News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1913-07-23
CHAPTER II.
The Trevor Accident.

] lIN CNOi FtSStN~IiLS
| N. B.--Mr. Smith, while living alone,
had a habit of writing long letters to
| his mother. After his mothers death
the habit continued, but as the let.
tiers could not be sent by mail, and
to post them in the stove seemed to
suggest unpleasant ideas, they were
slowed in his saddle wallets.
Dear Mother in Heaven:
There's been good money in this
here packing contract and the wad in
my belt-pouch has been growing till
Doctor McGee suspecks a tumor He
thinks I'll let him operate, and sure
enough that would reduce the swell
ing.
Once a week I take my little pack
outfit up to the Skyline claim for a
load of peacock copper. 1t runs three
hundred dollars to the ton in horn
silver and looks more like jewels than
mineral. Iron Dale's cook, Mrs. Jub-
bin, runs to more species of pies and
cake than even Hundred Mile house,
and after dinner get a rim-tire cigar
w IllSl pups ilhC q SlCtChCAI w llliC SAb
in front of the scenery and taste the
breath of the snow mountains. Then
| load the ponies, collects Mick out
of the cook house, which he's partial
to for bones, Iron sings me the mail
pouch, and l hits the trail l aim to
make good bush grass in the Yellow
pines by dusk, and the second day
brings me down to Browns Ferry,
three miles short of my home. From
the ferry there's a good road in win
ter to Hundred Mile House, so tote
the cargOes over there by sleigh.
There my contract ends, because Tear.
full George takes on with his string
team down to the railroad. I'd have
that contract, too, only fearful isl a
low-lived sort of a person, which can
feed for a dollar a week, whereas
when l get down to the railroad I'm
more expensive. !
Your affectionate son, JESSE.
Rain-stOrm coming.
P. S.-Yes, it's a good life, and ]
don't envy no man. Still it made me
sort of thoughtful last time as l swung
along with that Jones mare smuggling
at my wrist, little Mick swapping rear
heels astern, and the sun just sCOTch'
ing down among the pines. Women Us |
infrequent, and spite Of all my eZpe- !
riences with the late Mrs. Smith, |
most fortunate deceased, life amt all
complete without a mate It amt no |
harm to any woman, mother, if just |
varies off my trail to survey the sur
rounding stock.
Mrs. Jubbin passes herself off for
a widow, and all the boys at the nine
take notice that she can cook. Apart |
from that, she's homely as barb-wire |
fence, and Bubbly Jock, her HUSBAND,
amt deceased to any great extent, be-
ing due to finish his sentence along In
October, and handy besides with a
rifle.
Then of the three young ladies at
Eighty Mile, Sally is a sound PROPOSE
ton, but numerously engaged to the
stage drivers and teamsters along the
Cariboo Road. Miss With. the school
ma'am, keeps a widow mother with
tongue and teeth, so them as smells
the bait is ware of the trap. That's
why Miss With stays single. The
other girl is a no-account young per
son. Not that I'm the sort to shy at
a woman for squirting, the same being
quite persistent with sound morals,
but l hold that a person who
scratches herself at meals amt never
quite the lady. She should do it prl-
vate.
There's the Widow O'Flynn on the
trail to Hundred Mile,-she's harsh,
with a wooden limb. Besides she