The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1908-06-25
A Tragedy OF Real
Life.

A<22SS
Haunting memories cast their shad-
ows about the mental faculties, for
mulate within the mind as cebwebs in
the hidden hooks Of parlor, and ad-
herring to the general custom it be-
comes apparently necessary to free
the mind of thoughts that constantly
fit thru it, dust the cobwebs from the
intellectual faculties, or depict the
mental scenes in penned apparel to
pass the gauntlet of human observa-
tiOn. 1t remains immateriaI, unessen-
tial to this narrative, whether or not
the reader believes; it is sufficient to
consider, momentarily reflect, (even
smile knowingly then pass on to the
consideration of sombre facts, stern
realities, or to duties of daily life.
However, it's said: "Truth is stran-
ger than felton,"
wood and Silver Creek, of western
state, dozen or more miners and cow
boys were smoking, conversing, and
| Willing away the evening hours Out
side the rain was literally pouring
down. Pacing to and fro about the
room was one Dave Allen, old-time
miner. A sudden peal of thunder fol-
lowed by flashes of lightning caused q
deep silence within the room. This
silence was broken by Dawes voice:
"Rude as my western life has been,
crude tho my ways, yet, pity even
the critters of the prairies that are out
such night as this. And my mind
roams back across the vistas of years
to the home of my youth Lean. see.
the face Of the dear one who filled q
mothers place to me in boyhood days;
can see my aunt's for such was the
only mother I've knOwn) sweet and
kind face lit up in praise of honors
won at school; plainly see her two
sweet-faced children of tender years,
hear them calling me in childish games,
coming for sympathy in petulant
moods or childish disappointments.
All! how the memory retains impress
sions, for even yet Lean recall my low
ing aunt's plans for my future. Finish
the course in the little red school
house, attend a school in a nearby
town, then course in college, after
which All honorable vocation would be
my field of life's endeavor."
, The rain fell, seemingly, harder on
the roof, the company remained quiet,
Dave paced with clenched fists and
contracted brow--fnally the landlord
said: "How come you to leave your
early home, Dave%' h.
: AS person suddenly surprised at
3 the notice of an imaginary ghost,
Dave stopped, his face grew ashen,
t the lips twitched, no sound could he
{ articulate, until in vindlctiye tones he
Q replied: "Woman, man, womanl"
: The raindrops battered louder on the
D roof, recovering his momentarily mood
I Dave continued with a smiie: "She
! was an innocent little creature with
d ruby lips and large black eyes which
!. fascinated the credulous farmer boys.
9 l was among her retinue of slaves, go
! to put it. Vain? Well 1 might reck-
o on, or plainly state she was girl of
d nineteen or twenty which about suf.
! fees to carry conviction of being vain.
As she taught the school, boarding
4 with my people, l. naturally became
. the idol of her heart-so thought
Life was some worth living during
y the fail term. Twas an apt pupil and
= the little school ma'am showered hel
!, sweetness along my paths. Finally
she returned to K where her folks
, lived, but after short vacation re
, sumed teaching. However, change
followed. 1t was Bert this, and Bert
= that! In few words the girl was en-
!. gagged to q city chap"
= Again Dave paced back and fortf
= soon continuing: "She had won-ant
:, gave condolences that, under the new
circumstances, made me decidedly dis
. . contented so with no fsrewells pAcket
y my grip and thru 9 pouring rain, il
pitchy darkness, just such q night g.
this, l left the boyhood home, brigh