ince. The little creek,
the long trail, the deep woods, the dug-out, and the salt pork barrel
loomed up occasionally before his mind's eye. In absent-minded dreams he
would find himself wandering among the stock on the range at his old
ranch; or he would be drinking water from the creek in the
old-fashioned, natural way; or chasing a deer at the other end of the
long trail. His wife's sweet voice would recall him to the immediate,
and in her presence he would regret his meditations. But it would be but
temporary. What profits a man to gain the world, if he lose his peace of
mind? "What! I unhappy among all this kingly paraphernalia, and with a
queen wife?" he would ask himself, going down into the basement to
replenish the furnace. With every shovelful of coal he would curse
himself for his feebleness of mind.

The charm was beginning to wear off. The sound of the singing creek and
the wild wood noises were beginning to knock at his door. He was
beginning to long for the old, wild life--the life of the wild man of
the woods. He was like a coyote in confinement, walking backward and
forward at the bars seeking release. He was a fish out of water gasping
for its natural element, and his soul was languishing within him.

He made desperate but vain efforts to enjoy his beautiful environs, and
for a long time he sustained the "bluff." The piano became a bore to
him; its music was not half so sweet as the creek song. The tapestry was
not half so pleasing to the eye as the green foliage of the trees had
been; his cement walk not so agreeable to his feet as had been the long,
wild trail. The "icties" which had cost him thousands of dollars became
to him like so much junk, and his beautiful home became a prison--so
much does man become attached to mother earth. Among all this junk one
jewel still continued persistently to shine, however, and that gem was
his wife; she was all he had left, next his heart, to balance against
the thousands of dollars which he had squandered. A man's best comfort
is his wife, and Hance had fallen into the trap in the usual man-like
way.

His attraction for the modern in society had dwindled down to a single
item--his love for his wife; and between this fire, and the fire of the
old life, he remained poised. Of course it would be madness to suggest
that she return with him to the woods and adopt the Adam and Eve mode of
society, so he kept his skeleton securely locked up.

He had sold his farm fo