Year: 1874

| START SchOOl. Inlnk OF 1t O school
at Sandy Gulch. Well, do you suppose
that they did not want school at the
principal town of the territory? We're
there no calcula ions to be made in the
great future of the Gulch? Undoubt-
edly.


It must not be thought for one mo-
ment that there were no children at
Sandy Gulch indeed, there were more
than at any place we had visited in the
mountains-plenty of women and chill
dren but few wives. Yes, dear reader,
it was a sad state in which Mr.. May
found society, when he came to preach
and try, in the name of his Master, to
redeem the Gulch. Poor Jack ! as he
died, blessed his children, and the black
haired, black-eyed woman, who had
been wife, in the eye of the law, but
few hours. True, she loved him all
the same, and sat moaning and rocking
herself back and forth as though she
would shake the burden of grief from
her shoulders. TIE ere were children,
there was to be a school, and we were
expecting Miss Grey to teach it. Be
ing in the position we were, and occupy
ing large place in the confidence of
Mr.. May, be informed us that his board
had determined to send Miss Grey. She
was not personally known to us, nor
had we ever seen a photograph of the
lady. But it was no trouble for us to
fancy all that she must be, as we will
create some form for the person present
ed to our minds usually. Pretty women
don't go to Sandy Gulch to teach, es-
pecially young, manageable ladies !;
their charms are too great for them to
think of hiding from an admiring
world entirely for the worlds sake.
These facts common sense dictated to
our minds.


So we prepared-as we awaited the
coming of the mail-for a tall, thin,
quadrangular female, with long, thin
face, watery, weak ey, s, sharp nose,
straddled with, perhaps, gold specta-
cles, drab travelling dress, blue woolen
stockings, and list shoes-though we
scarcely expected a glimpse of them-a
bottle of cold tea in one hand and
blue cotton umbrella in the other. We
waited, kicking our toes in the sand,
thinking alternately of a leader for
the Weekly and Miss Grey.


We saw the mail whirling down the
grade, and thought with lively satisfac-
ton of our position in the society of
Sandy Gulch, that gave us tie privilege
of welcoming congressional aspirants,
members of the Legislature, and that
old maid school-dame.


As the maid neared us we saw brown
hood with blue lining, and the sweetest
ace it had ever been our fortune to
laughing, the fair shiny hair-not dead,
but vivacious, smiling hair-a sweet lit
tie mouth, whose lips looked the very
couch of love, her face soft and round
like a child's.


active. The crowd did not try to sup
press their Joy, but gave prolonged
shout of welcome. 'tAin't she a stun
rer, thought " Pwettyer than a chunk
of pure gold!" "Darned if I ever
seed anything so trim !" were some few
of the compliments that greeted her,
while we stood rooted to the ground.
Mr.. May had advanced hat in hand,
and offered her a word of quiet welcome.
We could say nothing. Some common
place remark filled moment, and we
went to our office to write an article on
popular Education" and a fiattering
notice of her arrival. Then we began
to think we had been hasty in leaving
so soon. This was probably the great
est editorial error we ever made. We
did not think how much effect kind
word or quiet act of attention would
have, or we too should have carried her
bundles to Mrs. SINNERS, where she
was to board. But we did not, and Mr..
May did.


The summer passed.


L - h
school house up the Gulch, passed Miss
Grey. The mountains were glorious in
their varied hues of autumn. And Miss
Grey was equally lovely in her beauty.


Why was it our heart beat more rap
idly and our tough cheek glowed when
she came near?


Why did we feel so backward about
coming forward and walking home with
Miss Grey, as she came each evening
down the little path, swinging her sun
bonnet by the strings?


He was not backward, but cool and
self-possessed. He met her and walked
where we so much wanted to be-by
her side. We discovered that we dis
liked Mr.. May. He was growing abso-
lutely odious to us. We never saw
him walking slowly up the Gulch
toward the school-house that we did not
have this feeling.


We came from our walk one evening
in the early part of spring, and saw
Mr.. May placing blossoms in her hair,
and then-kissed her


Well, we sigh as we think of it, there
in the wild west, so near where the sun
set on our love years ago.


People spoke of his goodness, and
one red-shirted admirer had sworn in
our presence that shed die for that'ere
preacher. You ought seed him, mis-
ter; just ought seed the way he
nursed my partner when he got cut up
at Peters Bailic-him and that school
marin helpin' him." Aye, we found
that we disliked him-because he liked
her.


We found that with perfect harmony
of soul these hearts had met and min
gled.


We were alone. Rev. Milton May
won "Miss Grey, of Sandy Gulch."