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For Woman’s Wobk.
OUT OF THE PAST.
By Lizzie A. Vore.
There are hours in life when my heart is o’er
whelmed,
With memories sad and sweet;
Os by-gone hours, in the long, dead past.
And the friends I was wont to meet:
When the rustling leaves and the murmuring
breeze
Speak to me soft and low;
Ana the air is full of voices dear,
Out of the long ago.
When the gathering twilight, stealing round,
Is alive with visions fair.
And my eyes grow dim with sudden tears,
For toe faces smiling there.
Some of them have gone from the ranks of life,
And they speak not of earth to me,
But smile, and smile with beckoning eyes,
’Till my soul sighs to be free.
And some of the faces that smile or weep,
Are scattered far and wide.
They come sweet vigils with me to keep
In" the stilly eventide.
Some, come from the snow fields wild and bleak,
When the great storm king shrieks by;
And the sea birds scream on the barren rocks
’Neath the desolate, leaden sky.
And some have come from a warmer clime,
Where the spice laden breezes blow,
Or sighs through forest of pine,whose gloom
Knows naught of the suns warm glow.
Or softly sweeps through orange groves,
Or stirs the whispering palm,
■Where the rose and starry jasmine gleam,
And life is one long psalm.
But it matters not from whence they came,
They find a welcome in my heart.
They come with the shadows—these dreams so
dear.
Os my life each holds a part.
Dear loved faces, out of the past!
Come to me, come to me, into my heart!
For souls that are bound by love so sweet,
Distance, nor time, nor death can part.
Be ye from earth, or bright spirit land.
Oh, faces, beloved! Sweet phantom band !
Come to mo. come linger in sight
Till the twilight is o’er and we meet in the light.
Pasadena, Cal.
For Woman’s Work./
ONLY THE RANCHER S
/ DAUGHTER.
' BY GENIE ORCHARD.
(
‘‘"How many miles to Buena Vista, my
good man”?
“Five miles about, sar! and if you see on
your way tbar, my gal Millet, say to her
that Dick Daring is waitin’ at the gulch
fur her, and fur her to come and not keep
her pa waitin’ fur all night.” '
“Certainly, I will, but how shall I know
your girl Millet? ”
“Know Millet! why surely you must be
a stranger in these bills—every man, and
every kyote even fur miles about, knows
Millet, or hearn tell of her! vhy she’s a
beauty! and can shoot a buck as well as
the best of us; but sir, she's wild and
mighty self willed, but if gold can tame
her and make her a lady, she’ll be one
sure. Yes, sir, Buena Vista you’ll find
about five miles in them tall hills over yon
der Tell Millet I’m waiting”
“Thank you, we will send Millet to you—
that is if we find her.”
The speaker was Macon Eager, who was
in company with Frank Manson, both men
on a tour of pleasure through the Rocky
Mountains of Colorado. They had left
New York, a month previous, and had
traveled mostly on horse-back, through
intricate parts of the mountains, where only
the Indian, or the enterprising engineer
dared go.
The day was near its closing. The
whole western sky seemed melted into a
sea of gold, that plunged and writhed in
waves of burnished light, catching in its
billows the peaks of a thousand mountains,
whose snow-crested brows caught the
prismatic glory of the setting sun.
Mount Princeton one of the highest
{teaks ol the Rookies, towered grandly,
ike a warrior clothed in snow, with a hun
dred lances of gold within its rugged arms,
while beneath and around,the lesser height*
rose like a marching host. With every
second the view changed; from brassy
warmth, and clouds of rose, into brown and
grey, with stern shadows and richest por
phery tints.
For several minutes the men rode on in
silence, when suddenly E«ger halted and
pointed beyond and exclaimed with entbu
siam, “There is a view that surpasses the
Yosemite, or anything in the Alpsl I’d
rather pitch my tent right here in the val
ley of the Arkansas, than spend the rest of
my life in the Parisian courts.
’Tie easier for a man to be true to his no
blier instincts, here amid all this natural
grandeur. ’Tis easier to believe in a Deity—
believe in Eternity, here in this forest of
rock, where each canyon is like a passage
way to a soul’s destination.”
“Amen!” sarcastically cried his com
panion. ‘’Eager, stop you cranky sermoniz
ing, and come on. I’m freezing, man, and
a view from the summit of Pisgah into the
New Jerusalem could not stop me now.”
and drawing close his collar about his face,
he rode briskly forward. The two men
who wt re congenial friends of years stand
ing, were however different in temperment
and character Manson was cold, selfish and
satirical, while Eager was impulsive, gen
erous, and enthusiastic. This dissimilarity,
was a wedge that strengthened their attach
ments, forming a friendship seldom of long
duration, among those of mutual aspir
ations and interests.
“We must not forget Millet, however.”
said Manson, “it would be just like y- u
to go through the whole country seeking
the girl, just to please the old man. Hurry
up, Eager, my boy; I’m in earnest now. I’m
numb with cold.’’and he shook his hands, to
renew the circulation.
Just then the air rang with a voice clear
and strong, like that of some wild bird.
“We stole the Red Man's home—
And a Toinmv hawk big has he—
Tral lai lai”—
“That’s Millet sure—listen!” cried Eager.
And scarcely had he spoken, than there
above on a projecting ledge, stood a young
girl, tall and erect, with a cloud of dusky
hair floating about her. The buckskin
jacket and crimson skirt, seemed suited to
the rustic beauty of the girl, as she poised,
like some wild, graceful animal, above the
precipice. She saw the two strangers,
and would have made a retreat but the
earth beneath her feet gave way, and
she came scampering and trembling almost
at the feet of the horse. In a moment
Eager was off his horse, and had the girl in
his arms. “Poor child! are y->u hurt?”
cried he gently, catching her slender wrist,
from which drops of blood had begun ooz
ing—“ This is Millet, is it not?”
The girl broke into a merry, ring
ing laugh, as she stood erect. “Well sirs,”
she cried, “this beats all. How’d you
know I was Millet, stranger? Everybody
knows me, that’s what Jim Blay and Pa
says, but they mean all the folks in the
gulch, and in these hills and at the mines,
but you two ain’t them sort.” Much
amused, Eager listened to the rustic
language of the girl, and taking her arm,
he gently wound around it his soft silk
handkerchief as she rattled on in her in
nocent, ignorant way. “Eager, come on 1”
cried Manson, who had gone on for some
distance, and grown impatient as he saw
his companion lingering. “I am freezing,
and you are making yourself a fool over
only a rancher’s daughter. I’ll wait no
longer,” and surely he rode along. Millet
struck an attitude of insulted dignity, and
looking at the letreating form of Mansoil,
pointed at him with the scorn of a tragic
queen. “Only the rancher’s daughter!”
she mockingly said. “And’ who is he?
Some weak-hearted pale-faced coward, I
guess. I would give the Indian yell and
scare him to death, if he was not your
friend. Whew! how he would run!” and
she laughed the same ringing laugh that
made the mountain echo, and that Eager
thought the most beautiful music he had
ever heard.
“Do you mean that it is because you
like me, that you will not make him think
an Indian is pursuing him with a toma
hawk?” and Eager pressed the little, hand
gently, that he still held, a, d looked with
genuine admiration into the up turned
face of the girl. Millet looked him full in
the face, and with innocent candor replied.
“Why, yes, Ido like you. It is just about
five minutes since I first saw you, but I
don’t think I ever did like any one as well
in all my life. You look so brave. Your
eyes have a light in them like the blue i»
the sapphire when y u hold it up to the
sun. and your hands are so smooth and
white; but it is not because you are so
beautiful that I loveyou, it is because you
were not too proud to get from your horse
and catch me when I fell, and bind up my
bru sed arm with those same white hands
lam only Nliliet—a wild mountain girl,
but remember that my heart is not too
rough to be touched by your kindness.
My lather owns mines and cattle. lean
buy and sell again, I guess, the proud
fellow with the pale face, who called you a
fool for noticing me. If you ever want
nuggets of pure gold, or ruby rock, or stones
that your eyes are the color of; if you
ever want cattle, or the finest horse that
ever you rode, just come to the gulch and
ask for Dick Daring’s cottage, and I’ll be
there and I’ll divide with you. You can
take “Black Bess” if you like her. Now,
will you come with me?”
What at first had amused Eager, now
touched his heart with an emotion that
made tears gather in his eyes, and awaken
ed an admiration that he could not class
ify-
“My noble girl, your wordstonch me!
Your generous gratitu le is more be utiful
than anything I have ever found in the
polished worldlings who would scorn you !
1 will not accept your offers now, Millet,
for I have wealth; but my little girl should
you ever need a friend, call on me; this is
my card. Good bye” and he caught both
little sun-burnt hands in his own, and
’kissed them. She took the card and read
the name.
“Macon Eager, 44 Sth Avenue, New
York City.”
“If I ever go there I will be svre a id go
to see you,” she said, “but I nev»r w 11, for
I would not leave th' se hills £ r all the
great cities except, to see you 1”
“Millet! Millet!” and the air echoed
with the name, as a sturdy figure emerged
from’the canyon in the grey growing twi
light, “Yes, Pa, I’m coming!” cried the
girl and quickly catching Edger’s band she
kissed it. and darted away like a phan
tom in the shadows.
Eager stood for some moments before
mou' ting his horse and looked until the
girl was lost to sight.
“Well!” said he “she is a combination
of simplicity, generos'ty, ignorance and
courage. She is a medley of contradic
tions, and with all—the most bewitching
little beauty I ever met. I may be, as
Manson called me, ‘a fool’—but I swear
I hate to leave the child,” and be slowly
mounted his horse and rode on, almost for
getting bis companion’s anger, in the
thought of the wild beauty and candid inno
cence of the girl. When he overtook Manson
a few miles from Buena Vista, Eager was
silent, and his companions sneering allusion
to the “wild girl,” grated on him. Had it
not been an act of madness and folly, he
would have turned back and followed the
little figure with her crown of mid-night
hair and starry eyes. Bathe dared not.
In bis dreams that night, he sawhermount
ed on her prancing “Black Bess.” that she
so willingly had* offered him—racing
through forests, chdbing the antelopes over
the plains, and as ske neared a precipice
he awoke with a cpy. That night and
many more, be saw in the mists of dream
land, the sweet oval face, and the little
bruised arm, and felt the quick, warm kiss
on his hand, but as the years passed, he
ceased to dream, and the dissipation of his
former life allured him o“, and he was
launched in the current of a worldly career
that is sure to petrify the heart, and
darken the soul.
*****
The gay social season was at its height
in New York. The year was near its close,
and the wealth and fashion < f the city were
in a state of rivalry. Frank Manson was
at most of the brilliant gatherings, court
ly and polished in learning, he possessed a
fortune that allowed him to entertain in
princely style. He and Macon Eager had
been called “ Damon and Pythias.” and
other names denoting a devoted friendship
of years standing, but, it was noticed tbit
Manson was alone now.’ He sought naw
companionships. It was rumored that the
handsome Macon Eager had staked too
high on a game, and lost. In a short pe
riod of a few months, be drifted from
wealth into obscuity, and in the vortex of
fashion he was a lost star, soon forrotten,
no one heeded, but the great world went
on. while Manson moved into the upheav
ing waves of prosperity, and popularity.
*****
“ By jove! of all fellows, Manson is the
most fortunate,” exclaimed one of a group at
the Opera of Fra’Diavolo, where the most
brilliant crowd of the season was gathered,
and a dozen lorgnetts were leveled at the
box where sat Frank Manson, who was
bending, in evident admiration, over a
woman of marvelous beauty. She reclined
in graceful abandon, and her dark languid
lovlmess, was enhanced by a dazzle
of jewels, that blazed about her like ice
bergs under the sun. “ Who is she?”
cried voices everywhere, and in a moment
this beautiful stranger who had shot like a
meteor into the very heart of the gay, social
world, was the object of attention. ‘She’s
too dark,” said one woman. “ She has a
languid abandon that is vulgar” said an
other. But the men in unison uttered the
verdict, that she was the most marvelous
beauty who had ever dazzled the metro
polis. From that night she was the tage.
Millet Daring—the cattle king’s only
daughter, and the heiress to millions, be
came the queen of society. Her original
vagaries, her dashing demeanor, her utter
disregard for social amenities were all
pardoned beneath her beauty, and her
wealth. Behind a pair of jet black ponies,
she could be seen driving through the park.
While again she would plunge at Mazeppa
like speed through the public drives. Yet
her name was never sullied, even by the
most envious. Men worshipped her. and
in vain bowed at her shrine ; she smiled on
all alike, and held in the tendrils of her
magnetism, all who came beneath the
influence of her witchery. It was said that
Manson was the favored one. He, who had
never before acknowledged the power of
any woman, openly avowed his adoration
for this dark mountain beauty—“ Star of
the West” as she was called. One eve
ning while Manson was in company with
Millet, she suddenly exclaimed, “If you
would prove your love, find my friend for
me—this is his card, I have treasured it
since I was a child in my far Western
home. I have constantly asked those I
met if they knew him, but they gave me
no satisfaction. Will you Mr Manson,
help me to find him?” And as she handed
Manson the card, his face suddenly chang
ed color. “ Macon Eager.” he exclaimed,
“ where did you know him ? Once he
was my most intimate friend and associate,
but he became wreckless and worthless, so
we have drifted apart, and he is only a
B-.nk clerk now. You have o'ten heard
me speak of my tour through your loved
Rockies. Well, Eager was my companion
then, and the most enthusiastic man he
was. He raved over every thing he saw,
from the sly Kyote, Io the wild mountain
maiden. Why, one evening he spent an
hour in consoling an ignorant, awkward
girl, because she fell and scratched her arm.
His soft, weak heart Was his ruination.
But we waste time, my beautiful Queen.
Tell me, will you marry me.and falling up
on his knees he caught the jeweled hand of
the woman he adored, and implored her by
every phrase of affection and idolatry to
return his mad mastering passion. A new
light seemed to dawn over the face of
Millet. “Oh! I see now ” she exclaimed,
almost inaudiably. “Itis so plain—now—
I remember” —and with sudden dignity
she towered higher, it seemed, in her pride
and beauty. A look of scorn came into
her face, as she haughtily and mockingly ex
claimed, with a wave of her arm, “ Rise
Frank Manson,” you are making yourself
a fool over ‘ only the Rancher's daughter.'
“Go!” she exclamed, “my revenge is sweet
and complete. When I was an innocent ig
norant child in the cabin near the gulch of
the beautiful valley of the Arkansas, when
I fell wounded at your feet, you scorned
me, and passed on in your pride and selfish
ness. The heart that was so veneered
with worldly garnish, was so unmanly, so
contemptible as to desert the humble girl
of the Ranch, is unworthy to touch the
hand of the ‘Star of the West,’ the cattle
king’s only Daughter.” And with the
same silvery laugh, that had often made the
canyons echo, and the wild beast calm,
that same laugh rung down the curtain of
destiny over the life of Frank Manson,
and as he left the presence of the only wo
man he ever loved, he went out into the
darkness with a crumbled pride and a
broken heart.
*****
The winter was almost over. Millet
Daring after a season of triumph that far
surpassed her wildest dreams, was making
preparations to leave the city, when, she
accidently read in the morning's Herald
these lines, that made her heart ceaseibeat
ing a moment and her head reel.
“The once brilliant and popular Macon
Eagar, has been arrested for embezzlement.
The banking hous eof Lyons & Son, in
whose employ he has been for a year past,
prosecutes him for the amount of eight
thousand dollars. His failure to pay the
amount will condem him to imprisonment
etc etc.”
*****
An hour later, a tall, veiled woman en
tered the banking house of Lyons & Son,
and handing a check to the astonished
Cashier, said, “Accept this in payment for
the shortage of money, of which you accuse
Macon Eagar. Have him at once inform
ed of his freedom from debt, and please de
deliver to him the receipt with the enclosed.
Writing on a slip of paper these words:
“The little scar remains on my arm yet,
and the memory of that noble, manly act,
of five years ago, is still fresh in my heart.
“The Rancherslittie daughter,
“At the Gulch.”
With this note she inclosed a check for
an amount equal to that which she had left
with the banker.
That night a peace and joy stole in her
heart, that all the conquest of her brilliant
career had not given.
The eyes with their sapphire light, had
aroused the first aspirations to a life that
had never known tenderness before.
The manly soul, that is seen in small
acts, as well as in great ones, met its re
ward. And who can tell but that these
two lives that met so lightly on a ripple of
fate, may not at last have floated on life’s
current into a uniting wave of eternal
love.
FINISHED WORK.
It is unfortunately the habit of many
people, and it is a habit that was formed in
youth, to finish only that part of their
work that is in sight. The part that is not
seen is left with rough edges, or long
stitches, or, if possible, work is only done
that is seen. Years, centuries ago, in
Greece there lived a sculptor whose work
teaches us a lesson.
A sculptor was employed to erect a
statue in one of the Grecian temples, and
on being asked why he carved the back
part, which was to be set into the wall,
wtih as much pains as the front, he replied,
“ The Gods see it.”— From the Workman.