I'd hold it onworthy not to look forward an' to hope.

I'm wantin' peace an' quiet now, with grandchildren around me in my old age....

So ride along to Kremmlin' an' hurry home." * * * * * The evening of the day Columbine came home to White Slides the bride of Wilson Moore she slipped away from the simple festivities in her honor and climbed to the aspen grove on the hill to spend a little while beside the grave of her father.
The afterglow of sunset burned dull gold and rose in the western sky, rendering glorious the veil of purple over the ranges.

Down in the lowlands twilight had come, softly gray.

The owls were hooting; a coyote barked; from far away floated the mourn of a wolf.
Under the aspens it was silent and lonely and sad.