I Felt Like A
Servant Going Out For A Day's "Pleasuring," Hurrying "Through My
Dishes," And Leaving My Room In Disorder.
The wagon lay half-way
down the side of a ravine, kept from destruction by having caught
on some
Trees.
It was too cold to hang about while the men hauled it up and
fixed it, so I went slowly back, encountering Mr. Nugent in a
most bitter mood - almost in an "ugly fit" - hating everybody, and
contrasting his own generosity and reckless kindness with the
selfishness and carefully-weighed kindnesses of others. People
do give him credit for having "as kind a heart as ever beat."
Lately a child in the other cabin was taken ill, and though there
were idle men and horses at hand, it was only the "desperado" who
rode sixty miles in "the shortest time ever made" to bring the
doctor. While we were talking he was sitting on a stone outside
his den mending a saddle, shins, bones, and skulls lying about
him, "Ring" watching him with jealous and idolatrous affection,
the wind lifting his thin curls from as grand a head as was ever
modeled - a ruin of a man. Yet the sun which shines "on the evil
and the good" was lighting up the gold of his hair. May our
Father which is in heaven yet show mercy to His outcast child!
Mr. Kavan soon overtook me, and we had an exciting race of two
miles, getting home just before the wind fell and the snow began.
Thanksgiving Day.
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