Page:The Granite Monthly Volume 6.djvu/132

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ii4

��THE GRANITE MONTHLY.

��than any uninhabited habitation I have ever struck."

" How so ! " I inquired.

"Why it has all the appurtenances of a well regulated Fifth Avenue. There is an old fashioned fire-place with cranes and hooks in it, and there are grand sleeping apartments in which there is an abundance of clean straw. I tell you what, William, there is a good natural man about here some- where." Having obtained the fish which I had prepared for the fry-pan, he made haste to retrace his steps.

While the frugal meal was being cooked, I intuitively wandered about the premises with an idea of obtaining a clue to the latitude and longitude of the place and a knowledge of our neighbors. I learned nothing of either, and naturally enough, for strange fancies, not to say presentments, will come to the mind when softened by solitude, I began to wonder concerning the for- mer occupants of this deserted dwell- ing house, and to conjure strange fan- cies about their history.

"Who shall tell me," this was the interrogatory of my mind, "of the man and woman who builded a home hers?"

Here was food for thought ; here was a wide field for romantic gleaning. They doubtless came to this sequester- ed spot when young in years and hope- ful of future prosperity and happiness. They probably had joys, sorrows, bless- ings, misfortunes, and a hard struggle w ith the world, like all men and women before and since their time. Children may have been born to them, and these paths, now almost obscure with bushes and weeds, have echoed the merry tread of their feet, and these woods the songs of their happy voices. The remorseless angel of death, too, may have discovered this Arcadia, and from yonder portals the last of a once happy home circle may have been borne to the grave by kind neighbors and friends. Who shall tell me ?

The picture that came to my mind was sad in its grouping, and I was about to give myself over to the most

��melancholy meditations, when I was aroused by John and notified that he was ready to serve refreshments. The inner man was quickly satisfied, and then, after a general clearing up and making ready for the night, in which it was my duty to assist, we strolled upon the beach, smoked our Havanas and chatted about the friends at home. A few minutes passed pleasantly, and we were about to turn in for the night, when there was a sudden and startling rustle in the path behind me, and a pleasant voice said : —

"Hullo strangers !"

"Hullo yourself!" I replied in trembling voice, for I freely admit I was a good deal frightened.

The new comer was a man of seventy, or thereabouts, tall, muscular, and slow of speech and motion. Every thing about him assured us that he was a good man, and inspired our confidence. In fact a glance gave us as true an in- sight into his character as forty years of acquaintance. He was — for I am sure I can sketch his character and characteristics, — a man who had no ro- mance in his composition. With him "life was real, life was earnest." He was sternly religious ; he was a tiller of the soil ; he was well-to-do ; he was social after a matter-of-fact fashion ; he was obliging ; he believed it a sacred duty to provide shelter and food for a stranger ; he was a man of probity, of more than ordinary educa- tion, and his face was set against all rascality, exorbitant demands and uncharitableness. He was, by the way, clothed in home-spun, coatless, bare- armed, and upon his head was a straw hat that had seen city service, by which we inferred that he had relatives in the " down country."

"Do you belong around here !" he inquired.

I replied that we did not, and sug- gested that I presumed he did.

"The house on the hill, just beyond the wood-lot, is mine," he remarked. " You see I discovered the smoke ris- ing from the chimney of the old house, and so as soon as I got my chores

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