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+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #66961 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66961)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Plet: A Christmas Tale of the Wasatch,
-by Alfred Lambourne
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Plet: A Christmas Tale of the Wasatch
-
-Author: Alfred Lambourne
-
-Release Date: December 17, 2021 [eBook #66961]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Guus Snijders and the Online Distributed
- Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
- produced from images generously made available by The
- Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLET: A CHRISTMAS TALE OF THE
-WASATCH ***
-
-
- Transcriber's note:
-
-A few errors in punctuation have been silently restored, otherwise the
-original spelling was retained.
-
-
-
-
- PLET: A CHRISTMAS TALE OF THE WASATCH
-
-
- [Illustration: Plet]
-
-
-
-
- PLET:
-
- A CHRISTMAS TALE OF THE WASATCH
-
-
- BY
- ALFRED LAMBOURNE
-
-
-
-
- The Deseret News
- 1909
-
-
- Copyright, 1891, 1894, 1906, by
- Alfred Lambourne
-
-
- TO
- HOLD FROM OBLIVION AWHILE, AND TO PRESENT
- TO MY CHILDREN,
- THE MEMORIES OF HOURS
- PASSED AT THE PLACE DESCRIBED HEREIN AS
- OUR HOME.
-
-
-
-
- PLET: A CHRISTMAS TALE OF THE WASATCH.
-
-
- A tale from out my western life you say?
- Something to while the Christmas Eve away;
- And something, too, to suit this festal time,
- With two old bachelors, long past their prime,
- Who as they sip in solitude their wine,
- Are filled with memories of Auld Lang Syne?
- Well,—I grant it. Yet why did you add,
- Something to suit the time? I shall be glad—
- But was the last a tongue slip? Let it go.
- Still, why I asked, the tale will clearly show.
- As I proceed and still you care to hear,
- You'll find it suits this night of all the year.
- Oh, yes! to fill your wish I'm full inclined,
- I need but voice the thoughts within my mind,
- And then the task's completed. All comes back
- On every Christmas Eve, I never lack
- Of food for thought. That time I'll ne'er forget
- In future years, though distant may be set
- My time for going. When my younger mate—
- But why as writers say—anticipate?
- You'll find the tale, perhaps, a trifle sad,
- When every dictum says it should be glad.
- And—hope the last will not astonish you—
- Once in a while a little preachy, too.
- And mixed with love, a subject—well, heigh, ho!
- Something that we are not supposed to know.
-
-
-
-
- PART FIRST.
-
-
-
-
- I.
-
-
- Crash! crash!! crash!!! A heavy, thunderous sound,
- Re-echoed from the snow-clad mountains round.
- Then shrieks and voices hoarse came through the night
- And far below we saw the lantern's light,—
- It was the slides again! Through misty damp,
- We hastened downward to the stricken camp.
-
- The Christmas Eve! Ill time had chosen Fate
- To work her will and joy annihilate!
- Women and children lay beneath that snow,
- And many a bronzed cheek was touched with woe.
- Think not those men who toil amid the hills
- Lack generous fire that noble bosom fills.
-
- Their hearts are tender and their hearts are true,
- Their sympathies come quick as mountain dew.
- I've been at many rescues; seen the tears
- Fill manly eyes, when hope came after fears.
- Seen cheeks turn pale, as from their prisons deep,
- Crushed, lifeless forms were lifted in last sleep:
- As some dear comrade, thought past hope, beneath
- The hard-pack'd snow, was found to live—to breathe.
- Oh, true those brawny delvers of the mines,
- Though in their fashion they are rough at times!
-
- Have you ever seen a snow-slide?—No?
- Ah! oft I've wished their pictures to outgrow!
- I've drunk a drop or two the thoughts to drown,
- 'Tis hard, sometimes, to keep emotion down.
- Soon we had rescued four; and found three—dead;
- A father, mother, child. The cradle-head
- Stood by the shattered wall, and close there hung—
- Not one but felt his heart with pity wrung—
- The child's blue, tiny stocking. On the man
- Lay the roof-tree; we hardly dared to scan
- With sidelong glance the sight. But wife nor child
- The snow had marr'd, for still the mother smiled;
- The little hands were clasped as if in prayer—
- As lisped words but echoed mother's there,
- Or as the thoughts were filled with visions bright,
- Of what the eyes should see at dawn of light.
- Alas! those eyes would open never more;
- How quick their time for smiles and tears was o'er!
- The clasped hands that toy should never lift
- Saint Nicholas had brought for Christmas gift.
-
- And so we worked, and ere the darkness fled
- Six others we had placed among the dead,
- But none we found were living. Nine there lay
- All stark upon the snow, that black night's prey.
- Where it would end, there was no time to ask,
- As steadily we held the grewsome task.
- We did our best—I'm over sixty now,
- And strife with Fortune early lined my brow—
- So I, when overcome with labor sheer,
- A lantern held or uttered words of cheer.
-
- At last we reached them—all too late it seemed,
- So pale their faces as the cold morn gleamed.
- Around the father's neck her arms were flung,
- As if in terror from her couch she sprung,
- When first upon her ears came, faint and low,
- The distant rumble of the loosened snow.
- Lovely she lay in her long, broidered robe,
- Her brown hair rippling o'er each argent globe
- Of her ripe bosom's wealth. A long lash press'd
- Silken on either cheek. Even when oppressed
- By death's close presence—she was lovely then,
- But still more lovely as those days came when
- Her cheeks with health were red, and in her eye
- The light of friendship shone, and, by and by,
- The tender look of love. No wonder Jo
- Lost then and there his heart. The girl to know
- Was prelude sure to loving. Wonderful
- Indeed, had he not loved her. And a full
- And generous destiny appeared to say,
- You'll stand together on your Wedding Day.
- Whene'er I saw them happy side by side,
- My foolish heart said, "Jo has found his bride."
- Perhaps when heart's for heart, there is a link
- We do not understand. I sometimes think
- Love called to love from Death's dark portico—
- Or else what urged the lad to labor so?
- 'Twas he who, reverent, raised her in his arms,
- All mute at her sweet face and maiden charms.
- My full belief it was that from the grave
- The girl had come to wed my boy so brave.
- But not so fast, old Time has chastened me,
- For who can tell what Fate will say, shall be!
-
- Yes, once again the story all revives—
- Strange part the Christmas Eve played in their lives!
-
-
-
-
- II.
-
-
- Our Home—that is our cabin, Jo's and mine,
- A single room to dwell in, sleep or dine,
- Stood in a hollow near the mountain top,
- Where massive walls the blue sky seemed to prop.
- A stern, bleak, strange, a lonely rugged place
- From whence down-looking one could distant trace
- The far-sunk canon and the ledges damp
- That sloped toward the little mining camp.
- A Babylonish pile at one end rose
- On which lay through the year the spiral snows;
- And at the other, lichened, richly mossed,
- Inlaid by nature's hand, all wild up-tossed,
- A mass of terraces did steeply lean,
- While tumbled debris lay these heights between.
- And higher still the hoary mountain passed
- Into a peak, all naked, pale, and vast;
- Bleached into gray, but marked with mineral stain—
- The source of which it was our hope to gain.
- So thus we tunneled and did slow proceed,
- Striving from day to day to reach "the lead."
- Across the debris lay a zig-zag track
- Our feet had made in climbing up and back.
- And 'tween our claim and cabin, lost in sleep,
- A mountain lake lay cold, and dark, and deep.
-
- Three years we lived there—in that hollow stern,
- The mountain's sights and voices well did learn.
- Peered down the ledges sunk in watery gloom,
- Beheld the flowers that exhaled rich perfume.
- By the lake margin they in myriads grew—
- Unfolded there the starry asters blue;
- Around each boulder, ere the snow was old,
- Came gleaming buttercups in rings of gold;
- Where swift the gathered waters fell away,
- Forget-me-nots were drenched in crystal spray.
- The mimulus, the brush, geraniums bright,
- Lit up the shadows with a sunny light.
- These sounds we heard—the new-born torrent's plaint,
- The bird-like chirp of hidden squirrel faint;
- And others, too, uncanny, savage, wild—
- The wind that fiend-like shrieked 'mong rocks all aisled,
- Anon, oh, dreadful sound! the thunder-peal,
- When e'en the giant mountain seemed to reel.
- Sometimes the echo of a distant blast—
- Which sound of promise made our hearts beat fast—
- Full many a sound that made our bosoms swell;
- Oh, yes, we learned to know the mountains well!
-
- But who was Jo? We met upon the slope
- When I, at least, was well-nigh without hope.
- I'd struggled long—it was my fate, you see—
- Had been held down by dark adversity.
- But from the moment I met Jo—'twas change,
- Then for my life began an upward range.
- Upon the cliffs of purple, iron-gray,
- Heavy and wan, the clouds held fast that day.
- The Tower of Babel, in the thick murk gloom'd,
- Like to a mighty, spectral shadow loom'd
- Dim, black, gigantic, save for lines of snow
- Reflected vaguely in the lake below.
- And clouds as heavy on the peak did rest,
- While vapors white lay wild along each crest.
- 'Twas ominous truly, but sudden—lo, behold!
- The sunbeams darted through the thick enfold.
- And then was transformation! 'Twas a sign—
- An omen surely good, I did divine.
- We stood and gazed in silence. All the moss
- Seemed turned to emerald fire by the cross
- Of slanting sunbeams. Silver flash they gave
- To edge of every shoreward lapping wave.
- And then the flowers! As by magic turned,
- Each rain-wet leaf as topaz, ruby, burned!
- Oh, 'twas inspiring! But why more recite?
- Our friendship dated from that glorious sight.
- I thought that Fortune dealt anew the cards,
- When Jo consented to try luck as "pards."
-
- Nor did I rue it. 'Twas a well-fought game.
- Ere that day ended we had staked a claim.
- Led by a hope not easy to dispel,
- We built our hut by that deep mountain well.
- And there we lived. All gloomy thoughts we quelled,
- Believed success was in the future held.
- Oft we would sit beside our cabin door,
- Each chance of winning look at o'er and o'er;
- And as we lit and smoked a friendly pipe,
- We'd boast how Fortune's hair we'd tightly gripe.
- We saw the yellow twilight in the west
- Grow dim and fade upon the mountain's breast.
- Oft when the lake and crags had turned to jet,
- The moon came up and found us watchers yet.
- Dear lad, I loved him truly as my life,—
- In those three years we passed no word of strife;
- I played the father, he was like a son.
- Alas! the end to that so well begun!
-
- A curious fact—and why not tell it here?
- Though you may think it just a little queer—
- I wished when my time came, and I lay dead,
- Within that hollow, Jo should make my bed.
- In some strange way—I scarce can make it clear,
- Nor in my hopefulness should it appear—
- That one of us would live to see his mate,
- The labors of his life there terminate.
- And so, in shelter that a dwarfed pine gave
- With mental sight I saw my cone-strewn grave.
- Yet nothing said to give to Jo distress,
- And—let an ending come to this digress—
- I wish to make this truth appear quite plain,
- 'Twas Jo I thought of more than hope of gain.
- Brave lad! There shone within his honest eye
- A daring will to conquer or to die.
- Perhaps 'twas that endeared him to me so,
- His fiery youth—and I so tame and slow.
- Besides my past had all been a mistake,
- While golden promise said to him, Awake!
- We started different, I had lost my chance,
- The future bade him boldly to advance.
- It seemed to me to take but little guess
- To know that Jo would make of life success.
-
-
-
-
- III.
-
-
- And Plet—for later so we found her name—
- The very idol of the camp became;
- A roguish, wilful, tomboy, sparkling girl,
- As ever set a lover's brain awhirl.
- Full of all tricks, yet gold without alloy,
- The pride of all, and all her father's joy.
- And modest, too. Her cheek with blushes burned,
- That day we heard how she her pet name earned.
- "You see," her father said, in merry mood,
- While Plet sought quick our glances to elude,
- "'Twas this way," here her face he downward drew,
- "We found it well to cut your name in two.
- Yes, darling, in those days that now are fled
- We Pretty called you, 'Pletty' your lips said.
- As Pretty were you, 'Pletty' you became,
- And soon would answer to no other name.
- But in good time the 'Pletty' came to 'Plet,'
- The name we christened you I half forget.
- This hair of brown was then all golden curls,
- Ere you had grown most naughty of all girls.
- Before this time, when you all care repay,
- With wicked guiles that turn my old head gray."
-
- Then Plet indulged in charming smile and pout—
- That she was "papa's darling" none could doubt.
- She was his all upon life's pilgrimage,
- A golden letter saved from vanished page,
- The promised solace of his closing years,
- A hope that came from out a time of tears:
- Of children born to him the first and last,
- The image of her well-loved mother passed.
-
- Such Plet—whose noble, sympathetic heart
- Had others caused to live a better part;
- A petticoated, pranksome, daring scamp,
- The dainty hoyden of a mining camp.
-
-
- [Illustration]
-
-
-
-
- PART SECOND.
-
-
-
-
- [Illustration]
-
- IV.
-
-
- Jo was pure-minded. He possessed a force
- That kept him always from the low and coarse;
- If ugly vice and sin upon him frowned,
- With head erect he firmly held his ground.
- When siren Pleasure spread her silken net
- He was not caught, nor made a conscience debt.
- They found he was not of their kind—those men,
- Who sought the brothel, drink-shop, gambling-den.
- No goody-goody—it was known at length
- His action came from courage and from strength,
- And those who make a test were sure to find
- His virtues were not of the meaner kind,
- They came from purity and clean desires.
- Not lack of passions strong, nor manly fires.
-
- 'Twas on a bright and noble summer day,
- When fast the winter snow-drifts ebbed away;
- The cloudless sky was like a crystal dome,
- When Plet and father stood within "Our Home."
- All nature blended in one vast, grand hymn
- What time their nags came o'er the hollow's rim.
- We saw them coming from our perch on high—
- How quick the love-light sprang in poor Jo's eye!—
- We hastened downward, Jo well on before,
- And met them ere they reached the cabin door.
- Their nags were hitched beneath a mighty spruce—
- One grizzled, storm-worn arm stretched out for use—
- And then—Oh! great, indeed, was Plet's delight,
- When first she gazed upon the Babel height!
- No less the gloom, the aged savageness,
- Impressed her fancy than the gorgeous dress,
- Brief summer lends to that high altitude
- Between the fierce assaults of winter rude.
- The solitude upon her senses wrought,
- Each novel sight some exclamation brought!
- We showed her "Dead Man's Corner," where was found
- A hapless miner dead and wrapped around
- With the same chilly shroud as on the day,
- The ridge he tried—by snow was swept away.
- Yet this—although it brought a pretty sigh—
- But for a moment put her gay mood by.
- The wonders of "Our Home" the girl beguiled
- And made her buoyant as a happy child.
-
- Then came a banquet. After that steep ride—
- Plet's skill equestrienne none in camp denied—
- What better than a tempting dish of fruit,—
- So true the wild our mood did try and suit.
- The visit to "Our Home" was timely sure,
- Those strawberries were fit for epicure.
- Among the creviced rocks the plants were spread,
- The just ripe berries hanging rich and red;
- And these were gathered. At their friendly board,
- In every cheer and rich abundance stored,
- We often sat. So now we gave our mite,
- Their many pleasant favors to requite.
- And yet to our desires how poor and mean,
- How all inadequate the gift did seem.
- And then came out—they seemed to think it sport—
- Our two tin plates, it was our only sort.
- But Plet's deft fingers quick transition made,
- With fresh green leaves in starry pattern laid—
- And while she praised the wild fruit's luscious taste
- We thought how she our rustic dwelling graced.
-
- The life of the prospector—lonely 'tis!
- No venture free from daily hazard his,
- But one of steady, hard, and daring toil
- He must meet danger, nor from care recoil;
- To unforeseen and sudden risks exposed,
- No cease from vigil keen his labors knows.
- And sudden wealth of all his thoughts the theme,
- He works, too, in a sort of waking dream.
- Thus the impressions he from nature drew
- Results in good and manly impulse true.
- Ah! one thing seemed to me exceeding plain—
- The sequel showed my fear was not in vain—
- That Fate had set for this young pair a trap!
- Why, any townish, high-bred, polished chap
- Had thought himself in fortune all the while
- Could he have shared that day and Plet's sweet smile;
- And weighing this—depend upon't 'twas so,—
- Think what it was for lonely, honest Jo!
- His blue eyes sparkled, one could easy trace
- The happy thoughts upon his sunburnt face.
- Did it mean joy, or would it bring regret—
- Might Jo rue sometimes that he e'er saw Plet?
- That he had nobly served them, that is true,
- They kept the thought nor gratitude outgrew;
- He'd striven hard their lives to save, and still—
- No matter how full strong his hope or will,
- How rich his manly love might prove or pure—
- This fact remained, my Jo was very poor.
- What right had he to think of such a mate,
- One far above him in this world's estate?
- But he was worthy of her, free from blame,
- Though Fortune played the lad a niggard game!
- In spite of every drawback, this I knew,
- And hoped the jade would sometime play him true;
- For poor or no poor, I could only feel
- The chance was good if she but turned her wheel.
-
- Now there's a picture I can ne'er forget;
- After these years I seem to see it yet:
- The figures you can guess were Plet and Jo,
- With background made of rocks, and lake, and snow;
- The girl half leaned upon a granite block,
- Her roguish smile my poor Jo seemed to mock,
- Part pity, part enjoyment, I believe—
- What silly stuff I did in my head weave—
- And Jo, in timid and in bashful way—
- 'Twas like a scene I once saw in a play,
- Offered a bunch of flowers. And his face,
- As he bent forward, not without grace,
- Glowed with confusion and with passion new
- As his strong heart and his strong brain were true.
- I'd better stop; I grow nonsensical.—
- A monster ledge served both for pedestal,
- Jo in his earth-stained garments, heavy boot,
- Plet in her jaunty hat and riding suit.
- Did I admire them so? Why so it seems,
- And even an old man has his need of dreams.
- A charming picture—so I think, at least,
- That couple standing where the wave released
- Fell down the mossy rocks in sparkling foam,
- The wild flowers growing from the moist, rich loam,
- And from the sun and pines mosaic shed
- O'er Plet's fair form and Jo's uncovered head.
- A landscape setting, beautiful and grand!
- The purple epilobiums in Jo's hand—
- Frail, tender blossoms, delicate and sweet,
- How strange to see them in that wild retreat!—
- Were fitting emblems, in their sudden birth,
- To soft enwrap and gladden the cold earth,
- Of that sweet office a true love fulfils,
- Whose wondrous budding all the being thrills—
- Of that enchantment grown between those two,
- The fond desire their hearts together drew!
-
-
-
-
- V.
-
-
- After that day to Jo there came a change,—
- Not that I thought the fact so very strange—
- For love had come, oh! that was plain to see,
- And from the first I felt 'twas a decree.
- I knew Jo found a heart that Plet had lost,
- And only feared their love might be ill-crossed.
- Perhaps the boy was not without his hopes
- The eve that Plet returned adown the slopes.
- Now he abstracted grew and walked alone,
- To fits of silent reverie was prone.
- That he had been a talker don't constrain,
- Jo never was a glib-tongued rattle-brain.
- For hours in silence to his work he'd stick,
- Wielding the heavy hammer or the pick;
- And I'll confess that I myself kept still.
- No time to talk much, holding to the drill.
- But at those times that we'd a moment quit,
- And pass a word to cheer us up a bit,
- I noticed that his speech was but to ask
- Concerning work—some detail of our task.
- And evenings, too, as moody as a churl
- He'd sit and watch his pipe-smoke upward curl.
- Sometimes his gaze on vacancy he'd fix,—
- And well I knew the young god played his tricks,—
- And if I spoke, some thought wished to impart,
- 'Twas all unheard, or answered with a start.
- What all this meant—who could mistake the sign?
- 'Twas plain to see as three times three are nine.
-
- So at our claim we kept; he worked as though
- A wealth must come, whether it would or no.
- A new life dwelt within my partner's breast—
- If my prayers answered, then 'twas surely blessed—
- But in that present 'twas a torture, too.
- His question was—what course can I pursue?
- Were not his hopes but built upon the sand—
- Could one so poor expect to gain Plet's hand?
- And constantly this thought his brain did seize—
- Had not sweet Plet been used to every ease?
- This truth stared out—a common miner he,—
- Alas! for him, a rich man's daughter she!
- So his dark moods I clearly understood,
- Persistent thought that all would end in good.
- Pretending not to see, I smoked my pipe,
- And thought, I'll live to see the time grow ripe.
- In proper time I knew that Jo would speak,
- As in the twilight I would watch him seek—
- To him I guess 'twas fairest of all bowers—
- The spot where he had offered Plet the flowers.
- Oft when eve's shadows deepened into nights,
- He'll look adown the slopes and watch the lights
- That we could see within the distant camp,
- Hoping, I knew, to see one special lamp—
- Which hope was more than frequent not in vain—
- The one that burned behind Plet's window pane.
- Yes, he had grown as fond as any dove;
- Beyond a doubt, poor Jo was deep in love!
-
-
-
-
- [Illustration]
-
- VI.
-
-
- Hurrah! hurrah! And true beyond a doubt!
- Hurrah! hurrah! Had we not cause to shout?
- She turned her wheel, the changeful, fickle witch;
- Yes, beyond doubt, we too had "struck it rich!"
- The blind lead we had followed many a day,
- Suddenly widened to the best of "pay."
- 'Twas purest carbonates. We had enough,
- Thousands were ours in the black, gritty "stuff!"
-
- How did it serve us? You are bound to ask,
- How did we take that climax to our task?
- 'Twas hard to answer. As I said before,
- Jo looked at wealth as though he'd force the door.
- But when he saw the end so near him lie,
- He dazed appeared and heaved a heavy sigh.
- Jo seemed as one just woke from sleep, and—well
- As though a burden from his shoulders fell.
- And unto me it came as a surprise;
- We stood and stared with dry and eager eyes.
- A pan of dirt we picked and carried where
- Our brows could feel a touch of cool, fresh air.
- I felt my temples throb, my eyeballs burn,
- My blood alternate ice or fire turn;
- I well remember how we held our breath,
- Talked hushed and low as in a house of death.
- And then we shouted—shouted long and loud,
- Shouted as though with brazen lungs endowed;
- Shouted until each voice was weak and hoarse,
- Until the wild bird fluttered in his course;
- Shouted until our friends in gray and tan—
- Across the rocks the fat ground squirrels ran;
- Until, as though he'd like to join the game,
- An answering echo from "Old Babel" came.
-
- Nor was that all, I'm half ashamed to tell
- The things we did beneath that sudden spell—
- For then we danced; yes, danced and danced again,
- 'Till I from weariness to rest was fain!
- Had any seen us they had thought us mad,
- And frenzy sure possessed myself and lad,
- For I worn out, then Joe he danced alone,
- His yellow ringlets to the free winds thrown.
- With eyes aglow, all filled with sparkling fire,
- He danced as though his limbs would never tire;
- In weird fantastic measure and wild tread
- He waved the precious dirt around my head;
- It seemed one could in his wild antics trace
- A likeness to some genie of the place.
- A wild delirium o'er our senses came
- In which the sunshine looked like silver flame;
- The rocks, the flashing wavelets, silver seemed;
- Each far-off cloud a silver palace gleamed.
- Transmuted all to our excited ken—
- Yes, silver, silver; all things silver then!
-
- How suddenly for us the world was changed;
- For us who every field of want had ranged,
- Who through long months had fought the stubborn rock,
- Met summer tempests, borne the winter's shock.
- Now the long struggle, the grim fight was o'er,
- Privations hard would be our lot no more.
- No weary toiling up or down the slope,
- Or weary hours in cold and damp to grope.
- What figures that strike meant, we hardly knew,
- We were among the very lucky few!
-
- Then came reaction—to myself I mean—
- For more or less my life had failure been.
- What truly, after all, the strike to me!
- Such as it was you can at once foresee—
- A life of toil replaced by one of ease,
- Such things of life as can an old man please.
- You see I'd grown to be a sort of sage,
- Had weighed full carefully the wants of age.
- And can a sudden flood of wealth atone
- For years of crabbed single life alone?
-
- With Jo 'twas different. My plans were few,
- With him life lay before—so much to do.
- 'Twere hard to tell what busy thoughts he kept,
- What dreams that night came to him as he slept,
- What schemes and plans he up-built prodigal—
- Of course providing that he slept at all,
- And that was doubtful. Perhaps I knew,
- Or thought they were the same as those that drew
- His feet toward the mossy torrent head,
- The same as made him watch for pale light shed,
- Toward the ridge from out the mining camp,
- And see a message in a far-off lamp:
- The same for many a day his brain beset,
- For Jo's unuttered thoughts were all of Plet!
-
-
-
-
- VII.
-
-
- But on the course of love I will not dwell,
- Or many an episode I'd have to tell.
- 'Tis hope and courage to the lover bring
- A boldness strong as is the eagle's wing.
- And Jo waxed bold, you know the reason why,
- He had a cause his hope to justify;
- Love progressed fast as ship with wind and tide,
- Ere the snow flew Plet was a promised bride.
-
- "Marry in haste and slow repent you say—
- Courtships too quick are somewhat the same way?"
- I thought not so, 'twas no ill-mated pair,
- The father of Jo's worth was well aware:
- Before the day on which our good luck came,
- I knew his thoughts of Jo were just the same
- As when the fickle maid began to smile—
- In mining parlance, when we'd made our "pile."
- A pair of good discerning eyes he had,
- That looked quite through the soul of my poor lad;
- He'd seen the worth behind rough garb and lot,
- And what he'd seen a friendship true begot,
- A generous heart within his bosom burned,
- And friendship soon to admiration turned.
- While Plet—I'll try my words not to repeat—
- Had danced along love's path with willing feet,
- The flamed barb was not a whit more slow
- To reach her heart than it had been with Jo;
- And thus before a year had slipped away,
- The smitten pair had named a wedding day.
- But ten months more was added to his life,
- And Jo saw coming—Fortune and a wife.
- What comfort 'twas to be no longer poor—
- To know a wife of his need not endure
- Such trial as oft he saw some miner's mate
- In patient silence bear from morn 'til late.
- Oh! Jo, I thought, was sure of happiness,
- And haven fair and safe from storm and stress;
- For thought of other ending I was loth,
- My prayers for them were—May God bless you both!
-
- A few short weeks our lives might be the same,
- Of course we'd not deserted yet our claim,
- 'Twas necessary we remain until
- Such time as would our obligations fill,
- And while the drill was sent or the pick drove,
- Like lusty weeds our expectations throve.
-
- Then still and tranquil grew the autumn days;
- Through hazy veils the trees began to blaze;
- The mountain summits seemed to sleep and dream;
- Of tawny richness was each lessened stream;
- Transparent amber on the birches crept;
- Orange and madder o'er the dwarf oaks swept:
- Upon the maples, in ravine or dell,
- A myriad shades of rose-carnation fell;
- The aspen groves, a wonder to behold,
- Strewed the dark rocks with leaves of paly gold;
- Wherever bunch of height—fond foliage grew,
- Each frosty night had set some splendid hue,
- And far above, beyond the somber pines,
- The wasted snow yet gleamed in argent lines;
- On every slope and steep, afar and near,
- A seal was set that marked a dying year;
- The mountains glowed in endless, gorgeous dyes,
- With pomp of woods and glory of the skies.
-
-
-
-
- PART THIRD.
-
-
-
-
- [Illustration]
-
- VIII.
-
-
- The hollow huge, where lay the dark lake cold,
- Had once been, so my observations told,
- The head of a great glacier thick and vast,
- Whose icy masses, in the years long past,
- Had with its motion, ponderous and slow,
- Ploughed out the narrow canon far below,
- And as it downward moved with growl upon,
- Smoothed the long granite ledges 'till they shone.
- No doubt the causeway, half the canon's length,
- Was by the monster piled up in his strength;
- His bristling front and ice-caves rested there,
- Ere he retreated to that upper lair.
-
- Now the wild hollow sees tremendous slides,
- That often fall concurrent from its sides.
- With force resistless and with thunders loud
- They beat the lake into a misty cloud,
- Or out of their deep bed the waters sweep,
- To pass in hissing floods adown the steep.
- Thus once had Jo and I beheld them fall,
- A sight and sound the stoutest to appal.
-
- 'Twas more than once there came to me a thought,
- Why tempt adversity more than one ought?
- Our cabin—did it stand in place quite safe,
- Would Providence our welfare still vouchsafe?
- The cabin stood on a low ridge or mound
- That heretofore the slides had passed around.
- So I believed that they would do once more—
- I did not see the shadow at our door—
- And then—the time was brief we had to stay,
- We thought that quick—and it would pass away.
-
- Procrastination—'tis the miner's bane!
- To wait, put off, to loiter, he is fain;
- He stubborn is and, whether right or wrong,
- Keeps to his moods and faces odds too long;
- Oh! only beck and voice of Chance he heeds,
- And follows blind and deaf where'er she leads.
-
- The golden autumn days had sudden end,
- And darkly wild we saw the storms extend;
- With chilly notes November's wind piped loud,
- Along the mountain side the tall pines bowed;
- From out ravine and glen and bushy aisles,
- The crisped leaves were heaped in russet piles;
- Or without moment's pause or respite given
- Were in the pale, swol'n torrents fiercely driven.
- Then came the masses of dull, leaden cloud,
- That like gray specters did each other crowd;
- Cold drenching rains fell in the vales below,
- But on the mountains changed to heavy snow.
- With winding sheet it did all things efface;
- The heights above "Our Home" grew white apace:
- On earth was whiteness, on the sky was frown;
- By day and night the flakes were wafted down;
- Swirled round and round and wildly drifted o'er
- Until it seemed the steeps could bear no more,
- And in vast combs, along the winding wall,
- The avalanche hung poised for instant fall!
-
-
-
-
- IX.
-
-
- 'Twas night, and seated by our cabin board
- We listened to the wind that shrieked and roared,
- If we had erred 'twas now beyond reform—
- We were held fast by reason of the storm.
- For one whole week it raged without allay,
- Nor sign had come that it would yield its sway.
- Yes, fairly through our rashness we were caught,
- And I to blame, for I was better taught:
- The blasts still came, the snow unceasing fell,
- Our log-built hut became a citadel.
- Across the hollow, we could hear them rave,
- And more and more my judgment I misgave;
- Hurled wild against the walls each wintry corps,
- We hardly dared to open once the door.
-
- And that night too! That night of all the year—
- How very strange sometimes decrees appear!
- A twelvemonth since we'd saved his future mate,
- And now poor Jo touched by the hand of fate!
- Strange, strange indeed, that it should happen then—
- You see it was the Christmas Eve again!
-
- With feet upon the stove my poor boy sat,
- I'd tried to help his mood with this and that;
- Our miner's lamp down from a huge beam hung,
- And o'er our cheerless room its rays it flung.
- Within his hand Jo, listless, held a book,
- But half the time his eye the page forsook;
- He could not read and yet a silence kept—
- What meant that change that o'er his features crept?
- There was in his pale face too strange a blend,
- I did not like whate'er it might portend;
- So by the red and dim uncertain light
- I watched his face and heard how wild the night;
- My head was leaned in thought against my bunk,
- I own I was in dark forebodings sunk—
- For once since I had met him I was blue,
- That we were there appeared great cause to rue.
- To keep this fact from Jo's quick sense I tried,
- With cheery words my inmost thought belied;
- But now by dull, cold fear I felt assailed,
- Before some power invisible I quailed.
-
- A strange world this! How full of woe and weal,
- What play of fate and chance our lives reveal!
- Our lightest word may prove a dread command,
- The balance turns with a mere grain of sand;
- We do that trifle; and go here or there,
- Speak or keep silent,—joy bring or despair!
- One moment's action may prove as a knife,
- The thread to cut and make or mar a life!
-
- As thus I mused—what had I done for Jo?
- Sudden he spoke—"'Twas right that we should go,"
- It startled me,—his words were but a chime;
- 'Twas clear our thoughts unspoken had kept time:
- Who should he think of now if not of Plet?
- Oh! how she would at his forced absence fret!
- The yester-morn 'twas his desire to start,
- But I, the elder, played the cautious part;
- To try the slopes too dangerous did appear,—
- To me the thought itself was madness sheer.
- Why, could we in such storm have kept our breath?
- It would have been a challenge sent to death.
- Yet now, so strong my mood within me wrought.
- I would have ventured without moment's thought.
- Would I had done so! Then I'd blameless been;
- Another end—but that was all unseen!
-
- Ere I made answer, Jo had spoke again—
- I was surprised and troubled at his vein—
- His spoken musings saddest tenor bore,
- There was a break, too, from his words before:—
-
- Strange question surely with so sad a brow—
- "What should prevent my being happy now?
- Oh! Yes, I know what power the rich command;
- I've seen the true and brave hard want withstand;
- My sister, dead—Ah! even as I speak,
- I see again her flushed and wasted cheek.
- Yes, she was working for the sweaters then—
- Most brutal, mean, and sordid of all men—
- It killed her! Yes, she slowly drooped and pined,
- Sunk 'neath her load and mother's loss combined;
- Her task was all too great, nor bold nor strong,
- An orphan left amid the heedless throng.
- Oh! I was nothing but an urchin small,
- My help was little, if 'twas help at all;
- 'Twas cruel, cruel that she suffered so;
- On my account I know she feared to go.
- She shared her little when she ill could spare;
- Would that with her my hope I now might share.
- What happiness it would to me impart,
- Could she but live and heal again her heart.
- My mother, too,—to me her face is dim—
- It fills my mem'ry like some vague, sweet hymn—
- Yet though I cannot see her face aright,
- I feel her dark eyes look in mine tonight."
-
- My Jo was sad indeed and sore oppressed,
- His happy prospects did not bring him rest;
- And I, too—I was filled with cold alarm,
- Some premonition of impending harm!
- I felt a warning through my being creep,
- And he sat brooding as I fell asleep.
-
-
-
-
- X.
-
-
- Crash! crash!! crash!!!—O God, what awful roar!
- It bursts upon my hearing ever more!
- A rush, a fury; sudden, bitter cold;
- Confusion utter on my senses rolled;
- A rending, grinding; hiss of sliding snow;
- Enormous mixing of dread sounds below;
- A noise terrific, wonderful and vast,
- As though of earthly things it told the last;
- Like trump of doom it seemed to rend the sky,
- And turn the brain to numbness——Where was I?
- Half stunned I sat bolt upright in my bunk;
- My head swam round as if I had been drunk.
- The sudden noise had ended, all was still,
- And yet a tremor did the darkness fill;
- Our lamp still burned, a red spot in the gloom,
- But all was chill and silent as a tomb.
- I was too dazed, too lost to understand,
- Yet felt the snow drift on my face and hand.
-
- I called aloud to Jo. No answer came.
- I called, again, again, and 'twas the same!
-
- What was it? Where was Jo? What did it mean?
- What meant that vacancy where Jo had been!
- His bunk was empty, and the stove was—where?
- Was that Jo's hat upon the table there?
- In sort of dreamy spell I stared and asked,
- But to the answering felt myself o'ertasked.
- Why did our cabin wall so whitish grow—
- Why did it look so very much like snow?
- In distance, too, I saw it slow expand,
- And still I felt the snow on face and hand.
-
- Then I was wide awake! My mind was cleared—
- Oh, all too plain the dreadful truth appeared!
- The slides! the slides! "Our Home" was wrecked by slides!
- And there was terror in this thought besides—
- My Jo? Ah! God of Mercy! where was Jo?
- Did he lie bleeding on the rocks below?
- "Our Home" was struck, there but remained the half—
- Oh, then I seemed to hear the dark fates laugh!
- Not one thing touched or moved where I had lain,
- And Jo, perhaps, hurled down to ghastly pain.
- Down, down the slopes he had been whirled away,
- Ere this it might be—was but lifeless clay:
- Was that a voice that called on me to come,
- While I stood there in anguish, terror-dumb?
-
- Outside the wreck—when I stood there at last,
- The storm rolled back—as if in mockery passed;
- A scene of desolation, weird and white,
- Beneath the parting clouds fell on my sight;
- Like to a lamp the moon hung wan and pale,
- As though it lit the path through death's own vale.
- My pair of snow-shoes from the wall I took—
- Jo's hung there with them on the self-same hook—
- Then to my belt a miner's lamp I tied,
- Seized the long pole that would my steep course guide;
- Though frantic in my fear, all desperate,
- I must my acts in order regulate.
- Well that some little skill I could command,
- Well that I know each foot of mountain land;
- Or never could I, had it not been so,
- Have reached the spot where I, at last, found Jo.
-
- The snow was wildly drifted; rocks were bare,
- The white blown from them to make mounds in air;
- The surface here all soft and loose did feel,
- Here 'twas hard-packed and smooth as polished steel.
- The slides had met above—there had been two—
- Their mighty tracks stretched upward full in view;
- Where they had joined in fierce and deadly shock
- Was piled on high the tons of shattered rock.
- One had possessed a greater power and force
- And drove the other from its downward course—
- You see how all conspired to change our luck—
- That swerve was why the cabin had been struck;
- And far below, in a small valley penned,
- The rushing snow was forced to make an end,
- A level space with rocks all jagged and sharp,
- The first uplifting of the counterscarp.
- If Jo against those cruel rocks was borne,
- Oh, then, I knew, was come my time to mourn!
-
- And hidden dangers it was mine to face,
- A moment, I believe, I asked for grace;
- Then without pause I glided down the slope,
- In that hot fire that burns 'tween fear and hope.
- I knew not where to pause or where to look;
- The awful wreckage all my courage shook;
- He might be crushed by boulder or tree-trunk,
- Or out of reach in some ravine be sunk.
- Each object dark that on the surface lay
- Plucked at my heart and filled me with dismay.
- What likely seemed within the shadows dim,
- I hoped, yet dreaded, that it might be him!
-
- What were those timbers sticking through the snow?
- I hardly dared another glance bestow.
- Ah! what were they it needed little proof,
- 'Twas splintered fragments of our cabin roof:
- And what was that black something lying there?
- 'Twas Jo's great coat that hung upon his chair.
- Was he, then, somewhere near? Oh! could I save?
- One choking thump I felt that my heart gave,
- Then in my bosom it was turned to lead.
- Where was he? Was he yet alive—or dead?
-
-
-
-
- [Illustration]
-
- XI.
-
-
- Quite dead! All hopeless, my poor Jo was dead!
- Yes, all too soon I knew that life had fled!
- Oh! not the slightest flutter at his heart;
- No warmth to his cold lips could I impart;
- I could not bring the breath to my poor mate,
- I'd found him; but, ah, God! I'd found too late!
-
- Oh! what I suffered I can never tell,
- It seemed to me I tasted then of hell!
- Despair came o'er me, I was dazed with grief,
- As palsy struck I trembled like a leaf.
- Would I go mad? Yes, without thought or aim,
- I smoothed Jo's brow and called upon his name;
- Strange and unnatural my voice with woe,
- And lost at once amid the wreaths of snow!
- Should I feel shame that grief did me unman—
- That down my furrowed cheeks the hot tears ran?
- That night I learned what friendship true can be;
- How near a son the lad had been to me.
- Before that hour no gray my locks o'er cast,
- And after that the white came thick and fast.
-
- 'Twas by the wreckage, some ten yards away,
- And near the surface that my poor boy lay,
- One hand thrust upward, as in mute appeal.
- Alas! my frenzied clasp he could not feel!
- Upon his other hand each fingernail
- Furrowed the flesh, did deep the palm impale.
- Oh, it was gruesome! Oft I've seen it so,
- Upon the hands of those killed by the snow.
-
- What could I do—when bitter tears and grief
- Passed to a dull despair beyond relief?
- When I was sure that I all power did lack;
- That tears and labor could not bring him back?
- Must I make ready for a solemn task—
- The end of which I dared not see nor ask?
- Dimly, through all the rack of ache and pain,
- I knew the truth—Jo could not there remain;
- And then the thought upon my brain dawned slow,
- That I must take him to the camp below.
-
- Oh! friend, who listens calmly to this tale,
- Did it show weakness that my heart should fail?
- That I before the coming task did shrink—
- Held back as one upon a chasm's brink?
- "Not so," you say? I hope in all the sum
- Of your life's days such task may never come!
-
- Close by our cabin we had kept a sled,
- Thereon awhile poor Jo must find a bed.
- Oft he had pulled beside me on the slope—
- Brave, honest Jo, when he was filled with hope;
- Now he would be the burden it must bear.
- Hard pang it gave to go and leave him there;
- Lying so rigid, lonely and so still,
- He did with fearfulness the wild scene fill!
- I seemed to see all nature through a pall,
- A sign of death was written over all,—
- Life, hope, fate, death; the helplessness of men—
- The mystery of all weighed on me then!
-
- Across the sled I laid pine-branches deep,
- Placed Jo upon them in his endless sleep;
- With his own blankets wrapped the body o'er—
- Under their folds he'd dream of love no more—
- And when I'd fitting made his bed at last,
- With long, stout cords I tightly bound all fast;
- Felt one deep surge of pain my breast within,
- And, then—my course was ready to begin.
-
- Then downward; downward, in pale light of dawn,
- Down the steep slopes and ledges long outdrawn.
- Over the snowy hillocks, mighty drifts,
- Across ice-bridges o'er the deep-made rifts,
- Down, down the hidden trail we knew so well—
- Within my ears a sound like passing bell;
- My heart like fire, my throbbing brow cold-damp,
- As, in the wintry noon, I reached the camp.
- Oh, awful hour! My task of tasks came yet,
- Ah, God! how could I bear the news to Plet?
-
-
-
-
- XII.
-
-
- Fear not,—I shall not tell of all the woe,
- The misery Jo's death did clear foreshow.
- Why should I try those dark hours to recall,
- Dwell on the blank that fell upon us all?
- O regal Death, you wear a changeful crown,
- You come with gentle smile or tyrant frown!
- We know sometimes with terror you assail,
- Or to sweet rest you touch the eyelids pale:
- That to the living, from your unseen train,
- Too oft remorse doth bring its aching pain,
- And to the sorrows that bereavement brings,
- The earthly needings like a horror clings.
-
- Too dreadful was the time between the day
- I reached the camp and he was laid away.
- Yes, I have lived through saddened hours and dark,
- Known trials that on life have left their mark;
- I've my own share of keenest anguish seen,
- For all too soon my life had failure been;
- I knew what 'twas to miss the hoped-for goal,
- And feel the iron enter in my soul;
- Yet only then I saw all hope depart,
- To come no more when Jo received death's dart;
- And still more black became the gloom profound,
- Between that hour and the burial ground.
-
- Her father told her—how I do not know.
- When I told him, he reeled as from a blow;
- I did not dare to go and look on her,
- Of tidings evil I the messenger.
- Yet later in her sorrow I could share
- When in the dusk we took Jo's body there.
-
- A dreary, dreary winter day was that,
- Deep lay the snow upon the lonesome flat;
- Slowly the big white flakes were falling round,
- And in a deeper shroud the hills enwound.
- You should not think the hands of friends forgot
- To dig a pathway to the chosen spot.
- Slowly through white the black procession passed,
- And stood beside the open grave at last.
- Plet, speechless, tearless, to her father clung,
- A sight so pitiful each heart was wrung.
- By one most worthy a few lines were read,
- In simple service for untimely dead.
- The end was reached when, like a sudden knell,
- The clods all frozen on the coffin fell.
-
- Nor was there lack of kindly effort made
- To ease the grief on her so heavy laid.
- All in the camp had hunger in their heart
- To her some grain of comfort to impart;
- But such her feeling that they must forego,
- And leave her silent in her utter woe.
-
-
-
-
- [Illustration]
-
- XIII.
-
-
- And after that all is to me quite vague,
- My memory seemed smitten by a plague;
- A strange uncertainty did all confuse,
- Things and events I saw through changing hues.
- My merry Plet, sweet as the sun shone on,
- I saw like a cut flower all droop and wan,
- Or one that's stricken by a cruel frost,
- Or like a weary bird, that's tempest-tossed.
- She who had been so lively and so gay
- Changed to a spirit that might pass away.
- How soon the dawn of love so rosy bright
- Had given place to dark and solemn night!
- Her only wish now seemed to be alone,
- To listen for a word in that loved tone—
- Yes, she who longed to meet the future years,
- Now backward looked and through a mist of tears.
-
- And doubt and fear obscure oppressed my brain,
- My mind was clouded by a nameless pain,
- And o'er and o'er again came this dark thought,
- She too must go—she but a long rest sought;
- On other paths than ours she soon must wend,
- Her broken heart foreshadowed but this end.
-
- Her father wished to take her from the place,
- But Plet begged hard for little time of grace.
- He to remove her from those scenes was fain,
- She to look on them still would there remain.
- How could she go and leave that new-made grave,
- When, to be near, her only comfort gave?
- Ah, all unlike is woman to the man!
- And yet we know 'tis to some noble plan—
- Man in his strength, the past lets go its way,
- Though thus forever some great hope decay!
- But woman, loving, tender, still clings fast,
- And hopeless yearns until the very last;
- Keeps sacred in her heart and holds supreme
- Whate'er remains of her sweet broken dream.
-
- And so that grave held Plet with unseen power.
- Was there some influence at their natal hour?
- Oh, yes, to me the sequel seemed to show
- That they were linked indeed for weal or woe!
-
- And so there came again a summer day,
- With Plet and father climbing up the way.
- What madness filled his brain to let her come?
- The very sight with anguish struck me dumb.
- I knew she struggled with her love in vain,
- 'Twas hopelessness that brought her once again.
- The same wild flowers were growing by the lake,
- As when she first came for my poor Jo's sake.
- Can the eyes speak farewell? Oh! if they can,
- How simple was the key to her sad plan.
- She only came with her dead hope to part,
- To be where love had entered in her heart!
-
- And now there came that looked-for scene and last,
- To which that other seemed but a forecast;
- Once more the great white flakes were falling slow,
- To wrap in fleecy folds the earth below.
- A year with all its changes had gone round
- Since Jo was buried in that mountain ground,
- The third of that glad season since they met,
- And now I saw the grave close over Plet.
-
- For he had promised—kept the promise true,
- Nor death nor circumstance should part those two.
- And now that vow the stricken father made,
- We with bowed heads in silence saw obeyed.
- Her happiness had been his own, and why
- Should he her last and fondest wish deny?
- And that last wish had almost been a prayer,
- That she might lie beside her lover there.
-
- The Christmas Eve—it weighed upon my heart,
- It seemed the hot tears from my eyes must start;
- In anguish o'er my brow I passed my hand,
- Life seemed no surer than a rope of sand:
- The Christmas Eve with dire importance fraught,
- Plet and her father 'neath the wild snows caught;
- The Christmas Eve and Jo swept to his death,
- Upon the jagged rocks to yield his breath,
- And Christmas Eve again, and Plet asleep,
- Where on the flat the snow lay cold and deep.
- The Christmas Eve, I whispered o'er and o'er,
- While echoes seemed to come from a far shore.
- Oh, why so fateful to them was that night—
- Why did it always bring so sad a plight?
- I tried an answer to my words to frame—
- But no solution to the question came;
- I choking struggled with the hopeless task,
- And life for death did only seem a mask;
- I felt all hope was but sad pretence when
- Their voices I should never hear again!
-
-
-
-
- FINALE.
-
-
-
-
- XIV.
-
-
- All stuff and nonsense! Never hear them? What!
- Their voices hear no more? Believe it not!
- How! Voice of Jo or Plet not hear again?
- Indeed! Pray whose voice was I hearing then?
- Whose voice was that—bright, joyous, full and clear—
- A voice that rang with every note of cheer!
- Whose voice, indeed, if not the voice of Jo?—
- And you'll concede I was the one to know.
- My dear boy's voice as lusty as of old,—
- Oh, no, he was not 'neath the graveyard mold!
- His voice I heard proclaim it was the morn,
- The sun was shining and the storm outworn—
- And then, ere I could drink my happy cup,
- Cut my thoughts short with orders to "get up!"
-
- So all those things so dreadful were not true—
- 'Twas but a nightmare I had just passed through:
- It was not fact our cabin had been struck,
- No end so sad had come to mar our luck!
- All false those hours upon the mountain side;
- Jo's body down the slopes I did not guide;
- He was not dead, nor Plet! It did but seem;
- All a mistake, then, nothing but a dream!
-
- Thank God it was so! That the heaped-up snow
- Ourselves and cabin had not hurled below,
- That there was One of Mercy that did spare,
- Although ourselves had entered in the snare!
- Thank Heaven, again, 'twas but Jo's mournful word,
- To tragedy in my weak head transferred!
-
- You know what governs in a Christmas Tale—
- That joyfully to end it must not fail,—
- So as this life page I was telling you,
- Such end of course I always kept in view.
- To take the actual from the false apart,
- You see it really needs but little art—
- Such rights as others take, I did but claim,
- If I have pleased you, then I've gained my aim.
-
- Oh, all unlike our trip upon the slope,
- To that one of my dream bereft of hope!
- The wintry sun had driven back the night,
- All glistening lay the snow beneath his light.
- As we sped downwards in unbounded zeal
- Our snow-shoes sent the spray from off our heel,
- The mountain hare, behind some bank cowered low,
- We sent in scurry wild across the snow.
- You never then had truly guessed my years,
- That I was mad with gladness plain appears!
- Jo's hot young blood in me seemed to have place,
- And merrily with him I kept the race.
- To see them stand together, O, what joy—
- Plet all in smiles beside my darling boy;
- To hear the music of her gentle voice
- Made every fiber in my heart rejoice.
- They looked like pair upon some antique vase,
- My Jo all strength, and she all sweetest grace.
- And when I thought, instead of grave and shroud,
- It was the bridal feast, I laughed aloud!
-
- And what a feast it was, too, when it came;
- In that high camp you'll find it still has fame!
- From lonely spots the guests came far and wide,
- And Plet, indeed, was lovely as a bride.
- You'll guess, of course, as best man I stood there,
- And heard "Good Wishes" heaped upon the pair.
- For that flushed look of pride who could blame Jo—
- As on Plet's lips he did the kiss bestow?
- I think we might as well own up as not—
- That single life is but a dreary lot!
- I'll bother you no more about our claim,
- Or what the mine itself in time became—
- The miner often will too much expect,
- Yet our first guess was far below correct.
- 'Tis business here has caused me to sojourn
- Until the pair from wedding trip return.
- Of course they make their home in that same west
- That gave Jo wealth and brought a love the best;
- And I?—Yes, I am for the mountains, too;
- Strange how their magic will a man pursue!
- Yes, they will follow whereso'er you go,
- As they who love them once will always know.
- Another word,—to tell you all complete—
- I feel again an itching in my feet;
- "The Miner's Fever!" Give it once a hold,
- It comes to stay, and burns in young and old:
-
- Shall I go to the Wasatch?—Why, of course!
- To keep away requires the greater force.
- And yet "Our Home" I almost dread to see—
- Where metal's found there comes a stern decree—
- The varied beauties of the mountain wild
- To serve our greed are for the time defiled;
- Each sturdy worker smites and cannot spare,
- He follows law and makes deep havoc there.
-
- And in the mining camp each blast I hear,
- But echoes of those others will appear—
- Those that above the snowy heights were borne,
- To celebrate the happy Christmas Morn,
- Those blasts by which his joy the miner tells,
- And which we used in lieu of Wedding Bells!
-
-
-
-
- [Illustration]
-
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-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Plet: A Christmas Tale of the Wasatch, by Alfred Lambourne</p>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
-at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
-are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
-country where you are located before using this eBook.
-</div>
-
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Plet: A Christmas Tale of the Wasatch</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Alfred Lambourne</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 17, 2021 [eBook #66961]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Guus Snijders and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLET: A CHRISTMAS TALE OF THE WASATCH ***</div>
-
-<div class='tnotes'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div>Transcriber's note:</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c000'>A few errors in punctuation have been silently restored,
-otherwise the original spelling was retained.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div>
- <h1 class='c001'>PLET: A CHRISTMAS TALE OF THE WASATCH</h1>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/frontis.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div><span class='xxlarge'><b>PLET:</b></span></div>
- <div class='c003'>A CHRISTMAS TALE OF THE WASATCH</div>
- <div class='c004'>BY</div>
- <div>ALFRED LAMBOURNE</div>
- <div class='c002'>The Deseret News</div>
- <div>1909</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c004'>
- <div>Copyright, 1891, 1894, 1906, by</div>
- <div>Alfred Lambourne</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c004'>
- <div>TO</div>
- <div>HOLD FROM OBLIVION AWHILE, AND TO PRESENT</div>
- <div>TO MY CHILDREN,</div>
- <div>THE MEMORIES OF HOURS</div>
- <div>PASSED AT THE PLACE DESCRIBED HEREIN AS</div>
- <div>OUR HOME.</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>
- <h3 class='c001'>PLET: A CHRISTMAS TALE OF THE WASATCH.</h3>
-</div>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc007.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_0'>
-A tale from out my western life you say?<br />
-Something to while the Christmas Eve away;<br />
-And something, too, to suit this festal time,<br />
-With two old bachelors, long past their prime,<br />
-Who as they sip in solitude their wine,<br />
-Are filled with memories of Auld Lang Syne?<br />
-Well,&mdash;I grant it. Yet why did you add,<br />
-Something to suit the time? I shall be glad&mdash;<br />
-But was the last a tongue slip? Let it go.<br />
-Still, why I asked, the tale will clearly show.<br />
-As I proceed and still you care to hear,<br />
-You'll find it suits this night of all the year.<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>Oh, yes! to fill your wish I'm full inclined,<br />
-I need but voice the thoughts within my mind,<br />
-And then the task's completed. All comes back<br />
-On every Christmas Eve, I never lack<br />
-Of food for thought. That time I'll ne'er forget<br />
-In future years, though distant may be set<br />
-My time for going. When my younger mate&mdash;<br />
-But why as writers say&mdash;anticipate?<br />
-You'll find the tale, perhaps, a trifle sad,<br />
-When every dictum says it should be glad.<br />
-And&mdash;hope the last will not astonish you&mdash;<br />
-Once in a while a little preachy, too.<br />
-And mixed with love, a subject&mdash;well, heigh, ho!<br />
-Something that we are not supposed to know.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>PART FIRST.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>
- <h3 class='c001'>I.</h3>
-</div>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc011.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_1'>
-Crash! crash!! crash!!! A heavy, thunderous sound,<br />
-Re-echoed from the snow-clad mountains round.<br />
-Then shrieks and voices hoarse came through the night<br />
-And far below we saw the lantern's light,&mdash;<br />
-It was the slides again! Through misty damp,<br />
-We hastened downward to the stricken camp.<br />
-<br />
-The Christmas Eve! Ill time had chosen Fate<br />
-To work her will and joy annihilate!<br />
-Women and children lay beneath that snow,<br />
-And many a bronzed cheek was touched with woe.<br />
-Think not those men who toil amid the hills<br />
-Lack generous fire that noble bosom fills.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>Their hearts are tender and their hearts are true,<br />
-Their sympathies come quick as mountain dew.<br />
-I've been at many rescues; seen the tears<br />
-Fill manly eyes, when hope came after fears.<br />
-Seen cheeks turn pale, as from their prisons deep,<br />
-Crushed, lifeless forms were lifted in last sleep:<br />
-As some dear comrade, thought past hope, beneath<br />
-The hard-pack'd snow, was found to live&mdash;to breathe.<br />
-Oh, true those brawny delvers of the mines,<br />
-Though in their fashion they are rough at times!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Have you ever seen a snow-slide?&mdash;No?<br />
-Ah! oft I've wished their pictures to outgrow!<br />
-I've drunk a drop or two the thoughts to drown,<br />
-'Tis hard, sometimes, to keep emotion down.<br />
-Soon we had rescued four; and found three&mdash;dead;<br />
-A father, mother, child. The cradle-head<br />
-Stood by the shattered wall, and close there hung&mdash;<br />
-Not one but felt his heart with pity wrung&mdash;<br />
-The child's blue, tiny stocking. On the man<br />
-Lay the roof-tree; we hardly dared to scan<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>With sidelong glance the sight. But wife nor child<br />
-The snow had marr'd, for still the mother smiled;<br />
-The little hands were clasped as if in prayer&mdash;<br />
-As lisped words but echoed mother's there,<br />
-Or as the thoughts were filled with visions bright,<br />
-Of what the eyes should see at dawn of light.<br />
-Alas! those eyes would open never more;<br />
-How quick their time for smiles and tears was o'er!<br />
-The clasped hands that toy should never lift<br />
-Saint Nicholas had brought for Christmas gift.<br /></p>
-
-<p class='c000'>And so we worked, and ere the darkness fled<br />
-Six others we had placed among the dead,<br />
-But none we found were living. Nine there lay<br />
-All stark upon the snow, that black night's prey.<br />
-Where it would end, there was no time to ask,<br />
-As steadily we held the grewsome task.<br />
-We did our best&mdash;I'm over sixty now,<br />
-And strife with Fortune early lined my brow&mdash;<br />
-So I, when overcome with labor sheer,<br />
-A lantern held or uttered words of cheer.<br /></p>
-
-<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>At last we reached them&mdash;all too late it seemed,<br />
-So pale their faces as the cold morn gleamed.<br />
-Around the father's neck her arms were flung,<br />
-As if in terror from her couch she sprung,<br />
-When first upon her ears came, faint and low,<br />
-The distant rumble of the loosened snow.<br />
-Lovely she lay in her long, broidered robe,<br />
-Her brown hair rippling o'er each argent globe<br />
-Of her ripe bosom's wealth. A long lash press'd<br />
-Silken on either cheek. Even when oppressed<br />
-By death's close presence&mdash;she was lovely then,<br />
-But still more lovely as those days came when<br />
-Her cheeks with health were red, and in her eye<br />
-The light of friendship shone, and, by and by,<br />
-The tender look of love. No wonder Jo<br />
-Lost then and there his heart. The girl to know<br />
-Was prelude sure to loving. Wonderful<br />
-Indeed, had he not loved her. And a full<br />
-And generous destiny appeared to say,<br />
-You'll stand together on your Wedding Day.<br />
-Whene'er I saw them happy side by side,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>My foolish heart said, "Jo has found his bride."<br />
-Perhaps when heart's for heart, there is a link<br />
-We do not understand. I sometimes think<br />
-Love called to love from Death's dark portico&mdash;<br />
-Or else what urged the lad to labor so?<br />
-'Twas he who, reverent, raised her in his arms,<br />
-All mute at her sweet face and maiden charms.<br />
-My full belief it was that from the grave<br />
-The girl had come to wed my boy so brave.<br />
-But not so fast, old Time has chastened me,<br />
-For who can tell what Fate will say, shall be!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Yes, once again the story all revives&mdash;<br />
-Strange part the Christmas Eve played in their lives!<br /></p>
-
-<h3 class='c001'>II.</h3>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc015.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_1'>
-Our Home&mdash;that is our cabin, Jo's and mine,<br />
-A single room to dwell in, sleep or dine,<br />
-Stood in a hollow near the mountain top,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>Where massive walls the blue sky seemed to prop.<br />
-A stern, bleak, strange, a lonely rugged place<br />
-From whence down-looking one could distant trace<br />
-The far-sunk canon and the ledges damp<br />
-That sloped toward the little mining camp.<br />
-A Babylonish pile at one end rose<br />
-On which lay through the year the spiral snows;<br />
-And at the other, lichened, richly mossed,<br />
-Inlaid by nature's hand, all wild up-tossed,<br />
-A mass of terraces did steeply lean,<br />
-While tumbled debris lay these heights between.<br />
-And higher still the hoary mountain passed<br />
-Into a peak, all naked, pale, and vast;<br />
-Bleached into gray, but marked with mineral stain&mdash;<br />
-The source of which it was our hope to gain.<br />
-So thus we tunneled and did slow proceed,<br />
-Striving from day to day to reach "the lead."<br />
-Across the debris lay a zig-zag track<br />
-Our feet had made in climbing up and back.<br />
-And 'tween our claim and cabin, lost in sleep,<br />
-A mountain lake lay cold, and dark, and deep.<br /></p>
-
-<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>Three years we lived there&mdash;in that hollow stern,<br />
-The mountain's sights and voices well did learn.<br />
-Peered down the ledges sunk in watery gloom,<br />
-Beheld the flowers that exhaled rich perfume.<br />
-By the lake margin they in myriads grew&mdash;<br />
-Unfolded there the starry asters blue;<br />
-Around each boulder, ere the snow was old,<br />
-Came gleaming buttercups in rings of gold;<br />
-Where swift the gathered waters fell away,<br />
-Forget-me-nots were drenched in crystal spray.<br />
-The mimulus, the brush, geraniums bright,<br />
-Lit up the shadows with a sunny light.<br />
-These sounds we heard&mdash;the new-born torrent's plaint,<br />
-The bird-like chirp of hidden squirrel faint;<br />
-And others, too, uncanny, savage, wild&mdash;<br />
-The wind that fiend-like shrieked 'mong rocks all aisled,<br />
-Anon, oh, dreadful sound! the thunder-peal,<br />
-When e'en the giant mountain seemed to reel.<br />
-Sometimes the echo of a distant blast&mdash;<br />
-Which sound of promise made our hearts beat fast&mdash;<br />
-Full many a sound that made our bosoms swell;<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>Oh, yes, we learned to know the mountains well!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>But who was Jo? We met upon the slope<br />
-When I, at least, was well-nigh without hope.<br />
-I'd struggled long&mdash;it was my fate, you see&mdash;<br />
-Had been held down by dark adversity.<br />
-But from the moment I met Jo&mdash;'twas change,<br />
-Then for my life began an upward range.<br />
-Upon the cliffs of purple, iron-gray,<br />
-Heavy and wan, the clouds held fast that day.<br />
-The Tower of Babel, in the thick murk gloom'd,<br />
-Like to a mighty, spectral shadow loom'd<br />
-Dim, black, gigantic, save for lines of snow<br />
-Reflected vaguely in the lake below.<br />
-And clouds as heavy on the peak did rest,<br />
-While vapors white lay wild along each crest.<br />
-'Twas ominous truly, but sudden&mdash;lo, behold!<br />
-The sunbeams darted through the thick enfold.<br />
-And then was transformation! 'Twas a sign&mdash;<br />
-An omen surely good, I did divine.<br />
-We stood and gazed in silence. All the moss<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>Seemed turned to emerald fire by the cross<br />
-Of slanting sunbeams. Silver flash they gave<br />
-To edge of every shoreward lapping wave.<br />
-And then the flowers! As by magic turned,<br />
-Each rain-wet leaf as topaz, ruby, burned!<br />
-Oh, 'twas inspiring! But why more recite?<br />
-Our friendship dated from that glorious sight.<br />
-I thought that Fortune dealt anew the cards,<br />
-When Jo consented to try luck as "pards."</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Nor did I rue it. 'Twas a well-fought game.<br />
-Ere that day ended we had staked a claim.<br />
-Led by a hope not easy to dispel,<br />
-We built our hut by that deep mountain well.<br />
-And there we lived. All gloomy thoughts we quelled,<br />
-Believed success was in the future held.<br />
-Oft we would sit beside our cabin door,<br />
-Each chance of winning look at o'er and o'er;<br />
-And as we lit and smoked a friendly pipe,<br />
-We'd boast how Fortune's hair we'd tightly gripe.<br />
-We saw the yellow twilight in the west<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>Grow dim and fade upon the mountain's breast.<br />
-Oft when the lake and crags had turned to jet,<br />
-The moon came up and found us watchers yet.<br />
-Dear lad, I loved him truly as my life,&mdash;<br />
-In those three years we passed no word of strife;<br />
-I played the father, he was like a son.<br />
-Alas! the end to that so well begun!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>A curious fact&mdash;and why not tell it here?<br />
-Though you may think it just a little queer&mdash;<br />
-I wished when my time came, and I lay dead,<br />
-Within that hollow, Jo should make my bed.<br />
-In some strange way&mdash;I scarce can make it clear,<br />
-Nor in my hopefulness should it appear&mdash;<br />
-That one of us would live to see his mate,<br />
-The labors of his life there terminate.<br />
-And so, in shelter that a dwarfed pine gave<br />
-With mental sight I saw my cone-strewn grave.<br />
-Yet nothing said to give to Jo distress,<br />
-And&mdash;let an ending come to this digress&mdash;<br />
-I wish to make this truth appear quite plain,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>'Twas Jo I thought of more than hope of gain.<br />
-Brave lad! There shone within his honest eye<br />
-A daring will to conquer or to die.<br />
-Perhaps 'twas that endeared him to me so,<br />
-His fiery youth&mdash;and I so tame and slow.<br />
-Besides my past had all been a mistake,<br />
-While golden promise said to him, Awake!<br />
-We started different, I had lost my chance,<br />
-The future bade him boldly to advance.<br />
-It seemed to me to take but little guess<br />
-To know that Jo would make of life success.<br /></p>
-
-<h3 class='c001'>III.</h3>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc021.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_1'>
-And Plet&mdash;for later so we found her name&mdash;<br />
-The very idol of the camp became;<br />
-A roguish, wilful, tomboy, sparkling girl,<br />
-As ever set a lover's brain awhirl.<br />
-Full of all tricks, yet gold without alloy,<br />
-The pride of all, and all her father's joy.<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>And modest, too. Her cheek with blushes burned,<br />
-That day we heard how she her pet name earned.<br />
-"You see," her father said, in merry mood,<br />
-While Plet sought quick our glances to elude,<br />
-"'Twas this way," here her face he downward drew,<br />
-"We found it well to cut your name in two.<br />
-Yes, darling, in those days that now are fled<br />
-We Pretty called you, 'Pletty' your lips said.<br />
-As Pretty were you, 'Pletty' you became,<br />
-And soon would answer to no other name.<br />
-But in good time the 'Pletty' came to 'Plet,'<br />
-The name we christened you I half forget.<br />
-This hair of brown was then all golden curls,<br />
-Ere you had grown most naughty of all girls.<br />
-Before this time, when you all care repay,<br />
-With wicked guiles that turn my old head gray."</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Then Plet indulged in charming smile and pout&mdash;<br />
-That she was "papa's darling" none could doubt.<br />
-She was his all upon life's pilgrimage,<br />
-A golden letter saved from vanished page,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>The promised solace of his closing years,<br />
-A hope that came from out a time of tears:<br />
-Of children born to him the first and last,<br />
-The image of her well-loved mother passed.<br /></p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Such Plet&mdash;whose noble, sympathetic heart<br />
-Had others caused to live a better part;<br />
-A petticoated, pranksome, daring scamp,<br />
-The dainty hoyden of a mining camp.</p>
-
-<div class='figleft id002'>
-<img src='images/image023.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>PART SECOND.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span></div>
-<div class='c004'></div>
-<div class='banner'>
-<img src='images/image027.jpg' alt='' class='banner' />
-<h3 class='banner'>IV.</h3>
-</div>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc027.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi0_8'>
-Jo was pure-minded. He possessed a force<br />
-That kept him always from the low and coarse;<br />
-If ugly vice and sin upon him frowned,<br />
-With head erect he firmly held his ground.<br />
-When siren Pleasure spread her silken net<br />
-He was not caught, nor made a conscience debt.<br />
-They found he was not of their kind&mdash;those men,<br />
-Who sought the brothel, drink-shop, gambling-den.<br />
-No goody-goody&mdash;it was known at length<br />
-His action came from courage and from strength,<br />
-And those who make a test were sure to find<br />
-His virtues were not of the meaner kind,<br />
-They came from purity and clean desires.<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>Not lack of passions strong, nor manly fires.<br /></p>
-
-<p class='c000'>'Twas on a bright and noble summer day,<br />
-When fast the winter snow-drifts ebbed away;<br />
-The cloudless sky was like a crystal dome,<br />
-When Plet and father stood within "Our Home."<br />
-All nature blended in one vast, grand hymn<br />
-What time their nags came o'er the hollow's rim.<br />
-We saw them coming from our perch on high&mdash;<br />
-How quick the love-light sprang in poor Jo's eye!&mdash;<br />
-We hastened downward, Jo well on before,<br />
-And met them ere they reached the cabin door.<br />
-Their nags were hitched beneath a mighty spruce&mdash;<br />
-One grizzled, storm-worn arm stretched out for use&mdash;<br />
-And then&mdash;Oh! great, indeed, was Plet's delight,<br />
-When first she gazed upon the Babel height!<br />
-No less the gloom, the aged savageness,<br />
-Impressed her fancy than the gorgeous dress,<br />
-Brief summer lends to that high altitude<br />
-Between the fierce assaults of winter rude.<br />
-The solitude upon her senses wrought,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>Each novel sight some exclamation brought!<br />
-We showed her "Dead Man's Corner," where was found<br />
-A hapless miner dead and wrapped around<br />
-With the same chilly shroud as on the day,<br />
-The ridge he tried&mdash;by snow was swept away.<br />
-Yet this&mdash;although it brought a pretty sigh&mdash;<br />
-But for a moment put her gay mood by.<br />
-The wonders of "Our Home" the girl beguiled<br />
-And made her buoyant as a happy child.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Then came a banquet. After that steep ride&mdash;<br />
-Plet's skill equestrienne none in camp denied&mdash;<br />
-What better than a tempting dish of fruit,&mdash;<br />
-So true the wild our mood did try and suit.<br />
-The visit to "Our Home" was timely sure,<br />
-Those strawberries were fit for epicure.<br />
-Among the creviced rocks the plants were spread,<br />
-The just ripe berries hanging rich and red;<br />
-And these were gathered. At their friendly board,<br />
-In every cheer and rich abundance stored,<br />
-We often sat. So now we gave our mite,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>Their many pleasant favors to requite.<br />
-And yet to our desires how poor and mean,<br />
-How all inadequate the gift did seem.<br />
-And then came out&mdash;they seemed to think it sport&mdash;<br />
-Our two tin plates, it was our only sort.<br />
-But Plet's deft fingers quick transition made,<br />
-With fresh green leaves in starry pattern laid&mdash;<br />
-And while she praised the wild fruit's luscious taste<br />
-We thought how she our rustic dwelling graced.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>The life of the prospector&mdash;lonely 'tis!<br />
-No venture free from daily hazard his,<br />
-But one of steady, hard, and daring toil<br />
-He must meet danger, nor from care recoil;<br />
-To unforeseen and sudden risks exposed,<br />
-No cease from vigil keen his labors knows.<br />
-And sudden wealth of all his thoughts the theme,<br />
-He works, too, in a sort of waking dream.<br />
-Thus the impressions he from nature drew<br />
-Results in good and manly impulse true.<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>Ah! one thing seemed to me exceeding plain&mdash;<br />
-The sequel showed my fear was not in vain&mdash;<br />
-That Fate had set for this young pair a trap!<br />
-Why, any townish, high-bred, polished chap<br />
-Had thought himself in fortune all the while<br />
-Could he have shared that day and Plet's sweet smile;<br />
-And weighing this&mdash;depend upon't 'twas so,&mdash;<br />
-Think what it was for lonely, honest Jo!<br />
-His blue eyes sparkled, one could easy trace<br />
-The happy thoughts upon his sunburnt face.<br />
-Did it mean joy, or would it bring regret&mdash;<br />
-Might Jo rue sometimes that he e'er saw Plet?<br />
-That he had nobly served them, that is true,<br />
-They kept the thought nor gratitude outgrew;<br />
-He'd striven hard their lives to save, and still&mdash;<br />
-No matter how full strong his hope or will,<br />
-How rich his manly love might prove or pure&mdash;<br />
-This fact remained, my Jo was very poor.<br />
-What right had he to think of such a mate,<br />
-One far above him in this world's estate?<br />
-But he was worthy of her, free from blame,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>Though Fortune played the lad a niggard game!<br />
-In spite of every drawback, this I knew,<br />
-And hoped the jade would sometime play him true;<br />
-For poor or no poor, I could only feel<br />
-The chance was good if she but turned her wheel.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Now there's a picture I can ne'er forget;<br />
-After these years I seem to see it yet:<br />
-The figures you can guess were Plet and Jo,<br />
-With background made of rocks, and lake, and snow;<br />
-The girl half leaned upon a granite block,<br />
-Her roguish smile my poor Jo seemed to mock,<br />
-Part pity, part enjoyment, I believe&mdash;<br />
-What silly stuff I did in my head weave&mdash;<br />
-And Jo, in timid and in bashful way&mdash;<br />
-'Twas like a scene I once saw in a play,<br />
-Offered a bunch of flowers. And his face,<br />
-As he bent forward, not without grace,<br />
-Glowed with confusion and with passion new<br />
-As his strong heart and his strong brain were true.<br />
-I'd better stop; I grow nonsensical.&mdash;<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>A monster ledge served both for pedestal,<br />
-Jo in his earth-stained garments, heavy boot,<br />
-Plet in her jaunty hat and riding suit.<br />
-Did I admire them so? Why so it seems,<br />
-And even an old man has his need of dreams.<br />
-A charming picture&mdash;so I think, at least,<br />
-That couple standing where the wave released<br />
-Fell down the mossy rocks in sparkling foam,<br />
-The wild flowers growing from the moist, rich loam,<br />
-And from the sun and pines mosaic shed<br />
-O'er Plet's fair form and Jo's uncovered head.<br />
-A landscape setting, beautiful and grand!<br />
-The purple epilobiums in Jo's hand&mdash;<br />
-Frail, tender blossoms, delicate and sweet,<br />
-How strange to see them in that wild retreat!&mdash;<br />
-Were fitting emblems, in their sudden birth,<br />
-To soft enwrap and gladden the cold earth,<br />
-Of that sweet office a true love fulfils,<br />
-Whose wondrous budding all the being thrills&mdash;<br />
-Of that enchantment grown between those two,<br />
-The fond desire their hearts together drew!</p>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>
- <h3 class='c001'>V.</h3>
-</div>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc034.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_1'>
-After that day to Jo there came a change,&mdash;<br />
-Not that I thought the fact so very strange&mdash;<br />
-For love had come, oh! that was plain to see,<br />
-And from the first I felt 'twas a decree.<br />
-I knew Jo found a heart that Plet had lost,<br />
-And only feared their love might be ill-crossed.<br />
-Perhaps the boy was not without his hopes<br />
-The eve that Plet returned adown the slopes.<br />
-Now he abstracted grew and walked alone,<br />
-To fits of silent reverie was prone.<br />
-That he had been a talker don't constrain,<br />
-Jo never was a glib-tongued rattle-brain.<br />
-For hours in silence to his work he'd stick,<br />
-Wielding the heavy hammer or the pick;<br />
-And I'll confess that I myself kept still.<br />
-No time to talk much, holding to the drill.<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>But at those times that we'd a moment quit,<br />
-And pass a word to cheer us up a bit,<br />
-I noticed that his speech was but to ask<br />
-Concerning work&mdash;some detail of our task.<br />
-And evenings, too, as moody as a churl<br />
-He'd sit and watch his pipe-smoke upward curl.<br />
-Sometimes his gaze on vacancy he'd fix,&mdash;<br />
-And well I knew the young god played his tricks,&mdash;<br />
-And if I spoke, some thought wished to impart,<br />
-'Twas all unheard, or answered with a start.<br />
-What all this meant&mdash;who could mistake the sign?<br />
-'Twas plain to see as three times three are nine.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>So at our claim we kept; he worked as though<br />
-A wealth must come, whether it would or no.<br />
-A new life dwelt within my partner's breast&mdash;<br />
-If my prayers answered, then 'twas surely blessed&mdash;<br />
-But in that present 'twas a torture, too.<br />
-His question was&mdash;what course can I pursue?<br />
-Were not his hopes but built upon the sand&mdash;<br />
-Could one so poor expect to gain Plet's hand?<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>And constantly this thought his brain did seize&mdash;<br />
-Had not sweet Plet been used to every ease?<br />
-This truth stared out&mdash;a common miner he,&mdash;<br />
-Alas! for him, a rich man's daughter she!<br />
-So his dark moods I clearly understood,<br />
-Persistent thought that all would end in good.<br />
-Pretending not to see, I smoked my pipe,<br />
-And thought, I'll live to see the time grow ripe.<br />
-In proper time I knew that Jo would speak,<br />
-As in the twilight I would watch him seek&mdash;<br />
-To him I guess 'twas fairest of all bowers&mdash;<br />
-The spot where he had offered Plet the flowers.<br />
-Oft when eve's shadows deepened into nights,<br />
-He'll look adown the slopes and watch the lights<br />
-That we could see within the distant camp,<br />
-Hoping, I knew, to see one special lamp&mdash;<br />
-Which hope was more than frequent not in vain&mdash;<br />
-The one that burned behind Plet's window pane.<br />
-Yes, he had grown as fond as any dove;<br />
-Beyond a doubt, poor Jo was deep in love!</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span></div>
-<div class='c002'></div>
-<div class='banner'>
-<img src='images/image037.jpg' alt='' class='banner' />
-<h3 class='banner'>VI.</h3>
-</div>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc037.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_1'>
-Hurrah! hurrah! And true beyond a doubt!<br />
-Hurrah! hurrah! Had we not cause to shout?<br />
-She turned her wheel, the changeful, fickle witch;<br />
-Yes, beyond doubt, we too had "struck it rich!"<br />
-The blind lead we had followed many a day,<br />
-Suddenly widened to the best of "pay."<br />
-'Twas purest carbonates. We had enough,<br />
-Thousands were ours in the black, gritty "stuff!"</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>How did it serve us? You are bound to ask,<br />
-How did we take that climax to our task?<br />
-'Twas hard to answer. As I said before,<br />
-Jo looked at wealth as though he'd force the door.<br />
-But when he saw the end so near him lie,<br />
-He dazed appeared and heaved a heavy sigh.<br />
-Jo seemed as one just woke from sleep, and&mdash;well<br />
-As though a burden from his shoulders fell.<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>And unto me it came as a surprise;<br />
-We stood and stared with dry and eager eyes.<br />
-A pan of dirt we picked and carried where<br />
-Our brows could feel a touch of cool, fresh air.<br />
-I felt my temples throb, my eyeballs burn,<br />
-My blood alternate ice or fire turn;<br />
-I well remember how we held our breath,<br />
-Talked hushed and low as in a house of death.<br />
-And then we shouted&mdash;shouted long and loud,<br />
-Shouted as though with brazen lungs endowed;<br />
-Shouted until each voice was weak and hoarse,<br />
-Until the wild bird fluttered in his course;<br />
-Shouted until our friends in gray and tan&mdash;<br />
-Across the rocks the fat ground squirrels ran;<br />
-Until, as though he'd like to join the game,<br />
-An answering echo from "Old Babel" came.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Nor was that all, I'm half ashamed to tell<br />
-The things we did beneath that sudden spell&mdash;<br />
-For then we danced; yes, danced and danced again,<br />
-'Till I from weariness to rest was fain!<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>Had any seen us they had thought us mad,<br />
-And frenzy sure possessed myself and lad,<br />
-For I worn out, then Joe he danced alone,<br />
-His yellow ringlets to the free winds thrown.<br />
-With eyes aglow, all filled with sparkling fire,<br />
-He danced as though his limbs would never tire;<br />
-In weird fantastic measure and wild tread<br />
-He waved the precious dirt around my head;<br />
-It seemed one could in his wild antics trace<br />
-A likeness to some genie of the place.<br />
-A wild delirium o'er our senses came<br />
-In which the sunshine looked like silver flame;<br />
-The rocks, the flashing wavelets, silver seemed;<br />
-Each far-off cloud a silver palace gleamed.<br />
-Transmuted all to our excited ken&mdash;<br />
-Yes, silver, silver; all things silver then!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>How suddenly for us the world was changed;<br />
-For us who every field of want had ranged,<br />
-Who through long months had fought the stubborn rock,<br />
-Met summer tempests, borne the winter's shock.<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>Now the long struggle, the grim fight was o'er,<br />
-Privations hard would be our lot no more.<br />
-No weary toiling up or down the slope,<br />
-Or weary hours in cold and damp to grope.<br />
-What figures that strike meant, we hardly knew,<br />
-We were among the very lucky few!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Then came reaction&mdash;to myself I mean&mdash;<br />
-For more or less my life had failure been.<br />
-What truly, after all, the strike to me!<br />
-Such as it was you can at once foresee&mdash;<br />
-A life of toil replaced by one of ease,<br />
-Such things of life as can an old man please.<br />
-You see I'd grown to be a sort of sage,<br />
-Had weighed full carefully the wants of age.<br />
-And can a sudden flood of wealth atone<br />
-For years of crabbed single life alone?</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>With Jo 'twas different. My plans were few,<br />
-With him life lay before&mdash;so much to do.<br />
-'Twere hard to tell what busy thoughts he kept,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>What dreams that night came to him as he slept,<br />
-What schemes and plans he up-built prodigal&mdash;<br />
-Of course providing that he slept at all,<br />
-And that was doubtful. Perhaps I knew,<br />
-Or thought they were the same as those that drew<br />
-His feet toward the mossy torrent head,<br />
-The same as made him watch for pale light shed,<br />
-Toward the ridge from out the mining camp,<br />
-And see a message in a far-off lamp:<br />
-The same for many a day his brain beset,<br />
-For Jo's unuttered thoughts were all of Plet!</p>
-
-<h3 class='c001'>VII.</h3>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc041.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_1'>
-But on the course of love I will not dwell,<br />
-Or many an episode I'd have to tell.<br />
-'Tis hope and courage to the lover bring<br />
-A boldness strong as is the eagle's wing.<br />
-And Jo waxed bold, you know the reason why,<br />
-He had a cause his hope to justify;<br />
-Love progressed fast as ship with wind and tide,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>Ere the snow flew Plet was a promised bride.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>"Marry in haste and slow repent you say&mdash;<br />
-Courtships too quick are somewhat the same way?"<br />
-I thought not so, 'twas no ill-mated pair,<br />
-The father of Jo's worth was well aware:<br />
-Before the day on which our good luck came,<br />
-I knew his thoughts of Jo were just the same<br />
-As when the fickle maid began to smile&mdash;<br />
-In mining parlance, when we'd made our "pile."<br />
-A pair of good discerning eyes he had,<br />
-That looked quite through the soul of my poor lad;<br />
-He'd seen the worth behind rough garb and lot,<br />
-And what he'd seen a friendship true begot,<br />
-A generous heart within his bosom burned,<br />
-And friendship soon to admiration turned.<br />
-While Plet&mdash;I'll try my words not to repeat&mdash;<br />
-Had danced along love's path with willing feet,<br />
-The flamed barb was not a whit more slow<br />
-To reach her heart than it had been with Jo;<br />
-And thus before a year had slipped away,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>The smitten pair had named a wedding day.<br />
-But ten months more was added to his life,<br />
-And Jo saw coming&mdash;Fortune and a wife.<br />
-What comfort 'twas to be no longer poor&mdash;<br />
-To know a wife of his need not endure<br />
-Such trial as oft he saw some miner's mate<br />
-In patient silence bear from morn 'til late.<br />
-Oh! Jo, I thought, was sure of happiness,<br />
-And haven fair and safe from storm and stress;<br />
-For thought of other ending I was loth,<br />
-My prayers for them were&mdash;May God bless you both!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>A few short weeks our lives might be the same,<br />
-Of course we'd not deserted yet our claim,<br />
-'Twas necessary we remain until<br />
-Such time as would our obligations fill,<br />
-And while the drill was sent or the pick drove,<br />
-Like lusty weeds our expectations throve.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Then still and tranquil grew the autumn days;<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>Through hazy veils the trees began to blaze;<br />
-The mountain summits seemed to sleep and dream;<br />
-Of tawny richness was each lessened stream;<br />
-Transparent amber on the birches crept;<br />
-Orange and madder o'er the dwarf oaks swept:<br />
-Upon the maples, in ravine or dell,<br />
-A myriad shades of rose-carnation fell;<br />
-The aspen groves, a wonder to behold,<br />
-Strewed the dark rocks with leaves of paly gold;<br />
-Wherever bunch of height&mdash;fond foliage grew,<br />
-Each frosty night had set some splendid hue,<br />
-And far above, beyond the somber pines,<br />
-The wasted snow yet gleamed in argent lines;<br />
-On every slope and steep, afar and near,<br />
-A seal was set that marked a dying year;<br />
-The mountains glowed in endless, gorgeous dyes,<br />
-With pomp of woods and glory of the skies.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>PART THIRD.</h2>
-</div>
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span></div>
-<div class='c002'></div>
-<div class='banner'>
-<img src='images/image047.jpg' alt='' class='banner' />
-<h3 class='banner'>VIII.</h3>
-</div>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc047.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_1'>
-The hollow huge, where lay the dark lake cold,<br />
-Had once been, so my observations told,<br />
-The head of a great glacier thick and vast,<br />
-Whose icy masses, in the years long past,<br />
-Had with its motion, ponderous and slow,<br />
-Ploughed out the narrow canon far below,<br />
-And as it downward moved with growl upon,<br />
-Smoothed the long granite ledges 'till they shone.<br />
-No doubt the causeway, half the canon's length,<br />
-Was by the monster piled up in his strength;<br />
-His bristling front and ice-caves rested there,<br />
-Ere he retreated to that upper lair.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>Now the wild hollow sees tremendous slides,<br />
-That often fall concurrent from its sides.<br />
-With force resistless and with thunders loud<br />
-They beat the lake into a misty cloud,<br />
-Or out of their deep bed the waters sweep,<br />
-To pass in hissing floods adown the steep.<br />
-Thus once had Jo and I beheld them fall,<br />
-A sight and sound the stoutest to appal.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>'Twas more than once there came to me a thought,<br />
-Why tempt adversity more than one ought?<br />
-Our cabin&mdash;did it stand in place quite safe,<br />
-Would Providence our welfare still vouchsafe?<br />
-The cabin stood on a low ridge or mound<br />
-That heretofore the slides had passed around.<br />
-So I believed that they would do once more&mdash;<br />
-I did not see the shadow at our door&mdash;<br />
-And then&mdash;the time was brief we had to stay,<br />
-We thought that quick&mdash;and it would pass away.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Procrastination&mdash;'tis the miner's bane!<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>To wait, put off, to loiter, he is fain;<br />
-He stubborn is and, whether right or wrong,<br />
-Keeps to his moods and faces odds too long;<br />
-Oh! only beck and voice of Chance he heeds,<br />
-And follows blind and deaf where'er she leads.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>The golden autumn days had sudden end,<br />
-And darkly wild we saw the storms extend;<br />
-With chilly notes November's wind piped loud,<br />
-Along the mountain side the tall pines bowed;<br />
-From out ravine and glen and bushy aisles,<br />
-The crisped leaves were heaped in russet piles;<br />
-Or without moment's pause or respite given<br />
-Were in the pale, swol'n torrents fiercely driven.<br />
-Then came the masses of dull, leaden cloud,<br />
-That like gray specters did each other crowd;<br />
-Cold drenching rains fell in the vales below,<br />
-But on the mountains changed to heavy snow.<br />
-With winding sheet it did all things efface;<br />
-The heights above "Our Home" grew white apace:<br />
-On earth was whiteness, on the sky was frown;<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>By day and night the flakes were wafted down;<br />
-Swirled round and round and wildly drifted o'er<br />
-Until it seemed the steeps could bear no more,<br />
-And in vast combs, along the winding wall,<br />
-The avalanche hung poised for instant fall!</p>
-
-<h3 class='c001'>IX.</h3>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc050.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_1'>
-'Twas night, and seated by our cabin board<br />
-We listened to the wind that shrieked and roared,<br />
-If we had erred 'twas now beyond reform&mdash;<br />
-We were held fast by reason of the storm.<br />
-For one whole week it raged without allay,<br />
-Nor sign had come that it would yield its sway.<br />
-Yes, fairly through our rashness we were caught,<br />
-And I to blame, for I was better taught:<br />
-The blasts still came, the snow unceasing fell,<br />
-Our log-built hut became a citadel.<br />
-Across the hollow, we could hear them rave,<br />
-And more and more my judgment I misgave;<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>Hurled wild against the walls each wintry corps,<br />
-We hardly dared to open once the door.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>And that night too! That night of all the year&mdash;<br />
-How very strange sometimes decrees appear!<br />
-A twelvemonth since we'd saved his future mate,<br />
-And now poor Jo touched by the hand of fate!<br />
-Strange, strange indeed, that it should happen then&mdash;<br />
-You see it was the Christmas Eve again!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>With feet upon the stove my poor boy sat,<br />
-I'd tried to help his mood with this and that;<br />
-Our miner's lamp down from a huge beam hung,<br />
-And o'er our cheerless room its rays it flung.<br />
-Within his hand Jo, listless, held a book,<br />
-But half the time his eye the page forsook;<br />
-He could not read and yet a silence kept&mdash;<br />
-What meant that change that o'er his features crept?<br />
-There was in his pale face too strange a blend,<br />
-I did not like whate'er it might portend;<br />
-So by the red and dim uncertain light<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>I watched his face and heard how wild the night;<br />
-My head was leaned in thought against my bunk,<br />
-I own I was in dark forebodings sunk&mdash;<br />
-For once since I had met him I was blue,<br />
-That we were there appeared great cause to rue.<br />
-To keep this fact from Jo's quick sense I tried,<br />
-With cheery words my inmost thought belied;<br />
-But now by dull, cold fear I felt assailed,<br />
-Before some power invisible I quailed.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>A strange world this! How full of woe and weal,<br />
-What play of fate and chance our lives reveal!<br />
-Our lightest word may prove a dread command,<br />
-The balance turns with a mere grain of sand;<br />
-We do that trifle; and go here or there,<br />
-Speak or keep silent,&mdash;joy bring or despair!<br />
-One moment's action may prove as a knife,<br />
-The thread to cut and make or mar a life!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>As thus I mused&mdash;what had I done for Jo?<br />
-Sudden he spoke&mdash;"'Twas right that we should go,"<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>It startled me,&mdash;his words were but a chime;<br />
-'Twas clear our thoughts unspoken had kept time:<br />
-Who should he think of now if not of Plet?<br />
-Oh! how she would at his forced absence fret!<br />
-The yester-morn 'twas his desire to start,<br />
-But I, the elder, played the cautious part;<br />
-To try the slopes too dangerous did appear,&mdash;<br />
-To me the thought itself was madness sheer.<br />
-Why, could we in such storm have kept our breath?<br />
-It would have been a challenge sent to death.<br />
-Yet now, so strong my mood within me wrought.<br />
-I would have ventured without moment's thought.<br />
-Would I had done so! Then I'd blameless been;<br />
-Another end&mdash;but that was all unseen!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Ere I made answer, Jo had spoke again&mdash;<br />
-I was surprised and troubled at his vein&mdash;<br />
-His spoken musings saddest tenor bore,<br />
-There was a break, too, from his words before:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Strange question surely with so sad a brow&mdash;<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>"What should prevent my being happy now?<br />
-Oh! Yes, I know what power the rich command;<br />
-I've seen the true and brave hard want withstand;<br />
-My sister, dead&mdash;Ah! even as I speak,<br />
-I see again her flushed and wasted cheek.<br />
-Yes, she was working for the sweaters then&mdash;<br />
-Most brutal, mean, and sordid of all men&mdash;<br />
-It killed her! Yes, she slowly drooped and pined,<br />
-Sunk 'neath her load and mother's loss combined;<br />
-Her task was all too great, nor bold nor strong,<br />
-An orphan left amid the heedless throng.<br />
-Oh! I was nothing but an urchin small,<br />
-My help was little, if 'twas help at all;<br />
-'Twas cruel, cruel that she suffered so;<br />
-On my account I know she feared to go.<br />
-She shared her little when she ill could spare;<br />
-Would that with her my hope I now might share.<br />
-What happiness it would to me impart,<br />
-Could she but live and heal again her heart.<br />
-My mother, too,&mdash;to me her face is dim&mdash;<br />
-It fills my mem'ry like some vague, sweet hymn&mdash;<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>Yet though I cannot see her face aright,<br />
-I feel her dark eyes look in mine tonight."<br /></p>
-
-<p class='c000'>My Jo was sad indeed and sore oppressed,<br />
-His happy prospects did not bring him rest;<br />
-And I, too&mdash;I was filled with cold alarm,<br />
-Some premonition of impending harm!<br />
-I felt a warning through my being creep,<br />
-And he sat brooding as I fell asleep.</p>
-
-<h3 class='c001'>X.</h3>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc055.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_1'>
-Crash! crash!! crash!!!&mdash;O God, what awful roar!<br />
-It bursts upon my hearing ever more!<br />
-A rush, a fury; sudden, bitter cold;<br />
-Confusion utter on my senses rolled;<br />
-A rending, grinding; hiss of sliding snow;<br />
-Enormous mixing of dread sounds below;<br />
-A noise terrific, wonderful and vast,<br />
-As though of earthly things it told the last;<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>Like trump of doom it seemed to rend the sky,<br />
-And turn the brain to numbness——Where was I?<br />
-Half stunned I sat bolt upright in my bunk;<br />
-My head swam round as if I had been drunk.<br />
-The sudden noise had ended, all was still,<br />
-And yet a tremor did the darkness fill;<br />
-Our lamp still burned, a red spot in the gloom,<br />
-But all was chill and silent as a tomb.<br />
-I was too dazed, too lost to understand,<br />
-Yet felt the snow drift on my face and hand.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>I called aloud to Jo. No answer came.<br />
-I called, again, again, and 'twas the same!<br /></p>
-
-<p class='c000'>What was it? Where was Jo? What did it mean?<br />
-What meant that vacancy where Jo had been!<br />
-His bunk was empty, and the stove was&mdash;where?<br />
-Was that Jo's hat upon the table there?<br />
-In sort of dreamy spell I stared and asked,<br />
-But to the answering felt myself o'ertasked.<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>Why did our cabin wall so whitish grow&mdash;<br />
-Why did it look so very much like snow?<br />
-In distance, too, I saw it slow expand,<br />
-And still I felt the snow on face and hand.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Then I was wide awake! My mind was cleared&mdash;<br />
-Oh, all too plain the dreadful truth appeared!<br />
-The slides! the slides! "Our Home" was wrecked by slides!<br />
-And there was terror in this thought besides&mdash;<br />
-My Jo? Ah! God of Mercy! where was Jo?<br />
-Did he lie bleeding on the rocks below?<br />
-"Our Home" was struck, there but remained the half&mdash;<br />
-Oh, then I seemed to hear the dark fates laugh!<br />
-Not one thing touched or moved where I had lain,<br />
-And Jo, perhaps, hurled down to ghastly pain.<br />
-Down, down the slopes he had been whirled away,<br />
-Ere this it might be&mdash;was but lifeless clay:<br />
-Was that a voice that called on me to come,<br />
-While I stood there in anguish, terror-dumb?</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Outside the wreck&mdash;when I stood there at last,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>The storm rolled back&mdash;as if in mockery passed;<br />
-A scene of desolation, weird and white,<br />
-Beneath the parting clouds fell on my sight;<br />
-Like to a lamp the moon hung wan and pale,<br />
-As though it lit the path through death's own vale.<br />
-My pair of snow-shoes from the wall I took&mdash;<br />
-Jo's hung there with them on the self-same hook&mdash;<br />
-Then to my belt a miner's lamp I tied,<br />
-Seized the long pole that would my steep course guide;<br />
-Though frantic in my fear, all desperate,<br />
-I must my acts in order regulate.<br />
-Well that some little skill I could command,<br />
-Well that I know each foot of mountain land;<br />
-Or never could I, had it not been so,<br />
-Have reached the spot where I, at last, found Jo.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>The snow was wildly drifted; rocks were bare,<br />
-The white blown from them to make mounds in air;<br />
-The surface here all soft and loose did feel,<br />
-Here 'twas hard-packed and smooth as polished steel.<br />
-The slides had met above&mdash;there had been two&mdash;<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>Their mighty tracks stretched upward full in view;<br />
-Where they had joined in fierce and deadly shock<br />
-Was piled on high the tons of shattered rock.<br />
-One had possessed a greater power and force<br />
-And drove the other from its downward course&mdash;<br />
-You see how all conspired to change our luck&mdash;<br />
-That swerve was why the cabin had been struck;<br />
-And far below, in a small valley penned,<br />
-The rushing snow was forced to make an end,<br />
-A level space with rocks all jagged and sharp,<br />
-The first uplifting of the counterscarp.<br />
-If Jo against those cruel rocks was borne,<br />
-Oh, then, I knew, was come my time to mourn!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>And hidden dangers it was mine to face,<br />
-A moment, I believe, I asked for grace;<br />
-Then without pause I glided down the slope,<br />
-In that hot fire that burns 'tween fear and hope.<br />
-I knew not where to pause or where to look;<br />
-The awful wreckage all my courage shook;<br />
-He might be crushed by boulder or tree-trunk,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>Or out of reach in some ravine be sunk.<br />
-Each object dark that on the surface lay<br />
-Plucked at my heart and filled me with dismay.<br />
-What likely seemed within the shadows dim,<br />
-I hoped, yet dreaded, that it might be him!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>What were those timbers sticking through the snow?<br />
-I hardly dared another glance bestow.<br />
-Ah! what were they it needed little proof,<br />
-'Twas splintered fragments of our cabin roof:<br />
-And what was that black something lying there?<br />
-'Twas Jo's great coat that hung upon his chair.<br />
-Was he, then, somewhere near? Oh! could I save?<br />
-One choking thump I felt that my heart gave,<br />
-Then in my bosom it was turned to lead.<br />
-Where was he? Was he yet alive&mdash;or dead?</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span></div>
-<div class='c002'></div>
-<div class='banner'>
-<img src='images/image061.jpg' alt='' class='banner' />
-<h3 class='banner'>XI.</h3>
-</div>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc061.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_1'>
-Quite dead! All hopeless, my poor Jo was dead!<br />
-Yes, all too soon I knew that life had fled!<br />
-Oh! not the slightest flutter at his heart;<br />
-No warmth to his cold lips could I impart;<br />
-I could not bring the breath to my poor mate,<br />
-I'd found him; but, ah, God! I'd found too late!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Oh! what I suffered I can never tell,<br />
-It seemed to me I tasted then of hell!<br />
-Despair came o'er me, I was dazed with grief,<br />
-As palsy struck I trembled like a leaf.<br />
-Would I go mad? Yes, without thought or aim,<br />
-I smoothed Jo's brow and called upon his name;<br />
-Strange and unnatural my voice with woe,<br />
-And lost at once amid the wreaths of snow!<br />
-Should I feel shame that grief did me unman&mdash;<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>That down my furrowed cheeks the hot tears ran?<br />
-That night I learned what friendship true can be;<br />
-How near a son the lad had been to me.<br />
-Before that hour no gray my locks o'er cast,<br />
-And after that the white came thick and fast.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>'Twas by the wreckage, some ten yards away,<br />
-And near the surface that my poor boy lay,<br />
-One hand thrust upward, as in mute appeal.<br />
-Alas! my frenzied clasp he could not feel!<br />
-Upon his other hand each fingernail<br />
-Furrowed the flesh, did deep the palm impale.<br />
-Oh, it was gruesome! Oft I've seen it so,<br />
-Upon the hands of those killed by the snow.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>What could I do&mdash;when bitter tears and grief<br />
-Passed to a dull despair beyond relief?<br />
-When I was sure that I all power did lack;<br />
-That tears and labor could not bring him back?<br />
-Must I make ready for a solemn task&mdash;<br />
-The end of which I dared not see nor ask?<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>Dimly, through all the rack of ache and pain,<br />
-I knew the truth&mdash;Jo could not there remain;<br />
-And then the thought upon my brain dawned slow,<br />
-That I must take him to the camp below.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Oh! friend, who listens calmly to this tale,<br />
-Did it show weakness that my heart should fail?<br />
-That I before the coming task did shrink&mdash;<br />
-Held back as one upon a chasm's brink?<br />
-"Not so," you say? I hope in all the sum<br />
-Of your life's days such task may never come!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Close by our cabin we had kept a sled,<br />
-Thereon awhile poor Jo must find a bed.<br />
-Oft he had pulled beside me on the slope&mdash;<br />
-Brave, honest Jo, when he was filled with hope;<br />
-Now he would be the burden it must bear.<br />
-Hard pang it gave to go and leave him there;<br />
-Lying so rigid, lonely and so still,<br />
-He did with fearfulness the wild scene fill!<br />
-I seemed to see all nature through a pall,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>A sign of death was written over all,&mdash;<br />
-Life, hope, fate, death; the helplessness of men&mdash;<br />
-The mystery of all weighed on me then!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Across the sled I laid pine-branches deep,<br />
-Placed Jo upon them in his endless sleep;<br />
-With his own blankets wrapped the body o'er&mdash;<br />
-Under their folds he'd dream of love no more&mdash;<br />
-And when I'd fitting made his bed at last,<br />
-With long, stout cords I tightly bound all fast;<br />
-Felt one deep surge of pain my breast within,<br />
-And, then&mdash;my course was ready to begin.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Then downward; downward, in pale light of dawn,<br />
-Down the steep slopes and ledges long outdrawn.<br />
-Over the snowy hillocks, mighty drifts,<br />
-Across ice-bridges o'er the deep-made rifts,<br />
-Down, down the hidden trail we knew so well&mdash;<br />
-Within my ears a sound like passing bell;<br />
-My heart like fire, my throbbing brow cold-damp,<br />
-As, in the wintry noon, I reached the camp.<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>Oh, awful hour! My task of tasks came yet,<br />
-Ah, God! how could I bear the news to Plet?<br /></p>
-
-<h3 class='c001'>XII.</h3>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc065.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_1'>
-Fear not,&mdash;I shall not tell of all the woe,<br />
-The misery Jo's death did clear foreshow.<br />
-Why should I try those dark hours to recall,<br />
-Dwell on the blank that fell upon us all?<br />
-O regal Death, you wear a changeful crown,<br />
-You come with gentle smile or tyrant frown!<br />
-We know sometimes with terror you assail,<br />
-Or to sweet rest you touch the eyelids pale:<br />
-That to the living, from your unseen train,<br />
-Too oft remorse doth bring its aching pain,<br />
-And to the sorrows that bereavement brings,<br />
-The earthly needings like a horror clings.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Too dreadful was the time between the day<br />
-I reached the camp and he was laid away.<br />
-Yes, I have lived through saddened hours and dark,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>Known trials that on life have left their mark;<br />
-I've my own share of keenest anguish seen,<br />
-For all too soon my life had failure been;<br />
-I knew what 'twas to miss the hoped-for goal,<br />
-And feel the iron enter in my soul;<br />
-Yet only then I saw all hope depart,<br />
-To come no more when Jo received death's dart;<br />
-And still more black became the gloom profound,<br />
-Between that hour and the burial ground.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Her father told her&mdash;how I do not know.<br />
-When I told him, he reeled as from a blow;<br />
-I did not dare to go and look on her,<br />
-Of tidings evil I the messenger.<br />
-Yet later in her sorrow I could share<br />
-When in the dusk we took Jo's body there.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>A dreary, dreary winter day was that,<br />
-Deep lay the snow upon the lonesome flat;<br />
-Slowly the big white flakes were falling round,<br />
-And in a deeper shroud the hills enwound.<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>You should not think the hands of friends forgot<br />
-To dig a pathway to the chosen spot.<br />
-Slowly through white the black procession passed,<br />
-And stood beside the open grave at last.<br />
-Plet, speechless, tearless, to her father clung,<br />
-A sight so pitiful each heart was wrung.<br />
-By one most worthy a few lines were read,<br />
-In simple service for untimely dead.<br />
-The end was reached when, like a sudden knell,<br />
-The clods all frozen on the coffin fell.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Nor was there lack of kindly effort made<br />
-To ease the grief on her so heavy laid.<br />
-All in the camp had hunger in their heart<br />
-To her some grain of comfort to impart;<br />
-But such her feeling that they must forego,<br />
-And leave her silent in her utter woe.</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span></div>
-<div class='c002'></div>
-<div class='banner'>
-<img src='images/image068.jpg' alt='' class='banner' />
-<h3 class='banner'>XIII.</h3>
-</div>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc068.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_1'>
-And after that all is to me quite vague,<br />
-My memory seemed smitten by a plague;<br />
-A strange uncertainty did all confuse,<br />
-Things and events I saw through changing hues.<br />
-My merry Plet, sweet as the sun shone on,<br />
-I saw like a cut flower all droop and wan,<br />
-Or one that's stricken by a cruel frost,<br />
-Or like a weary bird, that's tempest-tossed.<br />
-She who had been so lively and so gay<br />
-Changed to a spirit that might pass away.<br />
-How soon the dawn of love so rosy bright<br />
-Had given place to dark and solemn night!<br />
-Her only wish now seemed to be alone,<br />
-To listen for a word in that loved tone&mdash;<br />
-Yes, she who longed to meet the future years,<br />
-Now backward looked and through a mist of tears.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>And doubt and fear obscure oppressed my brain,<br />
-My mind was clouded by a nameless pain,<br />
-And o'er and o'er again came this dark thought,<br />
-She too must go&mdash;she but a long rest sought;<br />
-On other paths than ours she soon must wend,<br />
-Her broken heart foreshadowed but this end.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Her father wished to take her from the place,<br />
-But Plet begged hard for little time of grace.<br />
-He to remove her from those scenes was fain,<br />
-She to look on them still would there remain.<br />
-How could she go and leave that new-made grave,<br />
-When, to be near, her only comfort gave?<br />
-Ah, all unlike is woman to the man!<br />
-And yet we know 'tis to some noble plan&mdash;<br />
-Man in his strength, the past lets go its way,<br />
-Though thus forever some great hope decay!<br />
-But woman, loving, tender, still clings fast,<br />
-And hopeless yearns until the very last;<br />
-Keeps sacred in her heart and holds supreme<br />
-Whate'er remains of her sweet broken dream.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>And so that grave held Plet with unseen power.<br />
-Was there some influence at their natal hour?<br />
-Oh, yes, to me the sequel seemed to show<br />
-That they were linked indeed for weal or woe!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>And so there came again a summer day,<br />
-With Plet and father climbing up the way.<br />
-What madness filled his brain to let her come?<br />
-The very sight with anguish struck me dumb.<br />
-I knew she struggled with her love in vain,<br />
-'Twas hopelessness that brought her once again.<br />
-The same wild flowers were growing by the lake,<br />
-As when she first came for my poor Jo's sake.<br />
-Can the eyes speak farewell? Oh! if they can,<br />
-How simple was the key to her sad plan.<br />
-She only came with her dead hope to part,<br />
-To be where love had entered in her heart!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>And now there came that looked-for scene and last,<br />
-To which that other seemed but a forecast;<br />
-Once more the great white flakes were falling slow,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>To wrap in fleecy folds the earth below.<br />
-A year with all its changes had gone round<br />
-Since Jo was buried in that mountain ground,<br />
-The third of that glad season since they met,<br />
-And now I saw the grave close over Plet.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>For he had promised&mdash;kept the promise true,<br />
-Nor death nor circumstance should part those two.<br />
-And now that vow the stricken father made,<br />
-We with bowed heads in silence saw obeyed.<br />
-Her happiness had been his own, and why<br />
-Should he her last and fondest wish deny?<br />
-And that last wish had almost been a prayer,<br />
-That she might lie beside her lover there.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>The Christmas Eve&mdash;it weighed upon my heart,<br />
-It seemed the hot tears from my eyes must start;<br />
-In anguish o'er my brow I passed my hand,<br />
-Life seemed no surer than a rope of sand:<br />
-The Christmas Eve with dire importance fraught,<br />
-Plet and her father 'neath the wild snows caught;<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>The Christmas Eve and Jo swept to his death,<br />
-Upon the jagged rocks to yield his breath,<br />
-And Christmas Eve again, and Plet asleep,<br />
-Where on the flat the snow lay cold and deep.<br />
-The Christmas Eve, I whispered o'er and o'er,<br />
-While echoes seemed to come from a far shore.<br />
-Oh, why so fateful to them was that night&mdash;<br />
-Why did it always bring so sad a plight?<br />
-I tried an answer to my words to frame&mdash;<br />
-But no solution to the question came;<br />
-I choking struggled with the hopeless task,<br />
-And life for death did only seem a mask;<br />
-I felt all hope was but sad pretence when<br />
-Their voices I should never hear again!</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>FINALE.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>
- <h3 class='c001'>XIV.</h3>
-</div>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/dc075.png' width='75' height='75' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi1_1'>
-All stuff and nonsense! Never hear them? What!<br />
-Their voices hear no more? Believe it not!<br />
-How! Voice of Jo or Plet not hear again?<br />
-Indeed! Pray whose voice was I hearing then?<br />
-Whose voice was that&mdash;bright, joyous, full and clear&mdash;<br />
-A voice that rang with every note of cheer!<br />
-Whose voice, indeed, if not the voice of Jo?&mdash;<br />
-And you'll concede I was the one to know.<br />
-My dear boy's voice as lusty as of old,&mdash;<br />
-Oh, no, he was not 'neath the graveyard mold!<br />
-His voice I heard proclaim it was the morn,<br />
-The sun was shining and the storm outworn&mdash;<br />
-And then, ere I could drink my happy cup,<br />
-Cut my thoughts short with orders to "get up!"</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>So all those things so dreadful were not true&mdash;<br />
-'Twas but a nightmare I had just passed through:<br />
-It was not fact our cabin had been struck,<br />
-No end so sad had come to mar our luck!<br />
-All false those hours upon the mountain side;<br />
-Jo's body down the slopes I did not guide;<br />
-He was not dead, nor Plet! It did but seem;<br />
-All a mistake, then, nothing but a dream!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Thank God it was so! That the heaped-up snow<br />
-Ourselves and cabin had not hurled below,<br />
-That there was One of Mercy that did spare,<br />
-Although ourselves had entered in the snare!<br />
-Thank Heaven, again, 'twas but Jo's mournful word,<br />
-To tragedy in my weak head transferred!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>You know what governs in a Christmas Tale&mdash;<br />
-That joyfully to end it must not fail,&mdash;<br />
-So as this life page I was telling you,<br />
-Such end of course I always kept in view.<br />
-To take the actual from the false apart,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>You see it really needs but little art&mdash;<br />
-Such rights as others take, I did but claim,<br />
-If I have pleased you, then I've gained my aim.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Oh, all unlike our trip upon the slope,<br />
-To that one of my dream bereft of hope!<br />
-The wintry sun had driven back the night,<br />
-All glistening lay the snow beneath his light.<br />
-As we sped downwards in unbounded zeal<br />
-Our snow-shoes sent the spray from off our heel,<br />
-The mountain hare, behind some bank cowered low,<br />
-We sent in scurry wild across the snow.<br />
-You never then had truly guessed my years,<br />
-That I was mad with gladness plain appears!<br />
-Jo's hot young blood in me seemed to have place,<br />
-And merrily with him I kept the race.<br />
-To see them stand together, O, what joy&mdash;<br />
-Plet all in smiles beside my darling boy;<br />
-To hear the music of her gentle voice<br />
-Made every fiber in my heart rejoice.<br />
-They looked like pair upon some antique vase,<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>My Jo all strength, and she all sweetest grace.<br />
-And when I thought, instead of grave and shroud,<br />
-It was the bridal feast, I laughed aloud!</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>And what a feast it was, too, when it came;<br />
-In that high camp you'll find it still has fame!<br />
-From lonely spots the guests came far and wide,<br />
-And Plet, indeed, was lovely as a bride.<br />
-You'll guess, of course, as best man I stood there,<br />
-And heard "Good Wishes" heaped upon the pair.<br />
-For that flushed look of pride who could blame Jo&mdash;<br />
-As on Plet's lips he did the kiss bestow?<br />
-I think we might as well own up as not&mdash;<br />
-That single life is but a dreary lot!<br />
-I'll bother you no more about our claim,<br />
-Or what the mine itself in time became&mdash;<br />
-The miner often will too much expect,<br />
-Yet our first guess was far below correct.<br />
-'Tis business here has caused me to sojourn<br />
-Until the pair from wedding trip return.<br />
-Of course they make their home in that same west<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>That gave Jo wealth and brought a love the best;<br />
-And I?&mdash;Yes, I am for the mountains, too;<br />
-Strange how their magic will a man pursue!<br />
-Yes, they will follow whereso'er you go,<br />
-As they who love them once will always know.<br />
-Another word,&mdash;to tell you all complete&mdash;<br />
-I feel again an itching in my feet;<br />
-"The Miner's Fever!" Give it once a hold,<br />
-It comes to stay, and burns in young and old:</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Shall I go to the Wasatch?&mdash;Why, of course!<br />
-To keep away requires the greater force.<br />
-And yet "Our Home" I almost dread to see&mdash;<br />
-Where metal's found there comes a stern decree&mdash;<br />
-The varied beauties of the mountain wild<br />
-To serve our greed are for the time defiled;<br />
-Each sturdy worker smites and cannot spare,<br />
-He follows law and makes deep havoc there.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>And in the mining camp each blast I hear,<br />
-But echoes of those others will appear&mdash;<br />
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>Those that above the snowy heights were borne,<br />
-To celebrate the happy Christmas Morn,<br />
-Those blasts by which his joy the miner tells,<br />
-And which we used in lieu of Wedding Bells!</p>
-
-<div class='figleft id003'>
-<img src='images/image080.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
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