Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1905-03-17

a grape house, on the other a conserva-
tory, filed with the most brilliant col
ored plants The rays of the morning
sun We're slanting brightly across the
scene, and imparting to it the most
joyously cheerful air.
How different to the house have
just left!p l thought
Pretty place, isn't it?' said the old
gentleman.
"Sweetly pretty" murmured.
He led the way into a little low
rooted room, dsrkened by the overhang-
ing blossoms that hung thickly over the
latticed window. 1t was comfortably,
indeed, handsomely, furnished. The table
was laid for breakfast. A second cup
and saucer and plate were soon produced
by kind-looking, middle-aged woman,
and was soon sitting before substan-
tial meal of eggs and bacon, and cold
beef, to be washed down by plenty Of
strong coffee. Never had food been so
grateful to me before, and l certainly
lid ample justice to it. l could per-
GIVE that my host every now and then
:ast a curious glance at me, as though l
presented something of a puzzle to him.
Now, if l might be permitted to haz-
ard guess, / should fancy you were
something in the parsOn line" he said,
leaning back in his chair.
disclaimed the honor.
We'll, it was the long hair and the
queer-looking black clothes that put that
idea into my head; and you look so seri-
GUS for lad of your years. have IT.!
You're a school usher"
l confessed that his last guess was
correct.
''Ah, poor fellow! No wonder you
look so miserablep' he said, compassion
ately. 1T must be a hard life, and a
badly paid one; and l suppose you've
left your place? Where are you going
now?"
Il am going to the CITY,"
you've friends there, 1 supposeT
81 have one, sir, who think will help
me-"
He must have thought me very close
and churlish, to be so sparing of my an
swers after his kindness; but the fact is,
that / was undecided at the moment
whether should make a clean breast of
all my troubles to him; he seemed so
kindly hearted that felt sure he would
pity me. But the natural reticence of
my disposition, rather than any feeling
of mistrust prevented me.
But you're not going to walk?" he
questioned
"Yes, sir. l have no other means of
getting there. l have a suit Of clothes
in this bundles that l intend to sell as
soon as | come to a town." / faltered.
The old gentleman paused, and looked
very hard at me--seemed, for moment,
to revolve an idea-and then said,
Leave the clothes with me. don't
want to look at them 1 will lend you
five dollars. That will take you to your
friend, and leave some money to boot
in your pocket. Any time you bring me
or send me the money you shall have
your clothes back again. A mile and a
half from here is the railway station.
In half an hour a train will stop there.
You will be able to catch that comfort
ably. l will walk a little distance with
you, and put you in the right path. Stop
a minute, and I'll bring you the money"
Without waiting to listen to my fer
vent thanks, he left the room Never
in my life had l felt so light-hearted and
hopeful.
rose from the chair to take the
clothes out Of the handkerchief and
smooth them, as they must have been
somewhat crumpled by doing service as
a pillow; also to take out the change of
linen which / could not do without. In
doing so, my eyes fell upon a portrait
hung in a dark corner of the room. 1t
was that of woman, with bright au-
burn hair, transparency fair complexion,
blue eyes, a very beautiful, pensive face,
with something in it that came back
upon me like a memory. 1t seemed to
me that / had seen that face somewhere.
While | stood trying to remember, the
old gentleman re-entered the room.
"Ah, you're looking at my poor girls
portrait" he said, in a sad voice.
Your daughters, sir?"
'Yes-niy only one"
as she still living?" asked, some
what hesitatingly.
"She has been dead these eighteen
years." he answered, sorrowfully.
Il must be mistaken; l was only an
infant in arms at that time" l thought.
He gave me the money, but would
not listen to my thanks.
tut, tutp' he said; that's nothing.
I'd give you more. if really knew you
were all right; but 1 have been so often
taken in that I'm doubtful of everybody
now. But l like your looks; but I've
liked others that have been the property
If great vagabonds."
(ro be continued.)
The New DiSDeDSo.Io-