THE　PRIESLTY　PREROGATIVE。
  THIS　IS　THE　STORY　OF　A　MAN　who　did　not　appreciate　his　wife；　also；　of
  a　woman　who　did　him　too　great　an　honor　when　she　gave　herself　to　him。
  Incidentally；　it　concerns　a　Jesuit　priest　who　had　never　been　known
  to　lie。　He　was　an　appurtenance；　and　a　very　necessary　one；　to　the　Yukon
  country；　but　the　presence　of　the　other　two　was　merely　accidental。　They
  were　specimens　of　the　many　strange　waifs　which　ride　the　breast　of　a
  gold　rush　or　come　tailing　along　behind。
  Edwin　Bentham　and　Grace　Bentham　were　waifs；　they　were　also　tailing
  along　behind；　for　the　Klondike　rush　of　'97　had　long　since　swept　down
  the　great　river　and　subsided　into　the　famine…stricken　city　of
  Dawson。　When　the　Yukon　shut　up　shop　and　went　to　sleep　under　a
  three…foot　ice…sheet；　this　peripatetic　couple　found　themselves　at
  the　Five　Finger　Rapids；　with　the　City　of　Gold　still　a　journey　of
  many　sleeps　to　the　north。
  Many　cattle　had　been　butchered　at　this　place　in　the　fall　of　the
  year；　and　the　offal　made　a　goodly　heap。　The　three　fellow…voyagers　of
  Edwin　Bentham　and　wife　gazed　upon　this　deposit；　did　a　little　mental
  arithmetic；　caught　a　certain　glimpse　of　a　bonanza；　and　decided　to
  remain。　And　all　winter　they　sold　sacks　of　bones　and　frozen　hides　to
  the　famished　dog…teams。　It　was　a　modest　price　they　asked；　a　dollar　a
  pound；　just　as　it　came。　Six　months　later；　when　the　sun　came　back　and
  the　Yukon　awoke；　they　buckled　on　their　heavy　moneybelts　and
  journeyed　back　to　the　Southland；　where　they　yet　live　and　lie
  mightily　about　the　Klondike　they　never　saw。
  But　Edwin　Bentham…　he　was　an　indolent　fellow；　and　had　he　not　been
  possessed　of　a　wife；　would　have　gladly　joined　issued　in　the　dog…meat
  speculation。　As　it　was；　she　played　upon　his　vanity；　told　him　how　great
  and　strong　he　was；　how　a　man　such　as　he　certainly　was　could　overcome
  all　obstacles　and　of　a　surety　obtain　the　Golden　Fleece。　So　he
  squared　his　jaw；　sold　his　share　in　the　bones　and　hides　for　a　sled
  and　one　dog；　and　turned　his　snowshoes　to　the　north。　Needless　to　state；
  Grace　Bentham's　snowshoes　never　allowed　his　tracks　to　grow　cold。
  Nay；　ere　their　tribulations　had　seen　three　days；　it　was　the　man　who
  followed　in　the　rear；　and　the　woman　who　broke　trail　in　advance。　Of
  course；　if　anybody　hove　in　sight；　the　position　was　instantly　reversed。
  Thus　did　his　manhood　remain　virgin　to　the　travelers　who　passed　like
  ghosts　on　the　silent　trail。　There　are　such　men　in　this　world。
  How　such　a　man　and　such　a　woman　came　to　take　each　other　for　better
  and　for　worse　is　unimportant　to　this　narrative。　These　things　are
  familiar　to　us　all；　and　those　people　who　do　them；　or　even　question
  them　too　closely；　are　apt　to　lose　a　beautiful　faith　which　is　known
  as　Eternal　Fitness。
  Edwin　Bentham　was　a　boy；　thrust　by　mischance　into　a　man's　body；…　a
  boy　who　could　complacently　pluck　a　butterfly；　wing　from　wing；　or　cower
  in　abject　terror　before　a　lean；　nervy　fellow；　not　half　his　size。　He
  was　a　selfish　cry…baby；　hidden　behind　a　man's　mustache　and　stature；
  and　glossed　over　with　a　skin…deep　veneer　of　culture　and
  conventionality。　Yes；　he　was　a　clubman　and　a　society　man；…　the　sort
  that　grace　social　functions　and　utter　inanities　with　a　charm　and
  unction　which　is　indescribable；　the　sort　that　talk　big；　and　cry　over　a
  toothache；　the　sort　that　put　more　hell　into　a　woman's　life　by　marrying
  her　than　can　the　most　graceless　libertine　that　ever　browsed　in
  forbidden　pastures。　We　meet　these　men　every　day；　but　we　rarely　know
  them　for　what　they　are。　Second　to　marrying　them；　the　best　way　to　get
  this　knowledge　is　to　eat　out　of　the　same　pot　and　crawl　under　the
  same　blanket　with　them　for…　well；　say　a　week；　no　greater　margin　is
  necessary。
  To　see　Grace　Bentham；　was　to　see　a　slender；　girlish　creature；　to
  know　her；　was　to　know　a　soul　which　dwarfed　your　own；　yet　retained
  all　the　elements　of　the　eternal　feminine。　This　was　the　woman　who　urged
  and　encouraged　her　husband　in　his　Northland　quest；　who　broke　trail　for
  him　when　no　one　was　looking；　and　cried　in　secret　over　her　weakling
  woman's　body。
  So　journeyed　this　strangely　assorted　couple　down　to　old　Fort
  Selkirk；　then　through　fivescore　miles　of　dismal　wilderness　to　Stuart
  River。　And　when　the　short　day　left　them；　and　the　man　lay　down　in　the
  snow　and　blubbered；　it　was　the　woman　who　lashed　him　to　the　sled；　bit
  her　lips　with　the　pain　of　her　aching　limbs；　and　helped　the　dog　haul
  him　to　Malemute　Kid's　cabin。　Malemute　Kid　was　not　at　home；　but　Meyers；
  the　German　trader；　cooked　great　moose…steaks　and　shook　up　a　bed　of
  fresh　pine　boughs。
  Lake；　Langham；　and　Parker；　were　excited；　and　not　unduly　so　when
  the　cause　was　taken　into　account。
  'Oh；　Sandy！　Say；　can　you　tell　a　porterhouse　from　a　round？　Come　out
  and　lend　us　a　hand；　anyway！'　This　appeal　emanated　from　the　cache；
  where　Langham　was　vainly　struggling　with　divers　quarters　of　frozen
  moose。
  'Don't　you　budge　from　those　dishes！'　commanded　Parker。
  'I　say；　Sandy；　there's　a　good　fellow…　just　run　down　to　the
  Missouri　Camp　and　borrow　some　cinnamon；'　begged　Lake。
  'Oh！　oh！　hurry　up！　Why　don't…'　But　the　crash　of　meat　and　boxes；　in
  the　cache；　abruptly　quenched　this　peremptory　summons。
  'Come　now；　Sandy；　it　won't　take　a　minute　to　go　down　to
  the　Missouri…'
  'You　leave　him　alone；'　interrupted　Parker。　'How　am　I　to　mix　the
  biscuits　if　the　table　isn't　cleared　off？'
  Sandy　paused　in　indecision；　till　suddenly　the　fact　that　he　was
  Langham's　'man'　dawned　upon　him。　Then　he　apologetically　threw　down　the
  greasy　dishcloth；　and　went　to　his　master's　rescue。
  These　promising　scions　of　wealthy　progenitors　had　come　to　the
  Northland　in　search　of　laurels；　with　much　money　to　burn；　and　a　'man'
  apiece。　Luckily　for　their　souls；　the　other　two　men　were　up　the　White
  River　in　search　of　a　mythical　quartz…ledge；　so　Sandy　had　to　grin　under
  the　responsibility　of　three　healthy　masters；　each　of　whom　was
  possessed　of　peculiar　cookery　ideas。　Twice　that　morning　had　a
  disruption　of　the　whole　camp　been　imminent；　only　averted　by　immense
  concessions　from　one　or　the　other　of　these　knights　of　the
  chafing…dish。　But　at　last　their　mutual　creation；　a　really　dainty
  dinner；　was　completed。　Then　they　sat　down　to　a　three…cornered　game
  of　'cut…throat；'…　a　proceeding　which　did　away　with　all　casus　belli　for
  future　hostilities；　and　permitted　the　victor　to　depart　on　a　most
  important　mission。
  This　fortune　fell　to　Parker；　who　parted　his　hair　in　the　middle；
  put　on　his　mittens　and　bearskin　cap；　and　stepped　over　to　Malemute
  Kid's　cabin。　And　when　he　returned；　it　was　in　the　company　of　Grace
  Bentham　and　Malemute　Kid；…　the　former　very　sorry　her　husband　could　not
  share　with　her　their　hospitality；　for　he　had　gone　up　to　look　at　the
  Henderson　Creek　mines；　and　the　latter　still　a　trifle　stiff　from
  breaking　trail　down　the　Stuart　River。　Meyers　had　been　asked；　but　had
  declined；　being　deeply　engrossed　in　an　experiment　of　raising　bread
  from　hops。
  Well；　they　could　do　without　the　husband；　but　a　woman…　why　they　had
  not　seen　one　all　winter；　and　the　presence　of　this　one　promised　a　new
  era　in　their　lives。　They　were　college　men　and　gentlemen；　these　three
  young　fellows；　yearning　for　the　flesh…pots　they　had　been　so　long
  denied。　Probably　Grace　Bentham　suffered　from　a　similar　hunger；　at
  least；　it　meant　much　to　her；　the　first　bright　hour　in　many　weeks　of
  darkness。
  But　that　wonderful　first　course；　which　claimed　the　versatile　Lake
  for　its　parent；　had　no　sooner　been　served　than　there　came　a　loud　knock
  at　the　door。
  'Oh！　Ah！　Won't　you　come　in；　Mr。　Bentham？'　said　Parker；　who　had
  stepped　to　see　who　the　newcomer　might　be。
  'Is　my　wife　here？'　gruffly　responded　that　worthy。
  'Why；　yes。　We　left　word　with　Mr。　Meyers。'　Parker　was　exerting　his
  most　dulcet　tones；　inwardly　wondering　what　the　deuce　it　all　meant。
  'Won't　you　come　in？　Expecting　you　at　any　moment；　we　reserved　a
  place。　And　just　in　time　for　the　first　course；　too。'
  'Come　in；　Edwin；　dear；'　chirped　Grace　Bentham　from　her　seat　at　the
  table。
  Parker　naturally　stood　aside。
  'I　want　my　wife；'　reiterated　Bentham　hoarsely；　the　intonation
  savoring　disagreeably　of　ownership。
  Parker　gasped；　was　within　an　ace　of　driving　his　fist　into　the　face
  of　his　boorish　visitor；　but　held　himself　awkwardly　in　check。　Everybody
  rose。　Lake　lost　his　head　and　caught　himself　on　the　verge　of　saying；
  'Must　you　go？'
  Then　began　the　farrago　of　leave…taking。　'So　nice　of　you…'　'I　am
  awfully　sorry…'　'By　Jove！　how　things　did　brighten…'　'Really　now；　you…'
  'Thank　you　ever　so　much…'　'Nice　trip　to　Dawson…'　etc。；　etc。
  In　this　wise　the　lamb　was　helped　into　her　jacket　and　led　to　the
  slaughter。　Then　the　door　slammed；　and　they　gazed　woefully　upon　the
  deserted　table。
  'Damn！'　Langham　had　suffered　disadvantages　in　his　early　training；
  and　his　oaths　were　weak　and　monotonous。　'Damn！'　he　repeated；　vaguely
  conscious　of　the　incompleteness　and　vainly　struggling　for　a　more
  virile　term。
  It　is　a　clever　woman　wh