Perth Amboy evening news., 1912-01-09

~tU @$s1Nst&& Nt%1ds
too closely. Curiosity was neither
safe nor necessary. II he areused tran
silent interest or speculation It soon
died away. He vanished into the
mountains and as he cams no more
to that place, he was Dor forgotten.
Withdrawing from his fellow anen
and avoiding thsir society, this man
was never SO satisfied as when alone
In the silent hills. Hts heart and spirit
rose with every step he maae away
from the main travelled roads or the
more difficult mountain trails.
For several days he 1ourneyed
through the mountains, choosing the
widest and most inaccessible parts
for his going. Amid the cenons and
peaks he threaded his way with un.
erring accuracy, ascending higher and
higher until at last he reached the
mountain aerie, the lonely hermitage,
where he made his home. There he
reveled In his isolation. What had
been punishment. expiration, had at
last become pleasure.
Civilization was bursting through
the hills In every direction, railways
were being pushed hither and thither.
the precious metals wers being dis
covered at various places and after
them came boards OF men and with
them-God save the lnark-women;
but his section OF the country had
hitherto been unvisited even by hunt
ers, explorers. miners or pleasure
seekers. He was glad, az he had
grown to love the spot where he had
made his home, and he had no wish to
he forced, ike little Jee, 10 move on.
Once q man who loved the strife,
noble or tgnoble. OF the madding
crowd, he had grown accustomed to
silence, habftuated to solitude. Winter
and summe alike he roarned the
mountains. delying into every forest
exploring every hidden canyon, n
mounting every Inaccessible peak; no
storm, no snow, no condition of wind
or weather dauated him OF stopped
him. He had no human companion
ship by which TO try his mettle, but
nevertheless over the world OF the
material which lay about him he was
y master as he was a man.
He found some occupation, too, In
the following OF old Adams inherit
ance; during the pleasant months of
summer he made such garden as he
could. His profession Of mining IL
sineer gaye him othsr employment.
Round about him lay treasures ines-
Unable, precious metals nbounded In
the hills. F1e had located them, tested,
analysed. estimated the wealth that
was his Tor the taking--it was as val
ueless to him an the doubloons and
golden guineas were to Selkirk on his
island. Yet the knowledge that 1t WAS
there gave him an energizing sense or
potential power, uncenseiously enorm-
ously ~fatsering To his sef-esteem.
Sometirnes he wandered 10 the ex-
treme verge of the range and On clear
days saw far beneath him the smoke
of great cities OF the plains. He
could be master among men as he was
a master among mountains, IL he
chose. On such occasions he laughed
cynicaliy, scornfully. yet rarely did
his aver give way to such emotions.
A great and terrible sorrow was
upon him: c~herishing a great passion
he had withdrawn himself from the
common lot to dwell upon 1t. From
q perverted sense OF expiatlon, Ia q
madEess or grief. horror and despair.
he had made himself a pr oner to hts
In the desert OF tbs mountains.
Back to his cabin he would hasten.
and there surrounded By bis living
mem0ries--deathfess yet OF the deadi
-ha would recreate the past until de-
drove him abroad On the hills
to meet God II not omar
sunshane-shadcw. heat-coId.
sterm-calfns these were hts life.
Having dtsburdened his fAithfni AMI
OF thsir packs and having seen
tham safely bestowed for tha 3iasar
In ths corral he had built near the
oas6 of the ssiif upon which his rude
home was situated. he took hia rifle
ems morning tor a OF those lonely
walks across ths mountains from
which he drew such comfort because
De fzncled the abasRes OF man con
auced to tho zagrns ! Of Sod. Ig waa
! desuasoa SIS cid neariy as the Chris
saaA g~i5Sfsa. Eaay sA& asaa@ sAsna-
hsrxntE@ III tina past In renaoTaa
for ain aad tor lovs tcwsrd God shIs
Eaaa had buried hlmssat In the slider.
aeEe tie s&ss Tor sse nrse Of these