Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1918-11-28

liie iHoillluS. AIIer Il time, Wnen ner
appetite was partially satisfied, she
took to glancing over his kitchen.
There seemed to be some adjunct Of a
kitchen missing. A fire burned on a
hearth similar to the one in the living
room. Pots stood about the edge Of
the fire. But there was no sign of a
| stove.
Bill finished eating, and resorted to
cigarette material instead Of his pipe.
swell, little person." he said at last,
"what do you think of this joint OF
mine, anyway"
"Tve just been wondering" she re-
piled. II don't see any stove, yet you
have food here that looks as if it were
baked, and biscuits that must have
been cooked in an oven."
"You see no stove for the good and
sufficient reason" he returned, "that
you can't pack a stove on a horse-and
we're three hundred odd miles from
the end of any wagon road. With a
Dutch oven or two-that heavy, round
iron thing you see there-I can guar
antee to cook almost anything you can
cook on a stove. Anybody can if they
know how. Besides, I like things bet
ter this way. If I didn't, I suppose
I'd have a stove-and maybe a hot-wa-
ter supply, and modern plumbing. AS
1t is, it affords me a sort of prideful
satisfaction, which you may or may
rot be able to understand, that this
cabin and everything in it is the work
Of my hands--or stuff I've packed in.
here with all sorts of effort from the
outside. Maybe I'm a freak. But I'm
proud Of this place. Barring the in
evitable consequences that comes now
and then, I can be happier here than.
any place I've ever struck yet. This
country grows on one"
"Yes-on ones nerves." Hazel re-
torted.
Bill smiled, and, rising, began to clear
away the dishes. Hazel resisted an i'm
pulse to help. She would not work;
she would not lift her finger to any
task, she reminded herself. He had
put her in her present position, and he
could wait on her. So she rested an
elbow on the table and watched him.
In the midst of his work he stopped
suddenly. ,
"There's oceans Of time to do this"
he observed. "I'm just a wee bit
tired, if anybody should ask you. Let's
camp in the other room. It's q heap
more comfy"
He put more wood on the kitchen
fire, and set a pot of water to heat.
Out in The living room Hazel drew her
chair to n side of the hearth. Bill
sprawled on the bearskin robe with an
other cigarette in his fingers.
"No," he began, after a long silence,
"this country doesn't get on ones
nerves-not if one is a normal human
being. You'll find that. When I first
came up here I thought so, too; it
seemed so big and empty and forbid
ding. But the more I see of it the bet
ter it compares with the outer world,
where the extremes Of luxury and want
are always in evidence. 1t began to
seem like home to me when I first
looked down into this little basin. I
had a partner then. I said to him:
Here's a dandy, fine place to winter
So we wintered-in a log shack sixteen
foot square that Silk and Satin and
Niger have for q stable now. When
summer came my partner wanted to
move on, so I stayed-stayed and be-
gan to build for the next winter. And
I've been working at it ever since,
making little things like chairs and
tables and shelves, and fixing up game
heads whenever I got an extra good
one. And maybe two or three times a
year I'd go out. Got restless, you
know. I'm not really a hermit by ma
ture. Lord, the things I've packed in
here from the outside! Books-I hired
a whole pack train at Ashcroft once to
bring in just books; they thought I
was crazy, l guess. I've quit this place
once or twice, but I always come back.
It's got that home feel that I can't find
anywhere else. Only it has always
lacked n important home qualifica-
tion," he finished softly. "Do you ever
build air castles?"
mo-" Hazel answered untruthfully,
uneasy at the trend of his talk. She
was learning that Bill Wagstaff, for
all his gentleness and patience with
her, vas q persistent mortal.
"Well, I do" he continued, upper
turbed. Lots of 'em. But mostly
around n thing-a woman-a dream
woman-because I never saw one that
seemed to fit in until I ran across you"
"Mr. Wagstaff," Hazel pleaded,
won't you please stop talking like
that? 1t isn't-it isn't"
"Isn't proper, I suppose" Bill sup
piled dryly, "Now, that's merely an
error, and a fundamental error on your
part, little person. Our emotion and
instincts are perfectly proper when you
get down to fundamentals. You've got
an artificial standard to judge by,
that's all. And 1 don't suppose sou
have the least idea how many lives are
spoiled n way and another by the
mn ~ tSNSN &c