The Intermountain Catholic. (Salt Lake City [Utah] ;) 1899-1920, 1902-08-16

altogether is a charming book in its
! green cover with here and there it's
! touch of practical philosophy, as for
I instance when the author says, Build
F., ing churches, collecting money and
! paying debts soon wear a man out. -
| One need not to remark that to this
sentiment every pastor will add an
amen.
Father Gibbons writes as entertain
ingly of the burro as he does of the
lion; and concerning the much-vaunt-
ed courage of the lions, he claims the
sound of a human voice fills them with
fright and they at once flee. To prove
his statement he relates this anecdote:
~ have known the case of a woman
still living in the western part of Colo
RADIO who had a thrilling experience
with mountain lion. She went out
into the field one day to dig potatoes
and took her baby with her, wrapping
it up and leaving it in the wagon close
TO which she was working. Looking
up she was amazed to see what she
took for large dog jump nimbly into
the wagon. GraSping the hoe. she ran
toward the wagon, screaming at the
top of her voice. The lion went up
toward the child, seized it by the
clothes and tried to carry it off: this
it could not easily do, as the child was
heavy and well wrapped in the blan-
ket. AS the woman approached the
wagon and the dog came running up,
the lion fled without making an at
tempt to fight
Billy Makers Death is one of the
most pathetic descriptions in the book.
closing with the words: Billy was
no more, and the little cabin beyond
the ocean in distant Tipperary would
never again be visited by one whose
fondest hope was that he might sit
once more beneath the matched roof
of his childhood home" Father Glib
bons occasionally lapses into rhyme.
Here are few good verses, entitled,
"A Miners Death
lis dreary tonight on the mountain
The starlight is hid in the sky;
The thick snow is falling and drifting
From each rugged peaks point on high.
a miner is dying and praying
That God in his mercy may send
The Soggarth Aroon to his cabin,
A sinner in need to befriend.
The JUNCTION has now touched the Chris
His Inns are still moist from the oil,
Scarce has abSoution been given
Nhen nature succumbS to the toll.
The Crucifix clasped to his bosom,
tear on his cheek lately shed.
a word for his mother and family,
The soul of the miner has fled.
Beside him we watched from the midnight
Till heaven unlocked the new day,
We laid him to rest on the hillside,
From home and dear friends far away.
There are SO many striking bits of
exquisite expression here and there in
this volume that the pen refuses 10
stop quoting. Describing a night ride
over, tho Rocky No
author says:
THE awful darkness which fell like
a pail over the canon and on the misty
waters of the Dolores, [ shall not for
get. The silence was broken at times
by the hoarse roar of the snowslide,
the short brak of the coyote and the
dismal wall of the mountain lion from
some neighboring cliff. l was riding
over ground consecrated by the hard
shops of the first Franciscans. who.
hundreds of years before, followed the
star of empire westward and named
the sparkling stream Dolores-'sor-
rowful.'
The modest little book closes with
lines written by p%et-priest friend of
the author, a description of Ouray.
There's a spot among the Rockies,
In Colorado's wilds.
Where the breeZes whisper music
And the midday sunlight smiles.
Where the mountains like grim wardens
Keep watch both night and day.
Where natures hand has placed them,
The guardians of Ouray.
Do You journey through the canyons
Tw1xt high and rocky walls,
And listen to the murmur
OF busy waterfalls?
Are you seeking health or pleasure
Mid the mountains old and gray2
You'll find the yearned-for treasure
In picturesque Ouray.
Do natures pictures tire
And the murmuring rillS?
Do you long for something homelike
Amid the towering hills?
Seek you a place to rest in
Where gentle calm holds sway
To soothe the weary spirit?
You'll find it in Ouray
Cleaner in Catholic Columbian.