8
THE BATTALION.
I am all alone, and am I am powerful glad
you have come along, for I was beginning
to get lonesome and longing for the old
places and friends back in old Kentucky.
My cabin is just over yonder under the hill
(pointing), on a rich claim o’ mine; and I
tell you I’ve got already a good saving hid
away under the hearthstones. Come, take
this, drink to our friendship and new life,
and hie away to our little home by the
hillside, where we can breathe the fresh
mountain air, with hearts light and free,
digging the yellow metal all the day long,
forgetting and forgiving those who have
wrecked our hopes and blasted our lives.
It’s going powerful hard with you for a
little while, Arthur, to be yer own wash
woman, yer own cook, chambermaid and
waiter, and to dig all day long for a hand
ful of gold. But you’ve got the grit, and
you will soon get hardened into it. It will
somewhat remind you of our old cadet
days, but a very much rougher and quieter
life.”
‘‘Well, never mind, Claud, I’m willing,
and will follow you.”
They walked on down the winding foot
path toward the little cabin, and as they
went Claud told all about the place and the
miner’s life ; of its trials, vicissitudes, joys
and pleasures, and planned for their future.
After reaching the cabin preparations were
made for Arthur’s comfort. A visitor
came over after the night was on—a miner,
like themselves—who once knew better
days. He spent the night with them. The
morning dawned, the ist day of January,
18—, New Year’s day. Breakfast over,
the three started for the store, which was
several miles away, to purchase Arthur’s
outfit. Tne three grew to be fast friends,
mining in the mountains of California long
ago.
^ # sK >!< *
Oh, could Arthur have read further on
in that Christmas morning’s paper in D
he would have learned that it was Ethel’s
cousin that had wed young Hampton; and
could he have seen a beautiful girl as she
stood waiting in the warm, cosy parlor,
with the curtains pushed back from the
window, looking out for him, with his tele
gram pressed close against her pulsing
heart of love on that glorious Christmas
morn; could he have heard that sigh of
joy, and that whisper, “Arthur is coming
for me today,” he would have believed in
woman’s love, and loved more dearly.
“KATHLEEN MAVOURNEEN” IN TEXAS.
I had stopped with the boys at the mess
hall of the Texas Agricultural College. I
had given my third lecturette to them in
their chapel; and then I jumped in a dinky
little iron bed, put my tired head on a tick
pillow, with seven straws in it, and had
four hours good sleep. Then, at 2 a. in.,
came a knock at the door and Sergeant
Fenley said :
“It’s time for your train now.”
I opened the door and he came in with
his bull’s-eye lantern and his lively collie.
We started off through the mud to the
station, the collie wading through the mud