The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1903-12-18


mood, and his heart feeling tones min
gled sadly with the gentle soughing of
the evening breeze in the dense foliage
on the margin of the placid Neosho
that flowed near by. Thus in the calm
enjoyment of his self imposed solitude
he lived with
The moss his bed, the cave his humble
CELL
His food the fruits, his drink the crystal
well.
Among the various languages neces-
sary for the communication of ideas
between the motley crowd comprising
the civilization of the then remote re-
gion there was none that Matteo Boo
calini did not understand and speak
fiuently, so liberal had been his educa-
ton in that particular.
Once when stabbed and dying Mex
lean, the victim of some gambling
quarrel among the drivers Of the bull
train to which he was attached, asked
a service for the repose of his soul
Father Francesca FASTENED to the anx-
ious mans side. There he admins
tered in the MeXican's own language
the last sacrament of the church to the
expiring creature, who died with a re-
signed look upon his face as he listened
to the absolving words he could per-
fectly understand, and this was thing
of joy to the holy man who had per-
formed the sacred Office.
One day late in the month of Octo-
Der, now nearly thirty-four years ago,
the hermit priest saw walking through
the streets of the little village dark
visaged person clad in clerical garb
and whom Boccalini believed to be
the lover of the woman he had wrong
ed in his youth and that the stranger,
if it were he whom he suspected, could
never be persuaded to think that Mat
teo was not wholly to be blamed for
the life he had blasted.
He told his friends he could no Ion
ger tarry with them. He would go away
to the mountains of New Mexico, seek
another cave, rear again the blessed
cross, emblem of his Masters suffer-
ing, and once more live in solitude,
from which here he had somewhat
strayed
He frequently when in a commune
cative mood had talked much to them
of the delights of absolute solitude
1t was, he argued, the nurse of enthu-
siasm; that enthusiasm was the parent
of genius; that solitude had always
been eagerly sought for in every age
1t was the inspiration of the domi-
nant religion of every nation; that the
founders of these religions were men
who, seeking the quiet and seclusion
of the desert and by subordinating the
flesh to the spirit, had visions of the
beyond; that the veil hiding the better
world had been lifted for them and
that their teachings had come down to
us through the cons, elevating man
above the brute.
The next morning after the sudden
ence had so discomposed the usually
calm priest, delicious morning in the
month of 'autumn's holocaust" when
the breeze was billowing the russell
colored grass upon the virgin prairies,
Father Francesca gathered up his few
precious relics and, accepting the es-
cort of caravan just ready to start
for New Mexico, left Council Grove,
his cave and the warm friends he had
made there forever,
The caravan under the protection Of
which the frightened hermit went
westward was owned by a Mexican
don, brother-in-law to Kit Carson. He
still resides near the spot where the
i'll fated Italian was, year or two aft
er his wearisome journey across the
great plains, hurried to eternity.
This venerable Mexican and old time
voyageur of the almost pbliterated
Santa Fe trail, when | last visited him
at his hospitable home in the noun
tains fourteen years ago, entertained
me by relating some of the more prom
inent characteristics of his strange
companion during that memorable
trip with the hermit priest from Coun-
Gil Grove more than twenty years pre-
viously. He said that the strange man
would never ride either on horseback
or in one of the wagons, despite the
earnest invitation extended to him
each recurring morning by the master
of the caravan, preferring to trudge
along uncomplainingly day after day
during the sunny hours beside the
plodding oxen through the alkali dust
of the desert.
Neither at night would he partake
of the shelter of the tent constantly
offered, but as constantly and persist
emily refused, preferring to roll himself
up in single coarse wrap, seeking
some quiet spot removed from the cor
raj of wagons, where for an hour or
two under the scintillating stars he
would tell off his beads or, accompa-
MED by his mandolin, chant some sad
refrain to the Virgin until long after
the camp had gone to sleep. For his
subsistence he himself caught and
cooked the prairie dog, ground squir-
rel, rattlesnake and gopher. Only &C.
casionally when hard pressed would he
accept a meal, which was constantly
proffered by the Mexican teamsters,
who begged the hermit priest to share
with them, for in their love for the
church to which they were so devoted
he seemed to their simple minds
most Jealous but humble exponent of
their religious tenets and the visible
form of their sacred faith.
Thus reticent, thoughtful and devout,
he marched with the caravan for many
weeks until at last the City of the Holy .
Faith. the quaint old Spanish town
Of Santa Fe, was reached. There he {
parted company with his escort and for