The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1924-05-30
ZEN OF THE Z. d.

cent from her mind to consider the
more urgent matter of breakfast.
Tompkins, the cook, had not needed
Transley's suggestion to put his best
foot forward when catering to Y ID. and
his daughter. Tompkins' soul yearned
for cooking berth that could be oc-
cupied the year round. Work in the
railway camps had always left him
high and dry at the .freeze-up-dry,
particularly, and few nights in Cal
gary or Edmonton saw the end Of his
seasons earnings. Then came a pre-
carious existence for Tompkins until
the scrapers were back on the dump
the following spring. A steady job,
cooking on ranch like the Y.D.; If
Tompkins had written the Apocalypse
that would have been his picture Of
heaven. So he had left nothing I'M
done, even to despatching courier
over night to railway station thirty
miles away for fresh fruit and other
| delicacies. Another of the gang had
been impressed into a trip up the river
to a squatter who was suspected of
nSSpihS oHS VI Two lullCu COWS anu
sundry hens.
This way, ma'am," Tompkins was
waving as Zen emerged from the grove.
Another of our usual mornings. Hope
you slep' well. ma'am" He stood def
erentially aside while she assembled the
three steps that led into the covered
wagon.
Zen gave little Shrek of delight,
and Tompkins felt that all his efforts
had been well repaid. One end of the
tablet was with a sore heart Tomp-
kins had realized that he could not
cut down the big table-one end Of
the table was set with a clean linen
cloth and granite dishware secured I'M
til it shone. Besides Zen's plate were
grapefruit and sliced oranges and
real cream
However did you manage it?" she
gasped.
"Nothing's too good for Y.D.'s daugh-
ter was the only explanation Temp
kips would offer, but, as Zen after
wards said, the smile on his face was
as good as another breakfast. After
the fruit came porridge, and more
cream; then fresh boiled eggs with
toast; then fresh ripe strawberries
with more cream.
"Mr.-Mr-"
"Tompkins, ma'am; Cyrus Temp
kins," he supplied.
"Well, Mr.. Tompkins, you're a won
der, and when there's a new cook to
be engaged for the Y.D. l shall think
Of you"
Indeed wish you would, ma'am,"
he said, earnestly. This road works
all right, and nobody ever cooked for
better boss than Mr. Transley-sav-
in it would be your father, ma'am-
but I'm a man of family, an it's pref
~ hard"
Family. did you say, Mr.. Tompkins?
How many Of family have your !;
well, it's sseven years since heard
from them-I haven't correspondent
very regular of late, but they was
six
The story of Tompkins' family was
cut short by the arrival of a team and
moving machine.
Whats up, Fred?' called Temp
kins through window of his dining
car to the driver breakfast Is just
over, an dinner amt begun"
For answer the man addressed as
Fred slowly produced an iron stake
about eighteen inches long and some
what less than an inch in diaDeter.
What kind of shrubbery do you
call that, Tompkins? he demanded.
well, it amt buffalo grass, an it
amt bronze grass, an / don't figger
it's alfalfa" said Tompkins, medita-
lively.
NO, and it amt grub stake" Fred
replied, with some sarcasm. "It's
iron stake, CROWN right in a nice
little clump Of grass, and l run on to
1t and bust my cuttin'-bar all to-
that is, all to pieces" he completed
rather lamely, taking Zen into his
glance.
Il think follow you,' she said, with
smile. Can you fix it hereY
wipe. nave " 20 10 Town IOr
new one. Two days lost time, when
every hour counts. Hello! Here
comes someone else"
Another of the teamsters was draw
ing into camp Hello, Fred" he
said, upon coming up with his fellow
workman, you in too? I had a bit of
bad luck. / run smash on to an iron
stake right there in the ground and
crumpled my knife like so much SOAP
II did worse" said Fred, with a
grin. II bust my cuttin'-bar."
The two men exchanged a steady
glance for half minute. Then the
newcomer gave vent to a long, low
whistle.