The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 20, 1898, Page 31

31 'y G 1 //QZ " CUCUO0000U0DVVOVTOD0000CO0000000OD000 THE HARD LUCK MINE. BY MARY LEE SMITH. § SACRAMENTO. § CO0000O00000000000000000GC00000000000C0 spread rapidly about been alive if the rest of you had mot g camp. Jim Bradshaw ne to n vou did; and it was gone down the shaft of powerful kind of you and I won't for- 3 Luck get it nuther.’ that Jim had There was something in Bradsha was ard eyes like tears, as he said this. )} s he was touched by C00000O QUOOWOVLY had would ha see the pine trees did not s outside of the cabin indulge in a jig. And now,” went on Bradshaw, “I that I to say, Lucy and boy K it rich, on the quiet, and to do the proper and make was not popul fairly th ck it rich!” shouted the miners, Hard Luck. Send a com- ou don’t be e it and I'll ith them and make a show- father nd little Luc the committee. giving dinner wa. o arted upon a trip to the Hard Luck way of the Bully Boy. When t v ned to the camp, their eyes- were with wonder seen like it,” reported It i a regular b za."” sald Bradshaw . me are pardners from now shaf on. Half of every dollar taken out of at it would the mine shall he hern, and I ask you 1ce where all to be the witnesses to this agree- a happy Thanksgiving for Lucy. She was habny that she saved Bradshaw’s life; happy that now her papawould be able to live com- fortably and that she coul have some money to send to her cousins in the East and to help poor old Mr Wood- some man, who wished to go to his people d had told her ew York, but had no way to get having a She soon rcalized all her wishes and much , but never lost the kina and lovi that made her the pet of The Hard Luck mine while for o1.e million one-half wa “Lit- nd soor e Tl WS COOKING OF Y BY HELEN P. SHAW. SONOMA, CAL. un Lucy’s ¢ rewarded: by m 3 he adjc uld not walit which nded t Fock. to be Y sakes, but I'm getting warm lacing a s lamp upon roared the stove complainingl e plunged ly through “Wait a minute,” said the clock, 1nd soon her feet struck some- “and perhaps the draught will ft. It took but a ond for cool you off a bit”” *“Oh, you : <he had found Brad- run down, I'll speak for myself!” cried dead or alive? the draught angrily. rilly in that under- “‘Don’t be so airy now, or I'll strike,” lamp ¢ strange d the clock. shaft vind her “Bah, now; do stop your nonsense, sound of picks, WH cried the lifter, “I wonder that —" ir with all their But just then the stove cover inter- aperture in the rupted him and asked for a lift. “Oh. them get through, Yyou lift yourself,” answered the lifter Bradshaw's impatiently, and turning to the draught continue I wonder that a persqn of your position should waste so much wind over a shame-faced clock like that — “Shamefaced, indeed,” replied the clock alarmingl “Am I pot the one ress consults on all important but ve i by be,” said the lifter, “but ness is more elevating than the tea kettle began to sing loudly in order to drown the noise and the stove pipe settled down for a good smoke. But their peace was soon disturbed by the fire calling lustily to the wood box for a stick of wood. No At sooner had the fire been quieted than it She start- the brush and the dust pan got to quar- for another reling as to which was the more use- tly against ful, and when they came together the backward dust flew so that the oven door com- 1 t Lucy’s lamp wer to_retrace her struck her & sighe L projecting stone® and ensible. plained that it was hard for her to When the miners reached Bradshaw turn round, her joints were so stiff. and did not se cy, they were g But the draught was delighted with cited: distant Lucy the dust, and rushed along, carrying first to r the dust with it. In fact, it blew so , soon afte hard that the tongs had the rheuma- = was all ri tism in his joints and refused to work. was taken out with s The tin pan and the frying pan on He recovered after a little. the shelve above the stove now bezan as Thanksgiving. All to clash, and their clamor could be 1 at Harry sard above the noise of the tea ket- nd to , who in vain tried to drown it. as the honor and 1 “I am more useful than you are,” ere spoken to h It exclaimed the frying pan. dinner_time s “No, you're not.” replied the tjn pan. invited to the dinner, ‘“The mistress fries all sorts of good i things in me,” cried the frying pan. h at celerbratin’ or “But I can be used to put anything w but I want to in and used to cook with, too,” retorted right now, that ‘Little the tin pan. est girl in all Cali- At last they called upon the stove to d my life.” decide which of them was the more ih for Brad- useful, and the stove told them that s, good na- meither of them was useful so long as it was empty. The fire again called to id Bradshaw, “and I Mr. Wood Box. uld never have “What do you want?” he snarled. | B NO FAIR KIKI \M‘ DE SHIVZ] DA\III% It tfollowed me lamb always went, too. like a little dog and was not afraid of The lamb and I grew t friends, but one morning, 1 got up to feed my lamb, he w: looked all over but could not find him. .person the lamb belonged to must have found him and have taken him home. 1 felt very badly over the loss of my dear friend and have thought of him many times. Now looR here in fair, square de Rknow what you've done you a minute any light on the subje * he cried, “I belleve ling. and I'd like to with that stick the woods fo 1 thought the ““Ah, I see,” remarked the clock; “you threw too much light on the subject.” “Keep quiet,” cried the broom; “you talk as though ¥ou had a screw loose. * replied the clock; “my brains are zll right, but yours are a bundle of straws.” “Look outy, or T'll sweep you off the , was told of an arrival , and earnestly in- any relation to him. :d his mother, _ After think- few minutes the little 11, perhaps you know, Willie, aged in his uncle’s famil e “he is your fir: ing it over for this that she struck at the br and the mi e hurried Into the room and put an end “Who made you?” she as did God make? a moment and looked around hopelessiy till he noticed his face brightened. ““He made Bill, too, I triumphantly. ashamed to Go to her at once and tell her you are very “‘aren’t you illiam said: the little fellow a few moments later, “I'm awful sorry you are so stupid.” HAPPY LIFE ON THE FARM BY LORRAINE FITCH. NCE upon a time there were two little girls cne of the little girls was named Dorothy and tHe other was Janet they lived on a great big Farm they had a dog and cat the Dog’s name was Shep and the cat's name was Stub and the reason that the cats name was Stub because it had a stub tafl Janet was very fond of the the Dog died and Dorothy felt very sorry about it but the cat lived to be 8 years old. The teacher asked what a demagogue is, and he replied: vessel that holds whisky any other kind of intoxicating liquor.” THE BEAR AND THE PET LAMB BY HARVEY E. TELLER, NE morning I took my gun and started out to hunt. about three miles when I heard a noise in the brush. my gun and ventured near the spot where 1 heard the noise. arrived at the spot a big black bear had a poor little lamb, clawing it to I fired two shots and the bear I picked up the lamb, Dog and one vy don’t he speak, ma? i too young, my son. Freddy—Ain't he got any speaking tube? KNOWLEDGE AT COLLEGE (FROM ST. NICHOLAS.) There came a young freshman to college. When he heard that he had to get knowl- fell over dead. which was nearly dead. When I had found my way road I took held of the lamb by a rope which I tied around its neck and led it gave it some milk to drink some straw down for it to lay on. took good care of my lamb for a long till it was all ‘Whenever 1 went hunting again the ‘Goodncss me! . how can this be? What a queer thing to do at college!” Y. (=l TRUE STORY OF INDIANS BY AUNT HELEN, HE summer of '66 opened with bright prospects for the adven- turous spirits who had pene- trated to the heart of the Owy- hee Mountains in search of sud- den fortune. The wonderful Poorman Mine had not yet demon- strated that its “Pockets” were not bottomless, and the Golden Chariot, Ida Elmore and great Oro Fino prom- ised untold wealth to their fortunate owners. Quartz mills, from the far East and West, were brought over the almost impassable mountain roads, and in an incredibly short time were add- ing the ceaseless din of hundreds of “stamps” to the reverberations of many blasts—and the shouts of team- sters urging on their ten-mule teams, hauling immense wagons loaded with ore. Silver City was booming. Miners and business inén, gamblers and adven- turers, and all the motley crew that seem tc rise out of the earth wherever there is a “strike’”’—were there. Saloons and all their attendant surroundings were in full blast, and as always a few families, wives who saw that duty pointed to any goal the husband sought, and innocent children, who were as happy and as well-cared for in that wild mining camp as in the most staid of Eastern homes. But, amid all the rush and hopeful bustle, a fearful dread cast its shadow over prospector, rancher and family alike—the Owyhee Indians were on the warpath! Lone prospectors, isolated cabins and lonely ranches had been visited by the merciless foe—and now at last the Chico stage line, recently established, had been attacked, the driver and two passengers killed, the horses stolen and stations burned. Something must be done! Promptly a band of fifty hardy mountaineers, well armed, mounted and provisioned, and commanded by an experienced Indian fighter, started out, determined to find and punish the sa ages. For two days they rode over sage-brush, plain and mountain-trail, seeing no sign of the enemy, but know- ing they were not far off. They had just found their camping ground for the night—a rocky, treeless plain, but with the one indispensable feature of a camp—a spring—around which they gathered and were unsaddling their weary horses, when some one, with an exclamation more forcible than polite, d Boy of 4] het kil E With his hag] cried “Look!” They did look, to find that the valley as far as they could see seemed alive with Indians, surely drawing near to surround them, but cautiously, for they had a wholesome awe of the repeating rifle, which most of the white men carried. It doesn't take frontiersmen long to think and to act under such circum- stances, and immediately detachments were at work, under cover of their com- rades’ guns, throwing up breastworks and digging rifle-pits around the spring. Then a weary siege began. For five days the beleaguered camp was har- assed by the wily foe, who took few chances themselves, knowing that if they were patient, either provisions or ammunition would be exhausted, and the white men be an easy prey. Capt. Jenkins had been wounded and two of the men killed. They had been laid in their shallow graves, which had been dug within the fort. Again dark- ness had settled around the brave but discouraged little band. In the distance they could see the camp fires of the In- dians, and they seemed to realize how hopelessly they were outnumbered. The far-off stars seemed to be looking down upon them with a calm and piti- less gaze. Silence fell upon all. Who Do DIz g o > (' TREASURE a lock of golden hair, Cut from my darling’s curly head. Ah, the sad tale the tress unfolds! 1 sit and weep as for one dead. He lives, but parted are our lives. My eyes are dim, my heart is sore. Time, the thief, has stolen him— He's not a baby any more. I gently kiss the silken threads And fondle with a nameless dread: My thoughts drift backward to the days Of happiness—ere joy had fled. In some fair time perchance we'll meet: Forget the past and laugh it o'er. é‘(‘(& But, oh, "twill never be the same— He's not a baby any more! R. W. RIGGS. ! can tell what thoughts of home and tale of his friends' dire need. loved ones, and memories of boyhood A few minutes sufficed for a spurred and vouth, filled the minds of those and mounted messenger to be on his ugh men? Quietly one of the num- way to Silver. The ten miles were ber spoke: P 3 quickly traversed, and by midnight, the “See here, boys, this thing can't last; alarm was given. we must get out of here!” Ah, the horror of that nivht. Men rid- ing at full speed through one street four hundred of those red rascals; their shouting, “Indians, Indians!” The sentries are all around us; it would be Steam whistles of eight quartz mills utterly impossible for any man to get £ave ome prolonged whistle; bells ring through their lines alive; and if the im- iNg drums beafing, and wo possible could be accomplished, no m ning shrieking from their ho Penger could get to Flint, thirty miles their babies in their arms, thin Away, and send help in time to save Indians were at their doors. But after Sk the whole town and nitv were “I know, 1t seems so,” said Jack Hill, aroused, quiet was restored, and volun- the first speaker; “but it's a horrible teers for the rescue party were organ- death some way. If we do nothing, ized, and by 10 a. m. two hundred and and only meet death, I am willing to men all armed andwinost of them take the desperate chances—I'll go to- Mmounted, left the town, expecting to get night.” ‘hen rested messenger at Flint for So ‘with many suggestions and much 2 guide. discussion, it was decided that Jack _Imagine, if you can, the state of should try. Gunny-sacks filled with things in Silver, where not more than dirt were tied upon his hands and ©One hundred able-bodied men were left knees, so that no noise and no track Tt least one hundred women and chil- should betray him. A revolver and can- 4rén: not a fire-proof building in the teen of water and a little food were Place and very few ilable fires R disposed about his person. A few whis- T0 add to the anxi nal fires were pered words were spoken to his “Chum” S€én to go up on all t surrounding mountain tops, and it wgs known that the Indians kn-— the unprotected state of the town as well as the inhabitants did. A guard was set about the town, and it was decided that at the first alarm all the women and ch to go to the largest ouartz mill could be defen for a time But they were spared that horror. For two anxious days and nights the guard patrolled the hill On the morning of the third day the rescuers and rescued returned without having had a chance to fire a shot. “Yes, but how? There are at lea The Indians, warned by their signals, knew that word had been scni some- how, and also knew almost exactly when relief would come. So just two hours before the party reached the scene of the siege, the Indians quietly withdrew, and were soon out of sight, and none too soon, for worn out and al- most famished Captain Jenkins and his men could not have held out much longer. ‘When the retreating Indians reached the stage road they saw in the distance the lights of the approaching stage. The redskins, four hundred strong, ar- ranged themselves along the road, meaning that the stage would run the gauntlet. The six horses came dashing on, the driver all unconscious of the warm reception awaiting him. There were three drunken men inside the stage, the driver and guard on the box. The first warning they had of their danger was a warwhoop and a volley of bullets and arrows. The guard dropned wounded into the boot. With almost miraculous quickness of thought the driver turned his horses and shoot- ing right and left with his revolver de- voutly hoping some of the bullets would reach the mark he dashed to the mili- tary post, a mile away, where he had just changed horses. ~ This is a true story. WHAT ETHEL SAW. NE day, as Ethel was sitting at the front window waiting for it to stop raining, so she could go out riding with her mother, she saw a little carriage, drawn by six ponies and driven by a little fairy. He told Ethel to get in, which she did. In a few moments she saw a little house, from which strains of music and the merry peals of laughter were com- ing. 'They stopped in front of the the Kirt, door, and the fairy bjum{:ed r{l;t an(} used ¢ i told Ethel to follow, but she said: * e sy (7 cannot get through that door; I am too led the T, large.” The fairy handed her a bot- uwk p o w. tle, from which he told her to drink. 2 She took a drink, and felt herself grow- ing smaller and smaller, and at last she was small enough to go through theg door. ‘When she got in the room she saw a merry sight, the fairies dancing, talk- ing and having a very fine time. The what to write to “her” if Jack was never fairy that had driven her there intro- heard of more, and the “Chum” lived duced her to the Queen Curly and King to tell the tale. A few hand-clasps Curly. were given, and although no reverent The queen introduced her to many word was spoken, who dares say that other friends, and she had a very fine many a thought commending him to time. the care of the only one who could pro- The band was playing the last piece. tect him was not in the hearts of those Ethel woke up and found it had stopped uncouth but true hearted men when raining, and her mother had gone out they bid their comrade good-by? riding and left her. 5 In (h‘; dlz:rkness that precedes the — awn, Jack left the fortifications, and began his perilous way t‘tllr(\ugh the THE BU,IEB,I:E BEE. hostile camp. Crawling on his dirt-cov- ered hands and knees, he made but slow BY JAMES: WHITCOMB RILEY. ; progress. He scarcely dared to breathe, ‘You better not fool with a Bumblebee! expecting every moment to be his last. Bf you don’t think they can sting—you'll Once he stepped on a stick that cracked Pl 5 - ‘- under his welght. He thought his hour Theyre 142y, to ook, ok B (Gndy %o had come. But no stir following, he ™3¢ so slouchy an’ all fagged out, phicked up courage and at last reached Danglin’ their lags as they drone about some rocks out of sight of the Indiane, hollyhawks ’'at they can't climb in and scarcely daring to believe his good ‘[thout ‘'ist a tumble-un’ out ag'in! fortune, he threw off the dirt sacks and Wunst I watched one climb clean "way started on a run for Flint. In a jimson hlnss?x‘n. 1 did, on‘e da It was a weary day. Often he lost An !o;‘f; (filr:*b}’,fifne“,—“‘“m',‘g"y;;‘f his way, having only a small compass 2% “{je i gy 4 - G D S Baile over the tratkless plairi dnd SLYS tha RagEedy am @ don'eisuen through the equally bewildering moun- A says: “They has b'en folks, I guess, tains. It was long after nightfall when, ‘At thought I wuz prejudst, more or less— with bleeding feet and exhausted Yit I still muntain at a Bumblebee strength he reached Flint, and told the Wears out his welcome too quick for he!" SKOAR CUR SIDE .|2 KRACKED HEDS| 3 BARKED sHiMs E S5iDE. | GRANGER KILD) 3 LAMPS MUy 4 LEGS BROA! &-Toarc ,@ ) 27 DE ‘BUMPKINS ' T S THANKSGIVINS GAIM.