y, the
judge sent me to her to tell her the whole story. So I dressed myself
and drove down--for, though still under thirty, I was well off, and
drove my own span--and told her of my interview with her father, on his
deathbed, as well as of the scene on the night he hid the will.

As I told the latter part of the story a reverent, loving,
self-forgetful look came into her face, and made her seem to me like an
angel. As for myself, the recalling of the incident, now that I knew its
sequel, prevented my keeping my eyes dry. I felt a little ashamed of
myself and hurried away, but her look while I spoke of her father, and
her trembling form in my arms while Mrs. Markson raved at her, were
constantly in my mind, and muddled a great many important estimates.
They finally troubled me so that I drove down again and had a long and
serious talk with Helen.

What we said, though perfectly proper and sensible, might not be
interesting in print, so I omit it. I will say, however, that my
longing--when I first saw Helen as a little girl--for a daughter just
like her, has been fulfilled so exactly, that I have named her Helen
Markson Raines, after her mother; and if she is not as much comfort to
me as I supposed she would be, it is no fault of hers, but rather
because the love of her mother makes me, twenty years after the
incidents of this story occurred, so constantly happy, that I need the
affection of no one else.

[Illustration]

GRUMP'S PET.

On a certain day in November, 1850, there meandered into the new mining
camp of Painter Bar, State of California, an individual who was
instantly pronounced, all voices concurring, the ugliest man in the
camp. The adjective ugly was applied to the man's physiognomy alone; but
time soon gave the word, as applied to him, a far wider significance. In
fact, the word was not at all equal to the requirements made of it, and
this was probably what influenced the prefixing of numerous adjectives,
sacred and profane, to this little word of four letters.

The individual in question stated that he came from "no whar in
pu'tiklar," and the savage, furtive glance that shot from his hyena-like
eyes seemed to plainly indicate why the land of his origin was so
indefinitely located. A badly broken nose failed to soften the
expression of his eyes, a long, prominent, dull-red scar divided one of
his cheeks, his mustache was not heavy enough to hide a hideous
hare-lip; while a ragged beard, and