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The Saguache Crescent
Saguache , Colorado
July 18, 1901     The Saguache Crescent
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July 18, 1901

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l /ldred CHAPTER XIV.--(Continued.) "Can't my dear fellow; don't you see how engaged I am?" answered Eddie, casting an expressive glance at Sllvia Lisle, who 'blushed and simpered, and lowered her white lids in acknowledg- ment in the most bewildering manner. "Denzil, you are doing nothing--go and succor the lost damsel, and re- store her to the bosom of her bereaved family." "Yes, do go, and explain things to her, Younge,' implored the unsuspect: lng Lyndon, "'and just say how it was I was put in for my cousin. It is an awful" bore," confided his lordship in a heartbroken whisper, "but what can a man do when a girl comes crying ta him about some miserable boy's stu- pidity? You bring Mildred home safely, there's a good fellow; remem- ber, I leave her to you;" and, without waiting for a reply, Lyndon bustled off, greatly to his cousin's relief, who dreaded lest some inopportune chance should again consign her to young Summerton's care. Both Lady Caroline and Mabel, who alone there knew his secret, had gone long since, so Denzil was left with no one to assist him in this hour of per- plexity~wlth no one to aid him in es- caping the tete-a-tete drive that appar- ently lay before him. Ever since his arrival at King's Abbott he and Mil- dred had scarcely spoken to each other --had shown, indeed, a mutual, though unspoken determination to avoid each other in every possible way. Then came the thought that she-- knowing nothing of the circumstances --would perhaps imagine that he had eonnlved at this arrangement, and had made the most of the opportunity of- fared to gain undisputed possession of her society for the long homeward drive. Mlldred was in a sadder plight than Denzll dreamed. Having wandered rather farther than she had had any intention of doing on first setting out' and discovering that a wood in Jan- uary is by no means the same thing that it is in July, she began to retrace her steps with the design of return- ing home with her mother. Dreading that she might be late, and feeling besides intensely cold she commenced to run, and as she ran her foot came upon a frozen pool, slipping upon which she came heavily to the ground. Raising herself up again directly and thinking nothing of it she hurried on once more, but presently an intense pain in her foot startled her, which in a few minutes increased to such a de- gree that she was obliged to seat her- sellf on the trunk of a fallen tree and acknowledge herself disabled, consider how best to acquaint her friends with her mishap. Fully half an hour passed thus, and she was almost upon the verge of de- spair, when footsteps coming hurriedly toward her from a side direction roused her, and raising her eyes, she beheld Denzil. She blushed crimson. "What has brought him?" she won- dered. "Surely Lyndon " "At last I have found you,' said Den- zll in his coldest tone, and as though he were politely bored at having been put to so much inconvenience. "I have come to tell you that the others are all gone." "Gone!" echoed Mildred, with as- tonishment. "Then where is Lord Lyndon ?" "His cousin, Miss Deverill, was so nervous that she insisted on his driv- ing her home, so he commissioned me to find you, and bear you i}is apolo- glee," returned Denzil, repeating his lesson with prompt decision. "I do not understand his treating me in such a manner," said Miss Tre- vanion, very pale and proud; "and where were Eddie and Charlie?" "They also were fully occupied," Denzil said bitterly; 'but your sister, preferring to return home with Lady Caroline, unfortunately left me free." Mildred bit her lip. "I regret very much that you should have given yourself this trouble," she said slowly--"I am sorry,*you have come." "And so am I," returned Denzil, haughtily; "but it is not my do- ing. I beg you to believe, Miss Tre- vanion that if I could have avoided it I would have done so." Then, seeing ~he made no attempt to move, he added, "Had you better not come? It is getting very late." She made no answer, but, putting her hand against the side of the tree, raised herself to a standing position. As the injured foot, however, was brought more firmly to the ground a 'spasm of pain contracted her face. "What is the matter? Have you llurt yourself?" he asked, in a some- what softer tone. "I have strained my foot in some awkward way--it is nothing," she an- swered. "Perhaps you had better take my arm," said he, still cohlly; and she re- turned. "No, thank you; I think I can man- age to get on," and she did manage for a few yards or so, when she fal- tered, utterin~ a faint moan. "What is the use of your persisting in this folly?" exclaimed Denzll, an- grily, "Do you wish to bc laid up for a month? Take my arm di:'cctly or--" ungraciously~"shall I carry you? I think it would be better. I dare say I could do it without breaking down, as it is not very far." "No," she answered tndignantly~ "certainly not. I can walk quite well." But she took his arm for ~vll that, and for a while hobbled along, miserably, beside him, her face white w~lth pain. "This is madness!" cried Denzil, and forthwith, not asking any further leave, took her up in his arms, and walked on again, so burdened, with a frowning brow and a set, unpleased expression about his lips. Miss Trevanion ":eke so taken by surprise and so utterly prostrated with pain, that at first she made no protest, but presently began to cry quietly in a broken, wretched sort of way. Denzll stopped. "Shall I put you down?" he asked, sternly. The situation, being unsought by him, and extremely distasteful--with his heart beating passionately, as if to warn him how Insufficiently under control It was--compelled him to as- sume an ill-temper he was very far from really feeling. Miss Trevanion sobbed on, but made no reply, knowing she had none to make, and so wisely refraining from speech of any kind; whereupon Denzil marched on as be- fore not addressing another word to her. He was a strong man; but a full- grown, healthy young woman was no light weight--so it was no disgrace to his manhood to confess that when at length he had her safely deposited in the carriage, he was rather glad than regretful. Taking the reins from the boy and throwing him some silver, he drove away without a single glance at his companion, as she lay back ex- hausted among the cushions he had carefully, but sulkily arranged for her. Mildred's foot having been examined and pronounced "likely to be tedious but not serious," she was comfortably ensconced on a sofa in her mother's sitting-room, whence, after dinner, she sent word that she would be very glad to see them all if they would come and sit with her. So consequently about nine o'clock, considerable noise and laughter might have been heard issuing from the boudour, where they had all assembled obedient to her commands--all, that is, save Eddie, Miss Lisle and Denzil Yo~lnge, with one or two others who had lingered in the billiard-room. Lord Lyndon had, of course, been the first to approach Mildred to inquire how she was and express his tender, loving regrets that she should have no injured herself; but finding her, though sweet and gra- cious as usual, somewhat disinclined for conversation, he had left her pres- ently with the entreaty that she wouhl try to sleep, and so subdue all fever- ish symptoms. But she was flushed and restless, and could not compose herself, so lay open-eyed, though si- lent, with her gaze fixed upon the door. CHAPTER XV. "Mildred," said Sir George, one night about a fortnight later on, "if you really mean hunting tomorrow, you will have to be up betimes, as we shall have to start more than usually early on account of the distance we have to go." "I shall be ready," answered Mildred. Accordingly, the next morning, true to her word, she was down-stairs equipped, even to the dainty little whip she carried in her hand, before any one but Denzil had put in an appeaeance. Lydon arriving shortly afterward in time for breakfast, they hastily dis- patched that meal, and started direct- ly after for the meet, which was at some considerable distance--Miss Tre- vanion and the acknowledged lover in front, Sir George with the discarded in the background. On their way they fell in with Frances Sylverton, attended only by a groom--Charlie having gone to rejoin his regiment some days before--who called out gayly that she had come this route on the mere chance of meet- ing them, and was therefore, for once in her life, unfeignedly glad to see them. "And what has happened to you, O knight of the rueful countenance?" she asked, merrily, of Denzll, reining in her horse beside his. "I had no idea I was looking so lu- gubrious,' he said laughing, "and I don't believe I am either. It is the morning mist that has got into your usually bright eyes." "No, it is not," persisted Miss Syl- verton, emphatically, shaking her head; "the signs of woe upon your face are unmistakable. I suppose you have a presentiment that you will be slain today, and naturally don't rel- ish it." "You are wrong," said he--"enttrely wrong. If I felt the shadow of such a feeling upon me, I shouhl go straight home again and wait for the dawning of some luckier day." And then immediately afterward they came within full view of the hounds, as they stood clustered to- gether in the hollow, for the most part seeming one mass of spotted skin and waving, restless tails. Three hours later, and Miss Treva- nion, with heightened color and warmed blood, wa~ riding excitedly along to the occasional music of the forward hounds. A little in front, Sir George and Lyndon gave her the lead, while behind there were none; for of all those who had met that morning but few now remained to be in at the "death." Some finding the pace to hot in the beginning had wisely drawn rein and solemnly plodded home again; others, more adventurously but scarce- ly so well judging, trusting to fllckle fortune to favor the brave, had come to a violent end and now sat or stood lamenting their fate and abusing their goddess in no very measured terms; while of those who still held on-- among whom was Frances Sylverton~ most of them rode to Mildred's left, down deep in the hollow of Hart's Chase, leaving to her right but one, and that was Denzil. A passionate lover of riding and de- voted to sport, ounge's keenest en- Joyment was to feel a good horse un- der him, with the certainty of a hard day's run in view;, and today, ~his mount being undeniable, he wins grow- ing almost happy again. Having made a false move about half an hour before he was now crashing through or over everything that came In his way, to make up for lost time, and gain on Sir George and Lyndon, who--clever and wary sports- men both--had sailed along from the beginning the line of vic- tory, without a moment's swerve. Just as Denzil at last caught sight of them and knew himself to be once more in the right way, he found he was on the same ground with Mlddred Trevanion, only considerably higher up. It was a lengthy meadow, strag- gling and untidy in form, and Mlldl:ed,~ entering at the lower end, could scarcely distinguish her companion above, but succeeded in making a shrewd conjecture nevertheless. From where she was It was easy enough to get into the adjoining field, but with Denzil it was far different. A short ugly wall rose before him, sur- mounted by a hedge of soma sort, thick and prickly, which effectually concealed from view the heavy fall on the other side Still, it wa~ not ex- actly an impossible thing to take, though decidedly a "facet," and Den-i zil, understanding the danger and trusting to his horse to carry him through, determined to risk it, come what might. Miss Trevanion, slightly ahead of him now--having managed her last Jump satlsfactorily~turned nervously in her saddle to see how It would end. She wondered breathlessly whether-- whoever he was--he knew of the----. And then she saw the horse rise, land at the other side; ~taggerll and then, plunging helplessly forward, bring tt- self and its rider heavily to the ground. Mildred shut her eyes and pressed her teeth cruelly on her under lip to suppress the scream that rose so nat- urally from her heart, and when she summoned courage to look up she found the horse had risen and stood trembling at some little distance off, while on the grass lay motionless a mass of brilliant scarlet cloth and a gleam of golden hair. (To be continued.) Poll Taxes In A. D. 1~2. The Rev. Dr. William C. Winslow, vice-president of the Egypt exploration fund, says that in addition to the papyri recently presented by the so- ciety to several universities there is a valuable lot of forty-three papyri which have been received for distribu- tion, largely treating of business and civil matters In the first centuries of our era. Among the seven papyri for Columbia university Is a tax collector's return showing items and how the col- lectors made returns in A. D. 196. There were poll taxes in A. D. 122. The rise of the Nile was the greatest annual event, and upon it taxes were calculated. Hence one of the six papyri sent to Johns Hopkins, treat- ing of the unwatered l~md tilled by Ptollarous, A. D. 163, Is peculiarly in- teresting. She declares that her field at Euhemeria did not get the water. Her plea, In a word, is: "No crops, no taxes." How Londo~ Could Be Defended. If t~e Dutch ever sail up the Thames again, or a Norman force land, London will not be unprepared. In the archives of Pall Mall repose musty schemes for the defense of the metropolis which it was thought would be undisturbed nn- til the war department commenced to move into its new palace. But there are busy men about and as a result new schemes will be forthcoming for bhe defense of London. Something like 60 batteries of artillery will be allotted to the defense, including guns of heavy caliber, 4.7 and 6 inches, which will be mounted in commanding positions, covering a wide, sweeping arc. The mobile force for defense will ~nclude nearly 100 15-pounder field guns, and an army corps of three divisions of regular infantry and 100 volunteers.~ London Express. l~e:~tg Gladstone In Argnmant. Mr. Eden Eddis, a famous English po~rait painter in his day, who was once nearly elected an R. A., has just die,4 within a few days of his 89th birthday. He once was discussing with Mr. Gladstone what was the 'brightest color In nature. The statesman claimed that red was; the artistsald that even in the dark you could see the blu~ flowers in a garden. Mr. Eddis showed Mr. Gladstone a photograph where the red flowers remained dead, undetached from the leaves, but the blue flowers were light and visible in all their forms. Then the controversy terminated abruptly with "Good-nlght, Mr. Eddie:" 'eo le and[ ~Pre.rldent of Chile. Don Jerman Rleseo, who at the elec- tion in Chile on Tuesday last, re- ceived a majority for president, was supported by most of the liberals and radicals and by part of the Conserva- tive party. He Is a relative of the re- tiring president, Senor Errazurlz. Don Pedro Montt, Riesco's opponent, was supported by a majority of the conservatives, or clericals, and by part ~ the liberal party. Both Senor Rieaco k PRESI'DENT RIESCR~. snd Senor Montt are moderate llh- erals. The assassination of Hoshi Toru, the chief of the liberals at Toyko, is now Bald to be traceable to the organization known as "Soshi," consisting of tur- bulent patriots who have before now given the Japanese government much cause for anxiety. In accordance with the general topsy-turvydom of the country, the "Soshi," instead of being revolutionaries, as the western world knows them, are ultra-conservatlves, who have bitterly opposed fdreign in- novations. Wlth a logic which has commended itself to Europeans and Americans living In Japan, they have Iseldom offered the "tonJinsan," as the foreigner is popularly known in Japan, actual physical violence, confining their attention to their own country- men. This is not the first time that assasslnatlon has played a part in their propaganda. This year, by the way, marks a memorable anniversary in the history of Japan.,~ Incredlb!.e as it may ap- pear, only[~thlrty, yearshave passed slnce the empire of the mikado emerged from the system of feudalism which had existed for centuries, and which in Its broad principles was not unlike the ancient baronial institutions of Europe. In 1871 the daimyates were abolished and perfectures established in their stead. Almost simultaneously --for events moved very qulekly~the disestablishment of Buddhism began and a mint was opened at Osaka. The following yeax the first line of railway was laid, conscription was introduced and an edict issued prohibiting nudity in ctties. To Chrixer* the ~rtt~rton. Isabel Truxtun, a reigning beauty of Norfolk, Va., ~ to christen the torpe- do boat named after her flhmtrtous an- cestor, Commodore Thomas Trnxton (horn 177~. died 182~), who was voted I S~EL TRUXTON. a gold medal by Congress. Her fath- er, the late William Thalbot Truxtun, U. S. N., was the grandson of the com- modore. .~ot Jg..eepin~] A~oinfment~. Carelessness in keeping appoint-, ments is one of the evils of the age. Time was when 4t was considered a point of honor to be exact in such matters, and the person who did not fulfil his promises was not regarded l as fit to do business with. Most men today will promise anything, and at [the moment have no thought of meet- ing an engagement~ unless it is to their own interest to do so. Punctual men, honorable men, faithful to every trust, spend a large part of their time wait- ing for irresponsible lagards who either arrive not at all, or if they do arrive are half an hour late and full of lame excuses. These men are rob- bers, stealin~ the time of others in ac- ' commodating themselves. J. W. Bell, member of the Canadian lower house of parliament, suffered a paralytic stroke on July 1, and is now at death's door. tie was elected to a s.tatAn parliament from Addington in 1882, and with the exception of the term of 1891-'6 has served ever since. He is considered one of the most en~ ergetic and popular members of the c~mmons. The Cake That W~ :Burnt. There was a little cook, and she made a little cake, She put it in the oven Just to bake, bake, bake; It was full of plums and spice, And of everything that'~ nice, And she said, "An hour, I reckon, it wlll take, take, take." And then that little cook wenf Co have a little play, With a very charming cat across the way, way, way; She forgot the cake, alack,r It was burnt, well, almost I)I~ck, And I wonder what the cook's: mamma would s~y, say, say!' The ~Ittle cook ran off, and sen'teased her tel'e, o~ woe, F~r to find her cake a cinder w-a~: a blo~, blow, blow';: ~'Clieer up," the mother said', As she stroked the golden head', ~For accidents will happen, we: a)ll know, know, know:" Fuzzy,. the Woodchuek.. ID'orothy lived with ller gran(rpar- anis on a little farm among the, moun- talns. Se loved animals,, and was never without m pet of some RindL (~ne flay as Dorothy's grandfather was taking the cow to pasture, he noticed three little creatures playing near a large rock. He thought they were young foxes, and he started to catch one; but before he could~ reach, the place, two of the little fellows had tumbled into their ho~e. The other was about half way in when Dorothy's grandfather grabbed him. It was not a fox, but a baby woodchuck--a~queer, fuzzy, little ball of fur, with beady black eyes, stumpy tail, and big yel- low teeth. The baby woodchuck bit and scratched and struggled to get away. But at last he was tied in a handkerchief, and then he was carried to Dorothy. Dorothy was delighted with this new strange pet; and though her grandfather said woodchucks rare- ly became tame, she was sure this one would. She named him "Fuzzy," and ~hen took down her old squirrel cage, ~nd lined it with soft hay and placed aim in It, witD some fresh-cut clover ~nd a little dish of water. For a few iays Fuzzy was very wild: He be- saved very badly. He insisted on ~pllling his water; and he would snap nd bite whenever his: llt.le mistress neplaced it. But by-and-by he saw that Dorothy did not mean to hurt him. Then he gave up biting. In two weeks he would drink: from his dish without upsetting it, and' would nibble stayer from Dorothy's hand, and let her scratch his funny, lift-re head~ I~, a month Fuzzy had gro~n: t~,twice his; size, and had become so. tame that he would let Dorothy take. hlm~ i~ l~er ~trms and carry him ~bc~L. O~re ~ay Uttle Dorothy forgot i;~. fa~te~ the cage door and Fuzzy. v~allted~ c~ttt. Rut be did not go far, and we~t back to his cage of his ow~ aceozd~. The door v, as never fastened ag~i:r~, ~nd all day Iong Fuzzy would pr~y about the ver- anda or x, ibble grass in front of the house, but he always returned to his wire house for the night. One day Dor(~tl~y~s grandmother was baking cookies, ,and she gave one to Fuzzy. It was funny to see the little woodchuck taste it then taste again, as if he were not quite able to make up hls mind whether hs liked it or not. Finally he decided that he did like it and he ate It all. From this tlm~, dookles were his favorite food. As ~oon as Dorothy's grandmother began to bake he would run to the kitchen, and slt on his haunches in the door- way, and wait patiently until his cooky was given him; then he would scamper off to one of his grassy nooks and eat it at his leisure. Several times during the summer Fuzzy wandered off to the woods arid spent the day. At last one cool October day Fuzzy went off and did not return. Dorothy was afraid some one had killed him. All winter long she mourned for Fuzzy. One fine morning in April as Dorothy was walking down the road with her grandfather they espied a big red woodchuck sitting on a stump in a field, "Oh, grandpa!" cried Doro- thy, "see that woodchuck, doesn't he look Just like my dear old Fuzzy?" "Perhaps it is Fuzzy," said her ~rand- father. "Call him and see)' Stepping to the side of the road, Dorothy waved her hands and called, "Fuzzy! Fuzzy! come here, Fuzzy!" And what do you think happened? Why, the big red woodchuck first looked at Doro- thy for a minute, with his head on one side, and then came running across the field--and it was her dear old Fuzzy, coming back to her after his long winter sleep. Dorothy took the great red fellow in her arms and hugged and kissed him, Fuzzy seemed to share her de- light. He rubbed his nose against her cheek and grumbled down in his throat as woodchucks do when they are pleased. Of course Dorothy carried Fuzzy home and fed and petted him, to make up for all the tlme he had been away. That afternoon Dorothy's grandma got out her baking tins and rolling pin. And the moment Fuzzy heard the sound, he started up and ran. to the kitchen door, and took his place again, to wait for his cooky. During his long winter sleep he had not for- gotten about the cookies. One day Dorothy's grandpa found that his vegetables had been nibbled ~f, and as Fuzzy had never been kno'w~ to go into the garden he thought ~ome wild woodchuck had made his If~ close by to be near Fuzzy. That night he set a trap. The next day when he visited the trap, there, caught fast by one leg, was Dorothy's Fuzzy! Poor Fuzzy's leg was broken. He moaned and groaned while it was being ban- daged. He was put to bed, and Dor- othy smoothed him and petted him, and cried over him, and she felt that Fuzzy under~tood how sorry she was for him. After a long time Fuzzy was able to go about as well as ever, but he never again showed any inclination to go into the garden.--Llttle Folks. T0ddy's ]Nap. Teddy was out in the back yard, fffgging a well with an old iron spoon. He had on his grandpa's straw hat, which, of course, kept falling down over his eyes. "Teddy," called gran(lma, "it is too hot for you to stay out any longer; ycat must come in now." If, was time for Teddy's nap, but she didn't say so. "~ ain't Teddy," said the little boy; 'Tse grandpa, and I'se dlggln' a well. My bossy-cow is all 'tarvin' to deaf for ~ater, so I'se got to dig it." "But grandpa comes in to rest when the suds is very hot, you know," said grandma. "You may go out to work again when it is cooler, Just as grand- pa does.'" Gramdma bathed the hot little face. and taok off his dress and his shoes and stockings, so that his neck and his arms, and his little pink feet might cool off. "'Grandpa lle.s on the lounge to rest, you know, Teddy," said grandma. "Bu~ I don't want to take a nap!" said Teddy. "Nov does grandpa; you see, ha Just lies down and reads the paper, and if he gets sleepy he goes to sleep; that'~ the way he does." "AL~ wight!" said Teddy, seizing a newspaper and climbing on the lounge. "'But I want some grasses, grandma, I can't see to read wlvout grasses, you know." Grandma found some eyeglass bows with, no glasses in them; and Teddy held-~hem astride his nose with one han~. "Mns' I read to you, grandma?" he asked. "If you please, sir; I'd like to hear the news." "The news ls--er--er," staring at the npside-down paper, and seeing the p.icture of a boat; "there's a awful storm and the boat's all turned over. and the people's all drownded dead!" "You don't say so!" cried grandma. "And there's a war," continued the Iittle reader, "and the men wiv guns sheeted some uvver men, and--and" Here the little fel:ow began to yawn. He stared hard at the paper, but h:s eyes would close; then down dropped the "grasses," and Teddy was fast asleep. llunf!ng with tho ~t~aat.: ~,t. The new sport, beg,u~t b,~" natural- ists, of hunting all in~Rner of wild creatures with the earner's, spying upon them in the s.u~tBo~e(| privacy of their retreats, stu~yinK their habits, domestic customs" and individual traits, offers a Dursuit infinitely more significant, more elevating and of greater value to humanity than the sport whose vista is bounded by the sights of a gun-barrel. It certainly calls for a higher courage, and "inso- much is a more manly occupation. Tracl~ing big game to its lair, clrcum- venting it at short range in order. to get. it in a good light, waiting for it to str{ke an effective pos~,~ then calms- my snapping a shutter, while unf~ tered by cumbrous weapon and a~- munition, is a braver deed than toRch- ing a trigger at rifle range. It cer- tainly demands superior skill and yields superior results. Where the ob- ject of the chase Is some little harm- less animal, it is usually a much more difficult feat to secure its reflected im- age than it would be to slay It with a charge of shot or to land it with a hook. Throuyh cam0ra observation, a vast new department of education is b~lng opened up to the student, a vast field tn delightful surprises, and a tender, intimate appreciation of anima! life, which cannot help but make better and wiser those who probe its myste- ries. The hunt with the camera is an up- lifting occupation,, educating to a new reverence for the humblest of created things, and free from the brutalizing influences of sport which has killing am ,its end. It is an ideal pursuit for young peo- ple, many of whom have shown them- selves most successful in the delicate finesse, the patience and stealthy movement essential to drawing near their quarry without disturbing it. In field and orchard, in canyon and vale, among the high mountains and In the forest depths, among birds and insects and shy four-footed thlngs. weird and fascinating life stories are waiting to be unfolded which have never yet been told.~San Francisoo Chronicle. Who has never done thinking never bogtn~ doing. ,)