All Incident Of Colorado Travel

From the Denver Colorado Tribune. The car door opened, there waB a rattle and a rustle upou the platform outside - and 8he carue stumbling in. At the same instant there came in with her a ruddycheeked, blue-eyed boy, whose years were not counted above 10. " She carried in her aruis a bundie closely and carefully wrapped, at one end of which a tiny face appeared, a diminutive copy of her own.- Carefully placing this bundie upon a seat she neit dragged in a box and basket, and the strong odor of bilge water, such aa ever pervades the steerage or between decks of the emigiant vessel, announced to the indifferently intereated passengere that uiy fellow passenger was an emigrant. She was not more than 30, she was fair and appeared as strange and timid as the antelope we saw from the car Windows gliding over the plains. But no one spoke to her, no one presumed to claim acquaintance with thia travel-soiled, weary looking young woman, and as ahe sat upon the next aeat to my own gazing wearily out upon the wide, bleak monotony of the plains, I observed several times dur ing the day that her large blue eyes filled with tears, and that the little boy in Scotch cap, kneo breeches and black hose busied himself in a vain attempt to comfort his " mother." All this I observed from behind my book, which book proved a medium oí coinmunication Detween my fejlow passenger and inyself. She had been looking at the back of my book attentively for some time, when she broke thfi sileuce by saying : " I beg pardon, sir, but can you teil me when we shall arrive (looking at an envelope) nt Bijou Station V" " To-morrow evening sometime, if all goes well," I replied. " Is the country out there as wild and sparsely settled as this, sir'r" " Yes, madam, er more so. It depende very much upon the portion of the Bijou you go to." Th ice being broken between myself and my fel lo w-passenger, she soon feil a victim to a professional American newspaper interviewer to whom she told her story. But this story would have but httle interest for the general reader, were it not for the sequel, which is herewith given. I will give her story as near as possible, in her own words : " Yes, sir, I am from England. I left thero three weeks ago. I observed you reading Dickens, and I took the liberty of speakiug to you. Do I admire DickenB V Yes, sir, I loved him. I am a relative of his, and have oft-times visited him at hiu place at Gad's HUI. I am from Gloster. Do you know Gloster ' It is a dear old town. We lived just within the shadow of that great cathedral, (a sighV Oh, the dear old' town. I expect we will never meet again. It is a great old struoture, sir. You can read all about it in Uncle Charles' last book, " The Mystery of Edwin Drood." He describes our town just as it is. We all loved Mr. Diokens. I walked with him many time in the grand old structure, for he made our hoine his home wben he canie to Gloster. He only lived 10 miles away, and frequently catne to see us while he he was working upon his last book. I observed you reading one of his works, and I made so free as to speak, tor I ain oh! so very lonesome and strange here! Did I come all the way alone, sir V Yes, sir. But it was wrong in me to attempt it. I think sometimes I shall give up before I reach my husband. But Charles is quite a man to me. You have no idea, eir, how clever and kind my little son has been to me. both on the voyage and at Halifox, at Baltimore and Cincinnati.- How do I like the States, did you say ? Oh, sir, I dan't like them at all ! I like the State of Cincinnati the best of any I have been in. I stopped at Halifax. It ig a dull, cold, miserable place. They kept us three days at Baltimore to discharge cargo. At Ciucinnati my luggage was 8inashed, and I had to purchase deal boxea to pack in. They charged me a sovereign for them. 1 was detained one day at St. Louis- u nasty, glooniy, Bmoky place, is it not, sir 't At Leavenworth they refused to take my English gold for my hotel bill, and I was in great trouble and distress. Did I get my luggage all right 'i Yes, sir. There is 900 pounds of it. Why did I bring so uiuch, did you say ? Why, sir, my husband wrote me that he had got a perfect little Eden of a place in Colorado. Yes, sir, he calla our new home Eden, and I thought I would bring as many of the old things trom home as possible and I brought a box of tea, a barrel of sugar, several bolts of long cloth, some boots and clothing, and at least a hundred different kinds of garden seeds. We will be so happy when I get home. But, sir, (crying) I really think I never will reach "home again. Three weeks of travel all alone has nearly cost me my life. Whitismy husband doing in Colorado, did you say, sir Y He is sheep farming.- He was a tailor and gentleman 's furnisher in Gloster. We lived in one house for 19 years ; my father kept tho business before I married ray husband. We were áoing very well and getting rich, but my husband, who had been a stiilor when a boy, and who was bom in Brazil, was was always discontented and wanted to travel. In an evil hour I consented to sell out our business in Gloster. He look L5,000 with him and started to Colorado. His letters which he wrote from Colorado were very interesting ; they wëre printed in our county paper at home. Oh, sir, if you only could know how tired I aiu of traveling, how lonesome I feel here upon these plains so many thousands of miles from my dear old home, you would realize how anxious I am to meet my husband. The sun and the train rolled on westward, and toward evening on the second day out from Kansas City came in sight of Bijou. My fellow passenger was all bustle and excitement ; she had been half a dozen times to the glass to adjust her hair and apparel. The beautiful little boy in his Scotch, cap, blue jacket, and blóck stockings had had his golden locks freshly curled, his rosy cheeks wasbed, and stood upon the car seat looking out of the window- looking for "Father." " Oh, mother, I think I see father," said Charlty. " O no, mother, it is some one else. Oh I see a coffin mother, some person is dead, they are taking the coffin out of a wagon, mother. There it is mother ; there we are past it now. Now we shall see father, we are home." The train stopped. The weary, travel-soiled niece of Charles Dickens gathered up her parcela and her cloaks, and stepped out upon 1he wild, bleak spot called Bijou Station. The passengers, all interested in the talkative and unsophisticated pair of travelelers, crowded to the windows of the car to witness the expected meeting between husband and wife. They saw it. While her baggage was being tumbled out of the car she stood with her baby in her arms, and her boy by her side gazing around upon the strange scène, and peering eagerly among the rough-clad ranchraen and plainsmen for the face, which alone of all others she wished to see. A rough -looking but polite ranchman stepped forward. and, with a clumsy bow and bashful manner, inquired who the " Madam desired to see." " I want my husband, Mr. Henry Loster. Does he not keep a sheep and cattle farm near here r" " He did, madam," answered the ranchg man sadlv: "but he's rounded up his herd for the last time. There he is in that coffin, died last Weduesday night, and we're sending the body to Denver, ac cordin' to his last instructions. He died of congestión of the bowels, madam. Beg pardon, madam, but are you his " He did not finish his sentence, but stepped forward to catch the falling form of my fellow-traveler, who was carried to the car in a swoon. The little boy uttered a piteous wail of grief, while I led him sobbing back to the car which this wearied and travel-tired pair had left a minute before so hopeful and so happy. There were many wet eyes in that car just then, mine among the rest, as I held the beautiful boy sobbing to my breast. I saw my fellow-traveler twice again, once when she followed her husband to his last resting-place, attended by one solitary carriage and four mourners, and again last Monday morning, when, pale, sad, and bowed with grief, she started with her fair-haired boy upon her long journey back to the quiet shade and seclusion of her old home within the shadows of Gloster Cathedral.