The Prospector
a cayuse along the lake shore, suddenly rein
a lovely spot, and if only father
f all sizes and shapes that huddled about the end of the lake and constituted Loon Lake village. As she drew near the largest of the houses, which was dignified by the name of Loon Lake Stopping Place, she came upon a group of children gathered about a little cri
ad children, to tease poor Patsy so. Be off with you. Come
his brother, a sturdy little red-headed lad of s
the ground," sobbed Patsy, lifting a pale
aid soothingly, "I'll help
mily. "And I'll knock their blank, blank heads off, so I will!" A
wful words," said the girl, laying her hand
ust wish God would se
girl. "That's awful. Never,
k God to-night, and mother said He
r think those awful things. Come
a story," he s
atsy. I'll come into the hous
dren were drawn in an enchanted circle about the singer. So entranced were the children and so interested the singer that they failed to notice the door of the Stopping Place open. A slovenly woman sho
n' at that now, will
e changed as the sun brea
he badgers out av their holes with thim songs av hers. And thim little divil
d her husband, with wond
the cantankerous little curmud
her husband. "It's th
ll be hearin' ye, an' it'll be the
v Thim," said her scept
ng herself. "Sure, prayin' is jist as aisy as curs
she is," as the girl struck up
ning, came the voice through the closed door. The man and
is she singin', at a
his hand. "It's like a wild burrd," h
rroll pityingly. "Left alone so soon afther comin' to this sthrang
s face d
ank ould fool, crazy as a jack rabbit! An' Oi'
in, Tim?" ventu
be thrown a
does ye d
, slippin' tongue av 'im. He'd talk
y a stream of oaths in a shrill child
rve us, it's little Patsy. Tim, ye'll 'av to be spakin' to that child
he door, follow
'ye mane swearin' loike that, Patsy? Oi'll knock yer
her when the other children fled. "It's that blank, blank Batch
who had got off to a safe distance. "Go on, Marion, an' sing phat ye loike
p in his arms very gently an
putting his puny arm round his father's hairy
hat, Patsy?" asked hi
last week when th
Oi'm thinkin' ye do
d, can't ye?" p
t Oi said, anyway, Patsy
ad, some day, an' lick the hull to
ed and held him cl
ed the lad, the little face tur
vir man some day," said the big man huskily, w
ybody," persisted Patsy. "An' th
lack with wrath. He p
n any av thim, Patsy avick, an' that ye will. An' they'll all be standin' bare-headed afore ye some day. But Patsy, darlin',
sted the little b
ly. "Don't ye want to go on the pony with
little Patsy, his pale, beau
ng after the pair as they rode off up the trail. "It's
lickin' that hurts, afther all. An' it's ha
and went into the house. Meantime Mari
d the boy, and they took the trail th
of rock that rose sheer out of the blue water of the lake, "I'll put you
f the bare rock and leaned far out over the water. This was the swimming place for the boys and men of the village; and an ideal p
rl after she had picketed her p
ayan, I like
begin he cried, "Who's that comin'
ried a horseman far away where th
red the girl. "Who is
waiting for a few minute
. You know Perault went o
sy. "That's father's pony.
gazed anxiously at t
lt," she said to herself.
e, and stood waiting with disturbed face. As the
g little Frenchman, pulling up his pony with a jer
is reassuring,
you come back? Where is father
inting up the trail. "We strak de bad l
rning her piercing black eyes on his
ssef, by gar! Hees trow hees feet out on de water. Bymbe hees come all right for a meenit. Den dat fool pony hees miss de crossing. Hees go dreef down de stream where de high bank hees imposseeb. Mon Dieu! Das mak me scare. I do'no what I do. I stan' an' yell lak one beeg fool me. Up come beeg feller on buckboard on noder side. Beeg blam-fool jus' lak boss. Not 'fraid noting. Hees trow rope cross saddle. De ole boss hees win' heem roun' de horn. Poof! das upset dat pony once more. Hees trow hees feet up on water, catch ole boss on head an' arm, knock heem right off to blazes. 'Good bye,' I say, 'I not see heem more.' Beeg feller hees loose dat rope, ron down on de bank hitching rope on willow tree a
to Perault's dramatic tal
hurt at all, th
en he added lightly, "Oh! hees broke some small bone-
're not telling me the truth. You're ke
ing 'tall. He not ride ver' well, so hees come on beeg feller's buckboard. Dat's fine beeg feller! Mon Die
ming back then?" aske
n on de Black Dog, an' all hees stuff, so de ole bo
here, Perault?" ask
rault with some hesitation, "de ole bos
him, she lifted little Patsy on to the saddle and, disdaining Perault's offered hel
his head as he set off after her as fast as his
ost hidden in a bluff of poplar and spruce. A little further
the key at your house. Will you get
t eagerly. "I get
she replied kindly.
returned she found Perault had the fire lit and Josie, his bright-eyed, pretty, little wife
, running to Marion as she entere
uffly, "shut up you. You g
ion to her husband and c
renchwoman's kindly face, "tell me, is my father
so ver' bad, but de cole wate
ay toward the door and saying, "I'll go and get some crocuses
our the girl cam
ringing off her pony, "they're c
ill the whole house seemed to be running over with those first and most exquisite prairie spring-flowers. And for many foll