The Ekalaka eagle. [volume] (Ekalaka, Mont.) 1909-1920, 1913-11-07

must do the rest. Nature has provided
a mineral spring, grapevine swings
and croquet-even the wickets are
wooden. You have Art to thank only
for the fiddle and guitar music twice
a week Mt the hop in the rustic pa
vilion.
The patrons of the Eagle House are
those who seek recreation as a neces-
slty as we'll as a pleasure. They are
busy people,. who .mpy be likened to
clocks that need a fortnight's winding
to insure a years running of their
wheels. You will find students there
from the lower towns. now and then
an artist or a g%eolo-ist absorbed in
constituting the ancient strata Of the
hills. 4 few quiet families spend the
summers there, and often one or two
tired members Of that patient sister
hood known to Lakelands as SCHOOL
marms."
A quarter of a mile from the Eagle
House was what would have been de-
scribed to its guests as IAN object of
interest," in the catalogue. had the
KS AoNISC 1SSC0u Il tdtdlOeuC. HI
was an old. old mill that was no long
er a mill. In the words of Josiah Ran
kin. 1t was the only church in the
United States, sab, with an oyershot
wheel. and the only mill in the world.
sab. with pews and a pipe organ"
The guests Of the Eagle House attend
ed the old mill church each Sabbath
and heard the preacher llken the pu-
rified Christian to bolted -four ground
to usefulness between the millstones
OF experience and suffering.
Every year about the beginning Of
autumn there came to the Eagle House
.Abram Strong, who remained for
a time an honored and beloved guest.
In Lakelands he was called Father
Abram.' because his hair was so
white, his face so strong and kind and
ford. his laugh so merry. and his
black clothes and broad hat SO priestly
in appearance. Even new guests aft
er three or four days acquaintance
gave him this familiar title.
Father Ahram came a long way to
Lakelands. He lived in a big. roaring
town In the northwest. where he own
ed mills. not little mills with pews and
an organ in them. but great. ugly,
mountain-like mills that the freight
trains crawled around all day like
ants around an ant heap. And now
you must be told about Father Abram
and the mill that was a church, for
their stories run together.
In the days when the church was a
mill Mr.. Strong was the miller. There
was no %jollier, dustier. buster. happier
miller in all the land than he. He
lived In a little cottage across the road
from the mill. His hand was heavy,
but his toll was light, and the noun
taineers brought their grain to him
across many weary miles of rocky
roads.
The delight Of the miller's life was
his little daughter. .Aglaia. That was
toddler, but the mountaineers love
sonorous and stately M The
mother had encountered it somewhere
in a book, and the deed was done. In
her babyhood Aglaia herself repudi-
ated the name, as far as common use
went, and persisted in calling herself
"Dums." The miller and his wife
often tried to OAK from Aglaia the
source Of this mysterious name, but
without results. At last they arrived
at a theory. In the little garden be-
hind the cottage was a bed Of rhodo-
dendrons in which the child took a
peculiar delight and interest. 1t may
have been that she perceived in
"Dums" a kinship to the formidable
name Of her favorite flowers.
When Aglaia was four years old she
and her father used to go through a
little performance in the mill every
afternoon that never failed to come
off, the weather permitting. When
supper was ready her mother would
brush her hair and put on a clean
apron and send her across to the mill
to bring her father home. When the
miller saw her coming in the mill door
he would come forward, all white with
the -four and dust, and wave his hand
and sing an old miller's song that was
familiar in those parts and ran some
thing like this: .
The wheel goes round;
The grist is ground;
The dusty miller's merry.
He sings all day.;
His work is play
While thinking Of his dearie.
Then Aglaia would run to him,
laughing, and call, Dada. come take
Dums home.' And the miller would