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Page 75 text:
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,...-.,...,.,,,...,,,,.,.,.N.,...,..,.s...........,.......-.......,...,,....,,.,. .... .h,,. .... .... ,....... ,.... .,.,. ......M......-.,....... ..., -a...s.....,...............-............-..-....-.-...- .-...- y1u:::::r:.:::::'Y'.:':'.?'..:'.:'::am1::'::Lt:.:::::::::m1.:.:1:T:2.'.fLT:':z::.1:1L'.:2:-'1f!3S!::::::-::::::r..':r:::.1':::::.L::'g.r:Lt::Q1: 1 g Fu g.. 1-,g,.W5,V g l . h ZW Z5 ,ka ' A - ' r 3-fi ff 3' 'l'ii f f. f'f' 4 isis. i , . ,. iss-T' ' 3 5 Q 5 Q Es -. ji S is!ff:zQ'z'it...a....:.g:taxi :Eff il-:Lsz.:::.zz-:::x.::::::::::.:::::::::::::::r:::::,:::v::::x:r:.:::::a1:1:::z::::..g.::::::::::::::.1::gg:LE SESZQL:li:::.aT.t......,iigif,..cf,iL-f Tl-IE NARROW. TRAIL CLOYD L.xr'oR'rE-june, 1912 A IDDEN in the deep recesses of one of our western mountain ranges rlows a river of melting snows, whose waters dash wild and turbid from rock to rock at the bottom of a deep canyon. The stream becomes a torrent in the height of the summer, when the sultry sun liberates the water from its milk-white prison of a winter's accumulationg but at this particular point, where it cuts its way through a mountain of stone, it pursues its course unseen and unappreciated, save as far as the sound of its flow is echoed by the neighboring hollows and carried to in- frequent travelers on the road a thousand feet above. -5 fl: .., -ga: 'k . pi '-E ,g h- Years ago, before the railroad came, be- fore the Eastern capitalist laid hold of its beauties and dispelled its fairy enchantment with the smoke of a locomotive, the grind of turning wheels and the prose of a trail of iron, it was a picturesque spot indeed. Half way up the side of the canyon a narrow and rough road clung, hugging the wall of rocks and earth above, as if afraid that a too reckless attempt to see to the bottom of the corroding stream below would lead to a sudden and disastrous end. It looked across the gorge to a range of peaks and raviues rising into the azure above or sink- ing far below it to form a nest of echoes eager to catch any unusual sound and trans- mit it in endless reverberations and dying sighs. The Indians used to pray to the mys- terious sounds and old settlers revered them. It is said that when the conditions are right one can hear a peculiar weird sigh, which the winds carry from no apparent source to the echoes in the hills. Dusk is said to be the best time on a fine summer evening, and you must listen well or you may be disap- pointed. l The trail which wound along its edge and slipped down into gulches and surmountecl vexatious buttes in its path was so narrow that but one wagon and that with difficulty could follow it. It was not long, and not a common place of travel for it was used in those days only by Indians and an occasional prospector seeking a more fruitful location in which to pursue his labors. The road was partly natural and partly made by the blasting of pioneers who saw in it the only available way to cross the range. So spar- ing had they been of their time and gun- powder that in one spot only had they pro- vided a place Wide enough to admit two travelers passing. What would be the re- sult if two wagons met on the narrow path? Backing along that rolling cliff was an im- possibility. we shall not try to conjecture the outcome. It is not necessaryg the trail is gone and in its place a broad and smooth roadbed. But it was different then, oh. so different l A score of years ago-but still within the memory of the present generation-a bent old man halted a decrepit. nondescript team at the entrance of the path at the foot of the ascent. and led them to the edge of the rushing river to slake their thirst. XVhile their noses were plunged deeply in the cold water and they greedily drank their fill, the old man, a few yards farther up, moistened his parched lips also. Rising slowly and a trifle stiffly he led the team back to a rickety wagon and again made them fast. Did ye drink' well, old fellows? he mur- mured, patting the old mule and burying his head in the mane of the blind outside horse. It's a good thing 'cause it's hot and no water till morning. You and me won't be travelin' this road again, Buck. XV hen we strike that gold on the other side of the Needles, what we've been hearin' about, we won't need to work no more. ' Seventy-one
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Page 74 text:
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eff aqui X fx gi 1 ..............t,..........,...-.., ..,.....,. ..m......-.... . ..,...-.. ...., ..,......,. ..... -......-,,............--.......,...--...s...............................,.....-.....4-...--m---.- cezafw ' ' fffsiif- fl . 1. ..f .V . ,., -r Aw- --I , .syn 12' ' ' -' af- Y- pvfzf1:'.5-M15 ' ' l sg il - S .-,aw ., r 1 . is U, .... , as , , ,xiii .. . . - . , . , f, .,,, 1. , 1 , J .,.,,. Z Di 1 L 5 41 ,v. -f 1 A A MOTHER GOOSE MODERNIZED AND YEATMANIZED JXDDIE B121 Mus TOM, TOM, THE PIPER'S SON Tom, Tom, the Pipers son, Stole a pigskin and away he run. He ran and ran and never stopped Till past the goal the ball he dropped. MARY, MARY, QUITE CONTRARY Mary, Mary, quite contrary, Oh, how do your grades go? Oh, M's and P's and F's and G's All in a nice, straight row. SING A SONG OF YEATMAN Sing a song of Yeatman, A satchel full of books, Four and twenty lessons, Beware the teacher's looks. VVhen the day is opened, The lessons they do hear. If you -do not have them, You have much to fear. COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO Cock-a-doodle-doo, Mary's lost her shoeg Tillie's lost her middy blouse, And don't know what to do. -J anuary, 1924 LITTLE JACK HORNER Little .lack Horner sat in a corner Trying to do his math. He wrote down an X and rubbed out a And said, Wl1at a good boy am I. NEEDLES AND PINS Needles and pins, needles and pins, Gee. I'll be happy when Yeatman wins A FE, FI, FO, FEM Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum, I smell the scent of a chemistry roomy Be it sulphur or be it not, I think the teacher should be shot. SIM PLE SIMON Simple Simon met a student Going' up to school. Said Simple Simon to the student, Do I look like a fool ? Said the student to Simple Simon, XVell, now, I just cannot say, But it seems to me, my little man. That you look like a nice New Tay. THE OLD XVOMAN WHO LIVED IN A SHOE There was an old woman who lived in a-shoe, She had so many children she didn't know what to dog She sent them to Yeatman to learn 'em some books, G But the iirst thing they did was to fix up their looksi Seventy
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Page 76 text:
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.-..........,........-......--..W.............a.-...Hs...................,......-..a-........s,,s....- ............... ......................,..- ..,.......,.,, . .... ,..-,...-.... .sy-,. ......,,,4,,,. ,.,. . , .g, . , , , ,, W . .. ., ,. - ,M o 5, H - ' gg 1 ' ki? -QQ-gg-'gl ..,. u.::.....,- TZEZIT.. LE,-.,....'- '::ir:.....M''TSL:T::7:::ILZ:7L1:f:''f :' ::: ' f TTTE:::t::f'::1'::IfT':Z11.i mah- is-Zi-'12' ,......,,.,.........Mwo1'-f--w ---- - -D...--.,.., , ,, .-.4-.--...., - ' - --,. . ' :uv---fir-'w'f , --- nv, ,... JV- ' ' The horse turned its eyes to him and rub- bed its nose against the manis body. , I believe you understand, Buck, tinued the old man, in the same vein. You an' me's been together long enough. You and Jack's all I got now, I've lost it all, except you two. Let's start up the trail and get through with it. C011- He ran ahead a short distance and lay flat on the ground with his ear to the rocky surface, listening with all the intent of which his failing senses were capable. Then he returned to the wagon, after a thoughtful look and gave the starting command. The crazy vehicle, carrying a simple camp outfit and a kit of prospector's tools, moved slowly up the mountain through the length of the sultry afternoon. The load was light, but the team pulled hard and toiled pain- fully, urged by a sympathetic voice from the seat. That voice was not strong, for its hermit owner, known as The Old Man of the Mountains, had long passed the period of vocal vigor. He was old enough to cross a greater divide than the one he was then upon, to undertake a different trail and a longer journey. At the single wide place, designed for meetings with travelers, he again halted, listened and finally pushed on. He had gone some distance before he noticed the pricking up of the horse's ears which, since he was deprived of sight, were especially keen. The old man's partial deaf- ness had precluded any faint sounds which might have been caught by the animal. At first he gave the horse's actions no par- ticular attention, ,attributing them to the strange echoes he believed the spot to be infected with, but the horse persisted in showing so much interest in the distance ahead that he stopped and listened. A minute-no sound 5-two minutes-no soundg the third minute-and the man's heart stood still. He gave a nervous, sup- pressed cry and crawled along the tongue Seventy-two between the horse and mule and leaped wildly to the ground. He placed his ear against the earth and listened, hoping to disprove the verdict of senses. This time he heard a faint, yet certain rumbling as- oh, horrible thought-of a wagon. For a moment he stood still and looked with wild eyes in every direction as if seek- ing an escape he knew was not in existence. Then he buried his head once more in the blind horse's mane and let fall a tear, a dry, poverty-stricken tear from wrinkled and moistureless eyes. Climbing back into the wagon he again started the team, and ad- vanced to meet the terror ahead. Down small knobs and vales of rough road they toiled with the steep mountain towering over their left and the infathom- able depth of the river channel at their immediate right. As they advanced the sound grew louder and soon became recog- nized as that of pounding hoof-beats and turning wheels. The team picked its way down a rocky hill, bearing back on the breeching and running at the bottom to start up a short but -steep ascent. They tugged and strained and tore out small stones which rolled over the side and fell into the water far below with a faintly audible splash. Up the hill, they came out on a short level stretch and revealed to the man's eyes a heavy team of handsome blacks, drawing a heavier load faster and easier. The two teams stopped. ' Hello, ther l came a rough voice behind the blacks. From what scrap heap did ye get that pile o' junk? Did you just come back from the bone-yard ? There was no reply and the two men climbed out along the wagon tongues and met for a consultation. There could have been no greater contrast all around. The one team large, handsome and spiritedg the other decrepit and weak, one wagon and harness new and bright, the other dilapi- dated, worn and eked out with baling wire. The difference between the two men, one
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