Produced by Geetu Melwani, Annie McGuire, Stephen Hope and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) +------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note | |Spelling, punctuation and inconsistencies | |in the original book have been retained. | +------------------------------------------+ [Illustration: Book Cover] THE WIZARD'S DAUGHTER AND OTHER STORIES Margaret Collier Graham By Margaret Collier Graham THE WIZARD'S DAUGHTER AND OTHER STORIES. 12mo, $1.25 STORIES OF THE FOOT-HILLS. 16mo, $1.25 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & COMPANY BOSTON AND NEW YORK The Wizard's Daughter And Other Stories By Margaret Collier Graham BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY The Riverside Press, Cambridge 1905 COPYRIGHT 1905 BY MARGARET COLLIER GRAHAM ALL RIGHTS RESERVED _Published September 1905_ CONTENTS PAGE The Wizard's Daughter 1 Marg'et Ann 67 At the Foot of the Trail 133 Lib 169 For Value Received 181 The Face of the Poor 205 The Wizard's Daughter There had been a norther during the day, and at sunset the valley, seen from Dysart's cabin on the mesa, was a soft blur of golden haze. The wind had hurled the yellow leaves from the vineyard, exposing the gnarled deformity of the vines, and the trailing branches of the pepper-trees had swept their fallen berries into coral reefs on the southerly side. A young man with a delicate, discontented face sat on the porch of the Dysart claim cabin, looking out over the valley. A last gust of lukewarm air strewed the floor with scythe-shaped eucalyptus-leaves, and Mrs. Dysart came out with her broom to sweep them away. She was a large woman, with a crease at her waist that buried her apron-strings, and the little piazza creaked ominously as she walked about. The invalid got up with a man's instinctive distrust of a broom, and began to move away. "Don't disturb yourself, Mr. Palmerston," she said, waving him back into his chair with one hand, and speaking in a large, level voice, as if she were quelling a mob,--"don't disturb yourself; I won't raise any dust. Does the north wind choke you up much?" "Oh, no," answered the young fellow, carelessly; "it was a rather more rapid change of air than I bargained for, but I guess it's over now." "Sick folks generally think the north wind makes them nervous. Some of them say it's the electricity; but I think it's because most of 'em's men-folks, and being away from their families, they naturally blame things on the weather."