The Laurens advertiser. (Laurens, S.C.) 1885-1973, 1904-06-08

~ VWEN was undoubtedly WHO
W and. as the Sky Pilot said,
SS=SN1 willful and wicked. Even
J Bronco Bill and III Kendall
would say SO. without, OF course, aDat-
ing ono jot OF their admiration for her.
For fourteen years she had lived
chiefly with wild things. The cattle
on tho range. wild rs deer, the coyotes,
The jack rabbits and the timber wolves
were her mates and her instructors.
From these she learned her wifi ways.
The rolling prairie of the foothill coun-
try was her home. She loved 1t and
all things that moved upon it with
passionate love, the only kin she was
capable of. And all summer long she
spent hnr days riding up and down
the range alone or with her father or
with Joe or, best OF all, with the Duke,
her hero and her friend. So she grew
up strong, wholesome IL self reliant,
fearing nothing alive and as untamed
as q ycarling range colt.
She was not beautiful. The winds
and sun had left her no complexion to
speak of, but the glory of her red hair,
gold red, with purple sheen, nothing
could tarnish. Her eyes, too, deep
blue with rims of gray, that flashed
with the CLINT of steel or shonc with
melting light as of the stars, accord
ing TO her mood those Irish, warm,
deep eyes Of hers were worth q mans
looking ut.
OF course, all spoiled her. Ponka and
her son Joe grovclcd in abjcctcst adora-
ton. while her father and all who
, ,ritl,fn tn,.l, 90 I,nr .;n,,l, ltI
her will. Even the Duke, who loved
her better than anything else, yielded
lazy, admiring homage to his Little
Princess, and certainly, when she stood
straight up, with her proud little gold
crowned head thrown back, flashing
forth wrath or issuing impcrious com
mands, she looked n princess, all Of
her.
1t was n great day and Il good day
for her when she tiShcd the Sky Pilot
out of the Swan and brought him home,
and the night of Ovens first
'praycrs." when she heard for the first
time the story of the Man of Nazareth,
was The best Of all her nights up to
that time. All through the winter,
under the Pilots guidance, she, with
her father, The Old Timer, listening
near, went over and over that story so
old now TO many, but ever becoming
new, till II whole new world of mysteri-
GUS powers md prcscnces lay open to
her Imagination and became the home
Of great realities. She was rich In
Imagination and, when the Pilot read
Bunyan's immortal poem, her mothers
old "Pilgrim's Progress" she moved
and lived beside the hero OF that tale,
backing him up in his fights and con-
sumed with anxiety over his many i'm
pending pcrils, till she had him safely
across the river and delivered into the
charge of the shining ones.
The Pilot himself, too, was q new
and wholesome experience. He was
the first thing she had yet encountered
that refused submission and the first
human being that had failed to fall
down and worship. There was some
thing in him that would not always
yield, and, indeed, her pride and her
imperiouS tempcrs he met with surprise
n sometimes with q pity that verged
toward contempt. With his she was
not well pleased and not ~infrequently
she broke forth upon him. One of
these Outbursts Is stamped upon my
mind, not only because of its unusual
violence, but chiefly because Of the
events which followed. The original
cause of hcr Iuge was some trifiing
misdced OF the unfortunate Joe; but
when ! came upon the scene 1t was
the Pilot who was occupying her at
t%ention. The expression OF surprise
and pity on his face appeared to stir
her up.
Chow dare you look at me like
tbatT" che cried.
"How very extraordinary that you
can't keep hold of yourself better" he
answered.
NJ cam" she stamped. "And l shall
do as I like!'
ut is a great pity" he said, with
provoking calm, land, besides, 1t 10
weak and silly" His words were un-
fortunate.
Weak she Gasped, when her
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