Shoshone journal. [volume] (Shoshone, Idaho) 1884-1931, 1904-07-01
BY JEANKATE LUDL UM
Anfhor ef ~ a Ciyis M<yey." E.

10 lie In That hole OF room Jay III,
day out, was growing unbearable;
nothing to do but watch the bit of sky
and mountain through the tiny win
dow, the scent Of the pines stealing
through, or, closing his eyes, to think,
think, think his narrow thoughts that
never got away from the mountains,
the smithy, the tavern, and the town,
until he was driven nearly wild by
the thoughts that no one else ever
knew, though those who were with
him most guessed nearer the truth.
The thin face, grown pallid with
confinement, would narrow and seem
to contract, the small eyes, set deep
and close together, grew cruel and
cunning, the coarse mouth under the
scant mustache closed with sinister
meaning. For hours he would lie in
the same position, scarcely moving.
his long hands grown bony, clutching
convulsively the bed covering. And to
those who watched with eyes sharp
ened with interest all these actions
were full of meaning, and proved
much that had but been guessed be-
fore.
AS time went by the men at the
tavern got over their stiffness and
dropped in occasionally through the
days, one or another, to have chat
with Johnson, but mainly to see how
he bore his affection and to know for
themselves how much better off that
girl Of Johnson's was, since her faith
er's brother Lemuel-he who left the
settlement years beforehand returned.
Many an hour in the wide, low room
at the tavern, or beside the door of
an evening, they discussed Johson's
condition, and freely expressed their
doubts and views as to his recovery
in spite of DR.. Dunwiddie's assertion
over in the town among his friends at
Judge Green's, also discussed John
sons condition, and decided with them
that it was time something was done,
and done speedily, or it would be too
late.
Spare no pains nor expense, Dun
widdie," urged Lemuel Johnson, pacing
up and down the pleasant parlor at
Judge Green's, his hands clasped be-
hind him, his f1orid face and kindly
eyes full of anxiety. "Joe's got won
derful constitution; always did have;
sinews like steel when we were young
sters. This illness has been heavy to
bring him down so. Surely there is
some way of Fastening his recovery,
and we must find it-you must find it.
He's got to have a fair chance for
place in life, comfortable. like other
men, and not end it all that way.
Why, it's death in life over yonder.
It's buried in a grave large enough to
turn around in, but it isn't life. No
wonder he's lost all ambition staying
there with everybody around him
duller and more listless than he. ex-
cepting of course Dolores. She's a
body one wouldn't meet always. Joe
doesn't appreciate her because he's
incapable of judging out of such
batch of comrades as he's got there.
That Lodie's good enough sort of
man-make an intelligent man if he
had chance-but, my powersi such
a life for man or woman. Where
was born, too, and not school house
or church in the place, and my own
brothers child ignorant of even the
catechism or the existence of God.
Do your best for him, Dunwiddie
never mind the cost. Money is moth
ing compared to a life worth living.
You start him on with lair show of
strength, and I'll do the rest. He's
the only kin have In the world-he
and the girl-and the Lord knows
there isn't a man in the world who
wouldn't do all he could for such.
Ln,. Dora?"