so monotonously,
and had so little to distinguish them one from another, that he had
kept no account of them, and had no idea that it was so near. Some
indefinable influence that he could not account for had of late sent his
mind groping into old and better channels, and consequently when he was
reminded of the presence of Christmas he felt disposed to accord it a
measure of consideration rather different from that with which several
of its predecessors had met. Like Old Platte, he had regarded it as a
good day to go on a "bust" and initiate a "drunk" of more or less
duration, but just now he seemed as if inclined to take a different view
of it. His eyes could take a clearer and healthier view of the past than
he had for a long time had, and its old memories and scenes flocked up
before him now, bright through the dim mist that time had cast over
them, and fresher and sweeter than ever by contrast with the gloomy
present. The snow-shoes slid from his lap and one by one the thongs of
buckskins dropped upon the floor, as he leaned back in the corner of the
broad chimney, his face resting upon his sinewy hand and his eyes
looking through the fire into the world of the past.

Old Platte lay curled up in his bearskins and blankets fast asleep, but
the other still sat by the fire in the same position--still dreamily
thinking. How long he had sat there he did not know. The fire had sunk
into a glowing heap of coals, fast changing into soft white ashes, on
which now and then a melting snow-flake that had stolen down through the
chimney would fall and disappear with a short angry sizz, and the
shadows in the cabin were deep and dark. Suddenly it seemed to him in
his dreaming that a voice called him by name, and he awoke from his
reverie with a chill and a shudder and a sense of indefinable dread
creeping over him--a dread of what, he could not tell. A handful of
chips blazed up brightly and lit up the cabin with their flickering
light as he turned nervously toward the patient, quiet face behind him.
The eyes, shaded by the long black eyelashes, were still on the fire,
and while he was confident that he had not been called, he was dimly
conscious of a great change that had taken place. As he still looked
anxiously at the faded features, the eyes left their long watching of
the embers and were raised to meet his. He felt he was wanted, and was
by his side in a moment: "How d'yer feel, old man?"

Gentleman Dick smiled as he laid