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The Prospector

Chapter 8 THE OLD PROSPECTOR

Word Count: 2972    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

eaks that stood further back, and the other lapping the grasses and reeds that edged its waters and joined it to the prairie. A gentle breeze now and then breathed across

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

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