Canyon City news. (Canyon City, Tex.) 1903-1908, 1905-01-20

hustllng pine wood rover.
A peavey hook it Is my pride:
An Ak l well can handle;
To fell a tree or punch bull
Get rattling Danny Randall"
And then, with rattle and crash. the
whole Fighting Forty shrieked out the
chorus:
"Bung yer eyel Bung yer eye!"
Active, alert, prepared for any emer
gency that might arise; hearty. ready
for everything, from punching bulls to
telling trees-that was something like!
Thorpe despised himself The song
went on:
II love a girl In Saginaw:
She lives with her mother.
defy all Michigan
To find such another.
She's tall and slim: her hair is red;
Her face Is plump and pretty.
She's my daisy Sunday best-day girl.
And her front name stands for Kitty"
And again, as before. the Fighting
Forty howled truculently:
"Bung yer eyel Bung yer eye!"
The words were vulgar, the air a
mere minor chant. Yet I!orpe's mind
was stilled. His aroused subconscious-
ness had been engaged in reconstruct
ing these men entire as their songs
voiced rudely the inner characteristics
of their beings. Now his spirit halted
Their bravery, pride of caste. resource,
bravado, boastfulness-all these he had
checked off approvingly. Here now
was the idea of the mate. Somewhere
for each of them was Kitty" q
daisy Sunday best-day girl" At the
present or in the past these woods
roisterers, this Fighting Forty. had
known love. Thorpe rose abruptly and
turned ut random into the forest. The
song pursued him as he went.
"I took her to a dance one night.
A mossback gave the bidding;
Silver Jack bOssed the shebang,
And Big Dan played the fiddle.
We danced and drank the livelong night,
With fights between the dancing,
Till Silver Jack cleaned out the ranch
And sent the nossbacks prancng."
And with the increasing war and
turmoil of the quick water the last
shout Of the Fighting Forty mingled
family aud was lost.
"Bung yer eyel Bung yer eye"
Thorpe found himself ut the edge OF
the woods facing little glade into
which strcameu the radiance Of full
moon.
There be stood and looked silently,
not understanding, not caring to in
UUre. Across the way Il White'thront
was singing. clear. beautiful, like the
shadow Of dream. The girl stood
listening.
Her small. fair head was Inclined
ever so little sideways and her finger
was on her lips rs though she wished
to still the very hush Of flight, to which
impression the inclination of her sup
pie body lent it's grace. The moon
light shone fun upon her countenance.
a little white face it was with wide.
clear eyes and a sensitive, proud mouth
that nov half parted like child's.
Her eyebrows archtd from her straight
nose in the peculiarly graceful curve
that falls just short Of pride on the
one side and Of power on the other
to fiji the eyes with Il pathos of trust
and innocence. The man watching
could catch the pose Of her long white
neck and the molten moon fire from
her tumhlcd hair the color Of corn
silk but liner.
Behind her hirked the low, even
shadow of the forest where the moon
was not. y bnnd of velvet against
which the girl and the licht-tonched
twigs and bushes and grass blades
were etched like frost against black
window pane. There was something.
too, of the frostwork's evanescent spir-
itual quality in the scene. as though at
any moment. with huff of the balmy
summer wind. the radiant glade. the
lowering figure. tho iligreed silver of
the entire setting would melt into the
accustomed stern and menacing forest
of the northlaud. with its wolves and
| its wild deer and the voices of its
sterner calling.
J Thorpe held his breath and waited.