UNWILLING WITNESS.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 7064, 9 February 1893, Page 4

UNWILLING WITNESS.

LITERATURE-

{CONTINUED.) 'You’ll never be to proper as that! The American does nut live who it contee t wit a day’s wages merely at enybiog/ *lt is time he wai boro, then/ raid Bodewin. '(Don't be to bismsl I It it nocomplimeetary, and it isn’t patriotic. When you see a girl like that from Kansas Oity. doesn’t it make you feel how rich tbs country mutt be in girls ?’ Bodewin laughed. ‘lfit bo not rich for me-—’, ‘ She’s not a Kansas City girl, yon know.’ •NoP’ 'No, she is not a Missourian. It would be strange if the were, even in name. Her family—that is. her mother’s family—have do cause to love Missourian*. Her tuotber’a father was shot dead—on his /p»h-:do6rstep, if you please—by a mob-of IMissourians during the border troubles.’ 'An unpleasant ..liMie .incident in the family history 1 should say.’ ' Unpleaiant I Ah, it must take a good many generations fop a shook like that to die ont of the blood ! And thsie was trouble enough and to spare before it came to the shooting—journeys aod hardships and struggles and excitements. You don’t ask *hat bis offence was !’ ‘—A bmye and consistent one, yes. He was one of that band of families who were turned back by (he cannon planted on the Missouri Elver to prevent tbs steamboats frSm lending FrneS«ate men. They went north by way ©t lowa and Nebraska (a cheerful little journey), and when they reached the border again, they Were met by government soldiers and deprived of their arms as if they had bom a band of coneiots. -No one, it seems, ever thought of disarming 'he Missourians. The grandfather Fletcher, Joseph Fletcher—hence Josephine—had signed a protest against the shameless election frauds. They came to his house one night and demanded to search the premises for incendiary books and papers. The New York ( Tribune ’ would bave hern incendiary, I suppose, in those days, or Whittier’s poems. He refused to let them in. He told them his wife was very ill— ’ ' Was she P ’ *Of course she was— so ill that she died soon afterwards. They accused him of signing the protest. He did not deny it, and they then politely informed him that they would not disturb bis wife that night, but would trouble him to go with them. They were going to tar and feather h'm, or do something hideous to him.’ 'How did he know that? ’ Tsuppose they told him. At all event' he refused to go with them. Wouldn’t you have refused P ’ ‘Possibly I should.’ * You know you would—any man would! They tried to compel him ; , be resisted, and they shot him. The family: were desired not to pollute the tsrritorywithfheir presence ariylonger. Theirfriends the Missourians escorted them to -the border—the wile,... two grown' son s, -and Mi ss Jurephine’s mother, then a girl ot sixteen. At some little town m Ohio they buried ( (heir mother. Toe eons remained there, and are now wealthy men in Cleveland. Toe daughter married Mr Newbdld. I cannot imagine how ho ever persuaded her to go back with him to Kansas, but he did at ; er the sacking and shooting were ovsr. Josephine was born at Wyamlot. She is juntas old as the Free-State Constitution.*

‘Did Maas Newbold tell you this story, Mr# Craig V I No ; ob, no I Th*t would n< t be

like her, Ism sure. Mr Newbold iold it to Mr Craig one day when they were alone together in the cilice. He was speaking of bis wife’s deiica'e beal'h, and the trial it was for Jo*epbine to leave her. But Mrs Newbold it seems, bad a perfect horror of tbe frontier; 1 should think she would hare. When she found her husband bent on this trip, sbs insisted Josephine should bear him company ; to take care of him, I suppose, if he should be : ill. He ■poke very nicely about bis wife, Mr Craig said; but I dare say be couldn't help being a little complacent over h*r anxiety about himself. Miss Newbold has never mentioned her mother to me but once. Sbs told me that her mother was born among the mountains, that she bad never seen thsm since her •childhood, and often dreamed of them with a home-sick longing ;-that she wanted her, Josephine, to them and and be among them while she was still a girl. I think that is so natural, and of coarse she would not say it-* to her husband.' * Wonldn't she P Why not P’ ‘ Could she talk about her dreams of the old home of the East she never expected to see again, to a man like Mr Newbold ?’ ‘ She perhaps does not take the same view of Mr Newbold that you do. At •11 events, she was willing at one time to exchange those dreams fur a reality which must have been something like him.' •Aa! that was the husband of her youth. Does be look like the husband of anybody’s youth ? He has deteiorated. He has let himself down, you may be sure of that. He has that ■leek, prosperous blood in him. ‘ You think there are no martyrs on Mr Newbo'd’s aide ?’ *1 should say, judging from papa Newbold, that as a family they would be distinguished by good digestions and a tendency to conform whenever opposition was likely to make things uncomfortable. However; I can’t be , just to kitnv -1 gave him such a horrible little dinner, and we never can forgive people we have irretrievably wronged.' . '

Mr Hillbury was in search of a prosroot hole, described as the highest one within a day’s ride of the camp, where certain fossil' records of the * Old Silurian ’ had lately come to light. By tbs measured clink of steel : upon steel, they were evidently not far from some form of human ladour. Following the trend of" the mountain, they came upon two men etanding face. to face on a limes tone ledge, at work n pon it with hammer and. drill. Fragments of broken rock and materials forblasting was sbattered aboot. There was no shelter or sign of, babßaton -near them. Josephihd, looking back to speak to Mrs Craig, saw that she had dismounted some distance below, and was seated on the sloping, rocky floor, while her husband readjusted her saddleblanket. Presently he sat down beside her, leaving the horses fastened together by their bridles, 'Aren’t they coming?’ Josephine asked Mr Hillbury.’ *Oh Craig!’ he called; ‘ are you coming up?’ -'No,* was the reply. ‘Take your time j we're all right.* They looked as if they were. Mrs Craig, waving an an revoir to Josephine/stretched herself Out flat upon the rook, Mr Craig doubled his legs under him and lit a cigarette, Josephine looked rather wistfully at this comfortable pantomine. * Aren’t you tired yourself P 7 Bode win asked. ' A little,’she admitted, 'How far is it to the lake ? ’ ‘ Half an boar’s climb down again. Let me take you off. It’s a pity to get too tired on your first climb,’ ... She let herself be lifted down. Bodewin hung her bridle over the pommel of bis own saddle, aod took his place beside her on the sun warmed rook. Mr Hillbury was already fossil hunting, tapping about with his scientific hammer, while the dead home strokes of the miner’s sledge beat continuously on the silence. For the sake of a brief respite from the sound, Bodewin addressed one of the miners stretching himself forward on an elbow to examine a hole they had prepared for blaaring, be asked :

{To be continued.)