The Sauk Centre herald., 1909-03-11

and that the words you are about to pen
will bring Joy to my heart, faint with the
longing, and the waiting, and the dread
uncertainty. 1t was brave Of you to chal-
lenge fate alone I'm the wild mountain
Businesses, but rash-oh, SO rash!-to
limit yourself to one short year. have
faith in you, Aaron; believe in your
scientific knowledge. But even science
may pass by the gold you covet. Don't
you see it leaves too much to blind
chance?-that you have no right to put
me in the balance against Luck?
You don't know how I tremble as I
write and make ready my little packet.
and I pray that, for the sake Of your
pride and for the sake Of that thing men
call honor, the message you write VIII
be in script Of cleaning gold. But what
ever comes, whatever fortune brings you,
dear, do not deny me because OF that
foolish compact which binds no one other
than yourself. will wait. Come to me,
and we will win out together.
Lovingly, faithfully.
JANET SEWARD.
His fingers closed convulsively on
the letter, his head bowed hopelessly
and the darkest hour Aaron Whipple
ever knew descended upon him.
Science and trained acuteness had
availed him nothing; the everlasting
hills had Knocked every effort and the
glistening sands had laughed and held
close their secret boards of golden
grains. Time and time again he had
assaulted the fanks of granite noun
tains, delving with pick AMI shovel and
rude windlass; had burrowed deep in
sands Of promise, only to abandon and
hurry on with renewed hope, leaving
a tortuous and pock-marked trail a full
thousand miles long. behind him. Bit
ter defeat lay behind him; before him
lay the bitterest thing Of them all
the confession of failure to the woman
he loved.
But it was to do this very thing that
he had walked through the valley Of
death, and he faced his present, not
daring to venture even a little way
into the future. Awkwardly filling the
pen he tested the broad stub on his
thumb-nail-the, clerkly habit of years
-smoothed out the crisp sheets and
composed himself to write, the ink of
destiny flowing smoothly in firm,
heavy characters.
One page was filled, and Aaron in
stinctively glanced about for blotter
to take up the surplusage Of ink.
"Janet forgot that" he laughed trem-
ulously.
Impatient at the slight delay he took
up handful of fine, powdery sand
and sifted it over the letter. as his an
cestors had done from time immemor-
ial. The wind whipped away some as
it fell, the rest lingering thirstily.
Aaron raised the sheet to blow away
those fine particles remaining, when
suddenly his eye was caught and held
by several glistening yellow flecks ad-
herring to line and dot and character.
Gold! Gold!" he screamed, his eyes
a-glitter with the prospector's lust.
"Gold! Janet's prayer-fn script of
cleaning gold 1t can't be true. Dear
God, don't f1out me now"
Leaping to his feet, unmindful of
the exquisite agony, he caught up q
gold-pan from his comp utensils,
scooped It full of sand and waded into
the running stream. Dipping the pan
in the water he rocked it with the
miners peculiar cradling motion, tilt
ing so that the lighter stuff flowed out
with the waste, the heavier particles
pudding down to the bottom. AS the
water exhausted itself, he dipped up
more, always cradling rhythmically,
until there remained the final sediment
What? -
Aaron scanned the bottom Of the
pan with straining eyes, each muscle
set, each nerve tense as piano wire,
his breathing almost at standstill,
the blood booming in his ears. All!
A tremor ran over him as the gleam-
ing yellow grains of gold went rolling
and sliding and spilling about in the
thin film Of water. He began to count,
but fancy outstripped him.
"A hundred and fifty colors-200-
in one little PAM" he cried, utterly
unstrung by this miracle he had been
counting daily for weary year
In delirium of excitement he ran
far up the sandy bar and washed an
other pan; the yield was the same.
Like a wild thing he raced with the
stream to point far below, where
again the heavy yellow metal puddled
thickly in the pan. Ell Dorado lay as a
carpet under the feet of Aaron Whip
pie.
II have wont" he cried with a pas.
sionate gesture "The sands of Midas
All mine!-all mine!-and Janet's," he
added softly.
A piece of paper fiuttered along the
sands to his feet. 1t was her letter.
Reverently he picked it up. One turn
of tickle fortunes wheel, and how
differently those words called to him!
"Ah, yes, Janet" he whispered. Il
will write and write and write, and the
message will be in script of cleaning
gold"
How Sundaes Were Named.
Many queries with regard to the
origin of the word "Sundae" have been
made, and a considerable number OF