Capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1919-1980, 1922-12-23
By PETER B. KYNE

For the first time in sixty years
Pablo Artelan, the majordomo OF
the Rancho Palomar, was troubled
Of soul at the approach of winter
Old Don Miguel Farrell had OBJ
served signs of mental travail in
Pablo for q month past, and was
at loss to account for them. He
knew Pablo possessed one extra
pairs of boots which young Don
pairs Of boots witch young Don
Miguel had bequeathed him when
the Great White Father at Wash
ington had summoned the boy tC
the war in April of 1917, three
chambray shirts in an excellent
state of repair, half of a fat steer
jerked, full bag of Bayo beans,
and string of red chilli-peppers
pendant from the rafters of an
adobe shack which Pablo and his
wife, Carolina, occupied rent free.
Certainly (thought old Don Mi
guel) life could hold no problems
for one of Pablo s race thus pleas
antly situated.
Coming upon Pablo this morn
ing, as the latter sat in his fav-
orite seat under the catalpa tree
just outside the wall of the ancient
adobe compound, where he could
command a view of the white
wagon-road winding down the
valley Of the San Gregorio, Don
Miguel decided to question his
ancient retainer.
Mourns for Young Son
My good Pablo" he queried,
what has come over thee of late ?
Thou art of mien as sorrowful
as that of a sick steer. Can it be
that thy stomach refuses longer
to digest thy food? Come; permit
me to examine thy teeth. Yes. by
my soul; therein lies the secret.
Thou hast toothache and decline
TO complain, thinking that, by thy
silence, l shall be saved dentists
BILL But Pablo shook his head
In negation. Comet" roared old
Don Miguel. open thy mouth!''
Pablo rose creakily and opened
a mouth in which not tooth was
missing. Old Don Miguel made a
most minute examination, but
tailed to discover the slightest
evidence Of deterioration.
Blood of the devil!" he cried
disgusted beyond measure. "Out
with thy secret! It has annoyed
me for a month"
"The ache is not in my teeth
Don Miguel. 1t is here.o And
Pablo laid swarthy hand upon |
his torso. There is a sadness in
my heart, Don Miguel. Two years
has Don Mike been with the SOL
diers. Is it not time that he re-
turned to us?"
Don Miguel's aristocratic old
face softened. $50 that is what
disturbs thee, my Pablo?"
Pablo nodded miserably, seated
himself, and resumed his task of
fashioning the hondo of new
riata.
Even Quail Migrate
:" 1t is very dry year. " he com
planned. "Never before have
seen December arrive ere the
grass in the San Gregorio was
green with the October rains
Everything is burned; the streams
and the springs have dried up.
and for month l have listened to
hear the quail call on the hillside
yonder. But listen in vain. The
quail have moved to another
range. -
Well, what of it, Pablo?D
How our beloved Don Mike en-
Ioyed the quail-shooting in the
fall! Should he return now to the
Palomar, there will be no quail to
shoot. = He wagged his gray head !
'orrowfully. Don Mike will
.hink that, with the years, lazi-
1ess and ingratitude have de-
icended upon old Pablo. Truly,
Satan afflicts me. /" And he cursed
With great depth of feeling-in
English. {
eyes, poor boy" old Don I,
Miguel agreed; "he will miss
more than the quail-shooting ?
when he returns-if he should re-
urn. They sent him to Siberia to :
light the Bolshevlki."
''What sort of country is this