The Yale expositor., 1913-03-20

loughby, his dogs crouched about his
feet, looked into the fire. his attentive
gravity broken now and then by a
slow smile. Mrs. Perley, after hear
ing the chapter which describes Mrs.
Gargery's methods Of bringing up Pip
by hand" attended regularly with
the remark that sit was a queer sort
Of book. but some way or other she
| liked It," When Cora was forced to
leave to attend to her duties In the
dining-room, she tore herself away
with murmurous reluctance. The doc
tor slipped In at the third reading and
asked Rose If she would lend him the
book In the morning Ito read up what
he had missed" Even Perley's boy.
In his worn corduroys. his dirty,
chapped hands rubbing his cap against
his nose, was wont to side noiselessly
! in and slip into seat near the door.
The climax of the day was the long
evening round the fire. There was no
reading then. IL was the mems hour.
and the smoke of their pipes and CT
gars lay thick in the air. Cut off from
! the world In this Granny of the noun
tains, with the hotel shaking to the
| Bullets Of the wind and the snow blan-
ket pressing on the pane, their men,
cries swept back to the wild days OF
their youth, TO the epic times OF from
tiersman and pioneer
| The Judge told OF his crossing the
| plains in forty-seven and the first Nor
! mon settlement on the barren shores
| of Salt Lake. He had had encounters
| with the Indians, had heard the story
| OF Olive Oatman from one who had
| known her. and listened to the sinis
| ter tale Of the Dcnrer party from a
survivor. Bill Cannon had come by
the Isthmus" In forty-eight, half
| starved, ragged lad who had run away
from uncongeDial drudgery on a New
| York farm. His "reminiscences went
back to the San Francisco that had
started up around Portsmouth Square.
! to the days when the banks of the
American River had sWarmed with
miners, and the gold lay yellow in the
prospector's pan. He had worked
there shoulder to shoulder with men
who afterwards made the history of
the state and men who died with their
names unknown. He had been an eye
witness of that blacklist of Californian
tragedies, the Lynching of a Spanish
girl at Downieville, had stood pallid
and sick under pine tree and
watched her boldly face her murder
ers and meet her death.
The younger men, warmed TO emu
lation, contributed their stories. Per
ley had "reminiscences bequeathed TO
him by his father who had been an
alcalde in that transition year, when
California was neither state NOR terri
tory and stood in administered neg
| lect, waiting for Congress TO take
some notice OF her Buford told sto-
ries of the vicissitudes Of q strolling
players life. He had been in the
Klondike during the first gold rush
and told tales of mining in the North
to match those Of mining on the
mother lode" Willoughby, thawed
out of his original shyness, added to
the nights entertainments stories of
the Australian bush. grim legends OF
| the days Of the penal settlements at
| Botany Bay. Young Ryan was the
only man of the group who contribut-
ed nothing to these Sierran Nights
Entertainments. He sat silent in his
chair. apparently listening. and. under
| the shadow OF the hand arched over
his eyes. looking at the girl opposite.
But the idyl had to I'D. Their cap
tivity. passed into It's third week, and
signs that release was at hand cheered
them. They could go out. The streets
| Of Antelope were beaten into foot
paths. and the prisoners. with the en-
thusiasm of children liberated from
school. rushed into open-air diversions
| and athletic exercise. The first word
| from the outside world came by re-
stored telegraphic communication.
! Consolatory messages poured in from
San Francisco. Mrs. Ryan, the elder,
sent kilograms as long as letters and
showered them with the prodigality Of
an impassioned gratitude on the
| camp. Perley had one that he could
not speak Of without growing husky.
| Willoughby had one that made him
blush. Dominick had several. None,
|
he guessed that none had been sent
her, his remark to Rose to "let her
alone" having been taken as a wish to
spare her anxiety. 1t was thought that
, the mail would be in now in a day or
two. That would be the end of the
fairy tale. They sat about the fire
on these last evenings discussing their
letters, what they expected, and whom
they would be from. No one told any
more stories; the thought of news
from the outside" was too absorbing.
1t came in the early dusk of an aft
ernoon near the end Of the third week
Dominick, who was still unable to
walk. was standing by the parlor win
dow. when he saw Rose Cannon run
past outside. She looked in at him
as she ran by. her face full CT Joy
Gus excitement, and held up to his
gaze small white packet A moment
later the hall door banged. her foot
sounded in the passage, and she en-
| tered the room with rush OF cold air
| and q triun, DhaDt cry Of.