The Argosy, Volume XXIV — page 9: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Gabriel’s Appointment. 5 ‘So Mr. Bruce says: but the wise Erasmus does not agree with him. His Leatherstocking genius cannot admit the possibility of making such a blunder. He thinks—but you must not repeat this, Grace.” ‘Certainly not, Miss Kerr.” ‘Well, he thinks that mischief was intended—as some one really does follow them about. I’ve seen him myself.” ““My dear!” exclaimed Grace, startled out of her propriety. “What is he like?” “That I cannot tell you, for they said he was disguised; but I remember his cough, for I heard it one night at the Mission Chapel. I only wish he would drop his remedy at my door, and then I might hope for some sleep !” Alice did get some sleep, however, in the course of the day, without the chloroform, and was sufficiently relieved to accept a visit from Myra. ‘That young lady, who had been with difficulty kept out of her room till then, entered big with mystery and importance, and having closed the door with her finger on her lips, took a seat opposite Alice with a whisper. ‘I want to show’ you my gold.” The fragment of a smile, which was all Alice could do, being taken for assent, Myra produced an Indian casket of sandal-wood and silver, unlocked it with due solemnity, and took out, one by one, about a dozen coins of different countries ; expatiating, as she did so, on the value of each, and the possibility that some day they might be worth a great deal more. Papa always sent her one on her birth- day ; it was so much better to have gold than anything else. And her eyes, as she gazed at her hoard, showed how firmly she believed what she said. | The artist-spirit began to stir in spite of the aching nerve ; Alice’s first impression that so heavy-looking a child would never make a pitture, was at once removed. ‘That strange effect of “ gold’s sacred hunger” in a young and rather plain face had a powerful fascination ; pain and weariness were for the moment forgotten ; her picture danced before her eyes—she only longed to begin. “Vou are thinking of something,” said Myra, suddenly, as she became aware of the gaze which was learning her features by heart. ‘Have you any gold to show me of your own?” “My art is my gold,” said Alice. ‘I earn it by drawing, and then the gold comes.” ‘‘T wish I could earn it too. JI did find some once, under an apple-tree.- Look here!” and she showed Martin’s nugget on her chain, “I dug that up, my own self; and when those nice men come again, I mean to dig up some more. I'll show you where, if you promise not to dig too.” Alice promised readily ; saying she had heard enough about gold- digging to prevent her ever wishing for a share. ‘Oh, then you can tell me all about it, can’t you? I tried to read some of the books, but they are too stupid.” comicbooks.com