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"tie was a new man, He could not
drink whisky and kiss Ms baby. And
tbe minersK It was really nbsurd If It
•were not so pathetic. It was the first
baby in Black Rock, and they used to
crowd Mnvor’s shop and peep into the
room at the back of It—I forgot to 'tell
you that when he lost his position ns
manager he opened a hardware shop,
nave pity, have pity, nave pity r ana
every man took off Ms hat. And still
the voice came nearer, singing so
brightly tbe refrain:
“ ‘Will ye no’ come back again?’
"It became unbearable. Old Ricketts
sprang suddenly to bis feet and, grip
ping me by the arm, said piteously:
" ‘Oh, go to her! For heaven’s sake,
for his people chucked him, nnd he was ' go to beny
too proud to write home for money— i "I next remember standing in her
just for a chance to he asked in to see
the baby. I came upon Nixon standing
at the back of tho shop after lie had
seen the baby for the first time, sob
bing hard, nnd to my question lie re
plied:
" ‘It’s just like my own.’
"You can’t understand this, but to
men who have lived so long in the
mountains that they have forgotten
whnt.n lmby looks like, who lmve liiul
experience of humanity only lit its
roughest, foulest form, this little mile,
sweet nnd clenn, was like an ‘angel
fresh from heaven, tho one link In all
that black camp that bound them to
what was pm^st and best in their past.
"And to seo the mother nnd her baby
handle the miners—oh, it was all beuu-
tiful beyond words! I shall never for
get the shock I got one night when I
found Old Ricketts nursing the baby.
A drunken old beast he was, but thoro
bo was, sitting, sober enough, making
extraordinary faces at the baby, who
was grabbing at his nose nnd whiskers
nnd cooing in blissful delight. Poor
Old Ricketts looked ns if be hnd been
caught stealing and, muttering some
thing about having to go,- gazod wildly
round for some place in which to lay
the baby, when in came the mother
saying In her own sweet, frank way:
‘Oh, Mr. Rickotts’—• she didn’t find out
till afterward his name was Shaw—
'would you mind keeping her just a lit
tle longer? I shall bp back in a few
minutes.’ And Old Ricketts guessed
he Oould wait.
“But in six months mother and baby
between them transformed Old Rick
etts into Mr. Shaw, fire boss of thd
mines, and then, in tho evenings, when
she would bo singing her baby to
sleep, tpo Uttlo shop would bo full of
miners, listening in dead silence to the
baby songs and the English songs and
the Scotch songs sho poured forth
without stint, for sho sang more for
them than for her baby. No wonder
they adored her. She was so bright,
so gay, that sho brought light with her
when sho* went into the camp, into the
pits, for sho wont down to seo the men
work, or into a sick miner’B shack,
nnd many a man, lonely and sick for
home or wife or baby or mother, found
in that back room cheer and comfort
nnd courage, and to many a poor
broken wretch that room became, ns
<me miner put it, ‘the anteroom to
heaven.’ ”
Ip
Mr. Oraig paused, and I waited.
Then ho went ( on slowly:
"For a year and a half that was the
happieBt home in all the world till one
day”—
He put his face in his hands and
•shuddered.
"I don’t think I can ever forget the
awful horror of that bright fall after
noon when Old Ricketts came breath
less to me nnd gasped, ‘Come, for the
dear Lord’s sake 1’ and I rushed after
Mm. At the mouth of the shaft lay
three men dead. One was Lewis Ma
yor. He had gone down to superintend
the running of a new drift. The two
men, half drunk with Slavin’s whisky,
set off a shot prematurely, to their
own and Mavor’s destruction. They
were badly burned, but bis face was
untouched. A miner was sponging off
the bloody froth oozing from his lips.
The others Were standing about wait
ing for me to speak, but I could find
no word, for my heart was sick, think
ing, ns they were, of the young moth
er and her baby waiting at. home. So
I stood, looking stupidly from one to
the other, trying to find some* reason,
coward that I was, why another should
bear the news rather than I, and while
we stood there, looking at one another
in fear, there broke upon us the sound
of a voiee mounting high above the
birch tops, singing:
" *Will ye no’ come back again?
■WiU ye no’ come back again?
Better lo’ed ye canna bei
Will ye no’ come back again?’
“A strange terror seized us. Instinc
tively the men closed up in front of the
body and stood in silence. Nearer and
nearer came the clear, sweet, voice,
ringing like a silver bell up the steep:
" ‘Sweet the lav’rock’s note and lang,
Liltin’wildly up the glen,
But ay .tae me he slugs ae sang,
"Will ye no* come back again?*
"Before the verse was finished Old
(Ricketts had dropped on his knees,
nobbing out brokenly,..‘O God,. O God,
path and seeing her holding out her
hands full of red lilies, crying out:.
‘“Are they not lovely? Lewis is so
fond of them!’
“With the promise of much finer ones
I turned her down a path toward the
river, talking I know not what folly
till her great eyes grow grave, then
anxious, and my tongue stammered
and became silent. Then, laying her
hand upon my arm, she said, with gen
tle sweetness:
" ‘Tell me your trouble, Mr. Craig,’
and I knew my agony had come, and 1
burst out:
‘“Oh, if it were only mine!’
"Sho turned quite white, and, with
her deep eyes—you’ve noticed her eyes
—drawing tho truth out, of mine, she
said:
;is it mine, Mr. Craig, and my ba
by’s?’
"I waited, thinking with what words I
to begin. She put one hand to her
heart and with the other caught a little
poplar tree that shivered under her
grasp and said, with white lips, but
even more gently:
“ ‘Tell me.’
"I wondered at my voiee being so
fctendy ns I said:
" ‘Mrs. Mnvor, God will help youynnd
your baby. There has been an acci
dent, nnd it is all over.’
"She was a miner’s wife, nnd there
was no need for more, I could see the
pattern of tbe sunlight falling through
the trees upon the grass. I could hoar
the murmur of the river and the cry of
the catbird in the bushes, but we seem
ed to be in a strange and unreal world.
Suddenly she stretched out her bands
to me and with a little moan said:
" ‘Take me to him.’
“‘Sit down for a moment or two,’ I
entreated.
“ ‘No, no; I am quite ready. See,’ She
added quietly; ‘I am quite strong.’
"I set off by a short out lending to
her home, hoping the men would be
there abend of us; but, passing me, she
wnlked swiftly through the trees, and
I followed in fear. As we came near
the mnin path I heard the sound of
feet, nnd I tried to stop her, but she,
too, had heard and knew.
‘“Oh, let me go!' she said piteously.
‘You.need not fear.’
"And I hnd not the heart to stop her.
In a little opening among the pines we
met the benrers. When the men saw
her, they laid their burden gently down
upon the carpet of yellow pine needles,
•and then, for they lind the hearts of
true men in thorn, they Avent nAvny into
the bushes and left her alone Avith the
dead. She went swiftly to his side,
making no cry; but, kneeling beside
him, she stroked his face nnd hands
and touched his curls with her fingers,
murmuring all the time soft Avords of
love.
" ‘Oh, my darling, my bonny, bonny
darling, speak to me! Will you not
speak to me just one little word? Oh,,
my love, my love, my. heart's love!
Listen, my darling!’
“And she put her lips to his ear,
whispering, and then. the awful still
ness. Suddenly she lifted her head
and scanned Ms face, and then, glanc
ing round with a wild surprise in her
eyes, she cried:
" ‘He will not speak to me! Oh, he
will not speak to me!’
"I signed to the men, and as they
came fonvard I went to her and took
her hands.
" ‘Oh,’ she said, with a wail in her
voice, ‘he will not speak to me!’
"The men were sobbing aloud. She
looked at them with wide open eyes
of wonder.
“ ‘Why are they weeping? Will he
never speak to me again? Tell me,’
she insisted gently.
"The Avords were running through
my head,
"There’s a land that Is fairer than day,
and I said them over to her, holding
her hands firmly in mine. She gazed
at me as if in a dream, and the light
slowly faded from her eyes as she
said, tearing her hands from mine and
waving them toward the 'mountains
and the woods:
" ‘But never more here! Never more
here!’
"I believe In heaven and the other
life, but I confess that for a moment it
al} seemed shadowy .beside the realit?
of tins warm, bright world, full of lire
and love. She was very ill for two
nights, and when the coffin was closed
a neAV bhby lay in the father’s arms.
"She slowly came back to life, but
there were no more songs. The miners
still come about her shop a.nd talk to
her baby and bring her their sorrows
and troubles; but, though she is al
ways gentle, almost tender, with them,
no man ever says, ‘Sing.’ And that is
why I ain glad she sang last week. It
wijg be gpod for her and good for
them.”
"Why does she stay?” I asked.
‘‘Mavor’s people wanted her to go to
them,” he replied.
“They have money—she told me
about it—but lier heart is in tbe grave
up there under the pines, and, besides,
she hopes to do something for the-min
ers, nnd >be will not leav T e them.”
I am afraid I snorted a little impa
tiently as I said: “Nonsense! Why,
with her face nnd manner and voice
she could be anything she liked in
Edinburgh or in London.”
"And Avby Edinburgh or London?”
he asked coolly.
“W|by?” I repented a little hotly.
"You think this is better?”
“Nazureth Avas good enough for tbe
Lord of Glory,” be answered, AA T itk a
smile none too bright, but it drew my
heart to him, and my heat wa# gone.
“How long will she stay?” I asked.
"Till her work is done,” he replied.
“And when will that be?” I asked
impatiently.
"When God chooses,” he answered
gravely. "And don’t you ever think
but that it is Avortb AVhile. One value
of Avork is not tbnt crowds stare at it.
Read history, man!”
He rose abruptly and began to walk
about.
“And d6n’t miss tbe whole meaning
of the life that lies at the foundation
of your religion. Yes,” he added to
himself, “the work is worth doing,
worth even her doing.”
I could not think so then, but the
light of the after years proved him
wiser than I. A man to see far must
climb to some height, and I was too
much upon the plain in those days to
catch oven a glimpse of distant sunlit
uplands of triumphant achievement
that lie beyond the valley of self sac
rifice.
CHAPTER V.
THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE.
iHURSDAY morning found
Oraig anxious, even gloomy,
but with fight in every line of
his face. I tried to cheer him
in my clumsy way by chaffing him
about his league, but he did not blaze
up, as he often did. It was a thing too
near his heart for that. He only shrank
ii little from my stupid chaff and said:
"Don’t, old chap. This is a good dea
to me. I’ve tried for tAvo years to get
this, and if it falls through now I shall
find it hard to bear.”
Then I repented my light words and
said: “Why, the thing will go sure
enough. After that s‘cene in the church
they Avon’t go back.”
“Poor felloAvs!” he said, as If to him.
self. “Whisky is about the only-excite,
meat they have, and they find it pretty
tough to give it up, and a lot of the
men are against the total abstinence
idea. It seems rot to them.”
“It is pretty steep,” I said. “Can’t
you do without it?”
“No; I fear not. There is nothing else
for it. Some of them talk of compro
mise. They want to quit the saloon
and drink quietly in their shacks. The
moderate drinker may have his place
in. other countries, though I can’t see
it. I haven’t thought that out, but here
the only safe man is the man who quits
it dead and fights If straight. Anythin
else is sheerest humbug and nonsense.”
I had not gone in much for total ab
stinence up to this time, chiefly because
its advocates seemed for the most part
to be somewhat ill balanced, but as I
listened to Craig I began to feel that
perhaps there Avas a total abstinence
side to tbp temperance question, and
as to Black Rock, I could see bow it
must be one thing or the other.
We found Mrs. Mavor brave and
bright. She shared Mr. Craig’s anxie
ty, but not his glpom. Her courage
was of that serene kind that refuses
to believe defeat possible and lifts the
spirit into the triumph of final victory.
Through the past week she had been
carefully disposing her forces.and win
ning recruits, and yet she never seemed
to urge or persuade the men. But as
evening after evening the miners drop
ped into the cozy room down stairs
with her talk and her songs she charm
ed them till they Avere wholly hers
She took for granted their loyalty,
trusted /them utterly and so made it
difficult for them to be other than true
men.
> That night Mrs. Mavor’s large store
room, wMch had been fitted up with
Seats, was crowded with miners when
Mr. Craig and I entered.
After a glance over the crowd Craig
said: “There’s the manager. That
means war.” And I saw a tall man,
very fair, whose chin fell away to the
vanishing point and whose hair was
parted in the middle, talking to Mrs
Mavor. She was dressed in some rich
soft stuff that became her well. She
was looking beautiful as ever, but
there was something quite new in her
manner. air of good fellowship
iwas gone, and she was the high bred
. . . M
lady, whose gentle 1 dignity and sweet Jr
grace, Avhile very AvinMug, Tbade fa- 8
miliarity impossible.
k The manager was doing his best and
appeared to be Well pleased with him
self.
“She’ll get him if any one can. I
failed,” said Craigs
I stood looking at the men, and a fine
lot of fellows they were. Free, easy,
bold in their bearing, they gave no
sign pf rudeness, and from their fre
quent glances toward Mrs. Mavor I
could see they Avere always conscious
of her presence. No men are so truly
gentle as are the westerners in the
presence of a good woman. They were
evidently of all classes and ranks orig
inally, but now and in this(country of
real measurements they ranked sim
ply according to the “man” in them.
‘‘See that handsome young chap of
dissipated appearance?” said Craig.
"That’s , Vernon Winton, an Oxford
graduate, blue blood, awfully plucky,
but quite gone. When he gets repent
ant, instead of shooting himself he
comes to Sirs. Mavor. Fact.”
“From Oxford university to Black j
Rock mining camp is something of a
step,” I replied.
‘‘That queer looking little chap in the
corner is Billy Breen. How in the
world has he got here?” went on Mr.
Craig.
Queer looking he was—a little man.
with a small 'head set on heavy, square
shoulders; long arms, and huge hands
that sprawled all over his body; alto
gether a most ungainly specimen of hu
manity. 1
By this time Mrs. Mavor had finished ’
with the manager and was in the cen
ter of a group of miners. Her grand
air was all gone, and she was their j
comrade, their friend, one of them
selves. Nor did she assume the role :
of entertainer, but rather did she, with ;
half shy air, cast herself upon their |
chivalry, and they were too truly gen-1
tlemen to fail her. It is hard to make r
western men, and especially old tim- :
ers, talk. But this gift was hers, and
it stirred my admiration to see her
draw on a grizzled veteran to tell how, ;
twenty years ago, he had crossed the
Great Divide and had seen and done
what no longer fell to men to see or
do in these new days. And so she won
the old timer* But it was beautiful to
see the innocent guile Avith which she
caught Billy Breen and drew him to
her corner near the organ. What she
was saying I knew not, but poor Billy
was protesting, waving his big bands.
The meeting came to order, with
Shaw in the chair and the handsome
young Oxford man secretary. Shaw
stated the object of the meeting in a
few halting words, but when he came
to speak of the pleasure he and all
felt in being together in that room his
words flowed in a stream, warm and
full. Then there was a pause, and Mr.
Craig Avas called, ,but he knew better
than to speak at that point. Finally
Nixon rose hesitatingly, but as he
caught a bright smile from Mrs. Mn-
vor he straightened himself as if for a
fight.
“I ain’t ho good at maldn’ speeches,”
he began, “but it ain’t speeches we
want. We’ve got somethin’ to do, and
what we want to know is how to do it.
And, to be right plain, we want to
know how to drive this cursed whisky
out of Black Rock. You all knoAV what
it’s doin’ for us, at least for some of us,
and it’s time to stop it now; or for
some of us it’ll mighty soon be too
late, and the only way to stop its work
is to quit drlnldn’ it and help others to
quit. I hear some talk of a league, and
what I say is if it’s a league out and
out against whisky, a total abstinence
right to the ground, then I’m with it.
That’s my talk. I move we make that
kind of a league.”
Nixon sat down amid cheers and a
thorus of remarks: • “Good man!”
"That’s the talk!” “Stay with it!” But
he Avaited for the smile and the glance
that came-to him from the beautiful
face in the corner, and with that he
seemed content *
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