Though never exculpated from offence, Time brought conditional deliverance; A writ of amnesty, the Czar's decree, Within its gracious scope included me. Released at last by ukase absolute, But famished, homeless, sick and destitute. What followed would be tedious to recite, The sequel, but the incidents of flight. Alone, an outcast from my native hearth, An aimless wanderer upon the earth, Blown as the desert shifts a grain of sand, Borne by each wanton gale, from land to land. A keen observer of the play of life, Withal a nether factor in its strife. Watching existence as a game of chess, Where love, hate, smile, tear, insult and caress Hold us by turns in various forms of check; Some sort of yoke is worn by every neck. Kings, queens and knights, exalted castles see, Undone by pawns and powers of base degree. Positions gained at a tremendous cost, By one false move may be forever lost; Each studied movement, each strategic course, Is shaped by contact with opposing force, And moves which seem fortuitous and blind Are often those most cunningly designed. In devious ways we may not understand, Our steps are ordered by an Unseen Hand. Proud queens, subservient pawns, with varied rôle, Are vain components of the wondrous whole; Life's pantomime, in figures complicate; Men are but puppets on the wires of fate. * * * * * My native land, henceforth no longer mine, My footsteps, seeking an adopted shrine, Have found a home, within the mountain West, Where Truth may preach her gospel unsuppressed." * * * * * * * * * * All eyes were now on Russian Pete, Who quietly resumed his seat. At the conclusion of his tale The wind had risen to a gale, And mourned as though in sympathy With human woe and misery. Or as the winds, for some offence To man, or his creations done, Now wailed a frenzied penitence In anguish-laden orison. The elements petitioning The pardon of their stormy king, E'en as the supplicating cries Might from the damned in torment rise, And cleave the palpitating air With hopeless accents of despair. * * * * * As Uncle Jim stirred up the fire With observation taciturn, All watched the crackling hemlock burn Till some one called for Dad McGuire. IV. A SEQUEL OF THE LOST CAUSE