"No; it burned down 'bout a year ago,—folks says Betty set it on fire to git the insurance, an' I 'low 't is true; fer ever' one knowed the house an' ranch was worth more sep'rate than together. Betty she married agin 'fore three months was over."
"Did she get a good husband?" asked the cruiser, with a side wink at us.
'Waal, speakin' o' thet, I 'low I 'll hev to own up thet I ruther slandered Prov'dence at the fust, fer it did take another turn to the side o' justice in this case. The feller she married turned out a reg'lar blackleg, mean, an' ugly an' jealous into the bargain. They say he would n't so much as let 'er speak to any other man, or hardly let 'em look at 'er; an' ef Betty can't have men-folks to admire 'er she might 's well be dead an' buried, fer all the (pleasure she gits out o' life. They say she 's 'fraid as death of 'im, an' thet he 's spent all 'er money, an' led 'er sich a life thet her beauty 's all faded out, plumb gone. No, I did n't give Prov'dence no fair show, fer a fact. But don't you forgit what I said in startin' out, young feller. Ef yer goin' to marry, don't yer no-ways go back on hered'ty."
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NIGHT WIND.
THE wind came and cried out unto the night,
Beneath the moon and clouds, the cries of earth;
The sweep of all the prairies in its voice,
The depth and heavings of the wide, wide seas,
The gloom of mountain valleys, low and dark,
The brave desire of trees on barren heights,
The longings dim that live in soft, gray mists,
Farewells that white sails fling to setting suns,
And tales of ages that the desert sand
Gives forth in silence to the listening palms
That lean their scattered ranks along its edge;
The marshes' lowly peace, the strength of rocks
That stand against the passion of the waves,
Controlling by endurance, loneliness
Of shorn fields lying in the autnmn dusk;
Earth's pathos and earth's patience and earth's power,
These spake the wind unto the listening night,
And hearts that waked and hearkened heard and knew.
Aurilla Furber.
