeply. There
was that in his countenance for which
even his depressing circumstances fail
ed to account. Again and again he look
ed at the little "kopje," at the milk
pail at his side and at the brown pony,
who a short way of cropped the dry
bushes-and sighed.
Presently he rose and went into his
house. 1t was one tiny room, the
whitewashed walls profusely covered
with prints cut from The illustrated
London News, and in which there was
a noticeable preponderance of female
faces and figures. A stretcher filed
one end of the hut and a rack for
a gun and a little hanging looking
glass diversified the gable opposite,
while in the center stood a chair and
table. All was scrupulously neat and
clean, for Gregory kept little buster
folded in the corner Of his table drawer,
just as he had seen his mother do. and
every morning before he went out he
said his prayers and made his bed and
busted the table and the legs Of the
chairs, and even the pictures on the
wall and the gun rack.
On this hot afternoon he took from
beneath his pillow watch bag made
by his sister Jemima and took out the
watch. Only half past 4! With sup
pressed groan he dropped it back and
sat down beside the table. Half past 4!
Presently he reused himself. He would
write to his sister Jemima. He always
wrote to her when he was miserable.
She was his safety valve. He forgot
her when he was happy, but he used
her when he was wretched.
He took out ink and paper. There
was a family crest and motto on the
latter. for the Roses since coming to
the colony had discovered that they
were of distinguished lineage: Old
Rose himself. an honest English farm
er. knew nothing of his noble descent,
but his wife and daughter knew-espe-
cinlly his daughter. There were Roses
IN England who kept park and dated
from the conquest. So the colonial
Rose farm became Rose manor in re-
membrance Of the ancestral domain,
and the kAaim of the Roses to noble
blood was established-in their minds
at least.
Gregory took up one of the white,
crested sheets, but on deeper ref1ec-
ton he determined to take pink one,
as more suitable to the state of his
feelings. He began:
Kopje Alone, Monday Afternoon.
My Dear Jemima-
Then he looked up into the little
glass opposite. 1t was youthful face
reflected there. with curling brown
beard and hair, but in the dark blue
eyes there was a look of languid long
ing that touched him. He redipped
his pen and wrote:
When look up into the little glass that hangs
opposite me, wonder if that changed and sad
face
Here he sat still and reflected. 1t
sounded almost as if he might be con-
ceited or unmanly to be looking at his
own face in the glass. No. that would
not do. So he looked for another pink
sheet and began again.
Kopje Alone, Monday Afternoon.
Dear Sister-It is hardly six months since l left
you to to this spot, yet could you see
me / know what you would say. | know what
mother would say, ':Can that be Greg-that
thing with the strange look in his eyes?''
Yes, Jemma, it is your Greg and the change
has been coming over me ever since l came here,
but it is greatest since yesterday. You know
what sorrows l have passed through, Jemima;
how unjustly always treated at school, the
masters keeping me back and calling me a block
head, though, they themselves allowed, had
the best memory Of any boy in the school and
could repeat whole books from beginning to end.
You know how cruelty father always used me,
calling a noodle and milk sop just because
he couldn't understand my fine nature. You
OF minister, as 1 ought TO nave been. lou
IL al, JeiiilLla anu HoW nave DOTne IL
not as a woman, who whines for every touch. but
as a man should-in silence.
But there are things there Is a thing, which
the soul longs to pour forth into kindred ear.
Dear sister, have you ever known what it is to
keep wanting and wanting and wanting to kiss
some ones mouth, and you may not; to touch
some ones hand, and you cannotP / am in love,
Jemima.
The old Dutch woman from whom I hire this
place has little stepdaughter, and her name be-
gins with E.
She is English. / do not know how her father
came to marry a Boer woman. 1t makes me feel
30 strange to put down that letter that l can
hardly go on writing-E. I've loved her ever
since l came here. For weeks have not been
able to eat drink. My very tobacco, when I
smoke, has taste, and can remain for no
more than five minutes in one place and some
times feel though were really going mad.
Every evening / 60 there to fetch my milk.
Yesterday she gave me some coffee. The spoon
fell on the ground. She picked it up. When
she gave it me, her finger touched mine. Je-
NINA, / do not know II fancied i'll shivered
hot, and she shivered tool thought: ut Is all
right. She will be mine. She loves me!'' Just
then, Jemima, in came a fellow, a great, coarse
fellow, German-a ridiculous te1tow, with curls
right down to his shoulders. u makes one sick
to look at him. HIS only a servant Of the
Boer woman's and low, vulgar, uneducated
thing that's never been to tboarding school in
his life. He had been to the neat farm seeking
sheep. When he came in, she said: GOOD even
ing, Waldo. Have some Coffee and she kissed
him. ! >s.ra
All last night I heard nothing else but "Have