Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1855-02-22

most wicked grin, showing one worn yellow
stump Of tooth.
:" Good evening, Mother Ward" said voice
at her elbow.
She turned and saw just at her side little
old man dressed in black A quick old fellow
he seemed, as, without being asked, he drew the
other OF the tive rush-bottomed chairs--all the
seats the room contained-up to the fire.
who are you' What do you want asked
old Sue, as soon as she had little recovered
from her astonishment at this sudden Interrupt
ton.
" A poor cold traveller who wishes to warm
himself at your fire." replied he, just gancing
at her with bis keen black eye. Oh it was the
wickedsst eye you ever saw, SO full of malice
and deviltry, SO glittering and snake-like.
-" You are welcome to the little warmth
wretched old woman's fire can give. But you
have not told me your name, though Fought TO
know it, as you seem to know mine"
8" 60 under different names," replied he
&C the most familiar with me, call me by nick
name, but my proper title is Besl 2. Babb.-
But why do you call yourself wrstched!"
9" Have you not lived long enough in the world
to know 7" replied she almost fercsly. There
are grey hairs on your brow, and the wrinkles
on your face will number almost as many as
mine. Is it not always wretchsd to be old
But perhaps you have warm friends who cheer
you with their presence and sustain you by
their love 90
She paused moment, as if waiting for re-
ply. But the old man sat with his elbows rest
ing on his knees, looking steadfasty into the FIRE
with his cunning eyes. The old weman contin-
ued-
Perhaps you do not know what it is to out
live all the friends of your youth, to wander
away among strangers, and to be Stunned and
despised by them, to be treated and hooted at as
witch, as one who has dealings with the devil,
when know no more of the devil than you
do"
ENoo poiuupc ac muV1, ediu H6, Ill du uu
dertone. She went on, not needing him.
You may not have felt all the wickednsss of
your soul rise up against your prosecutors,
prompting you to curse them as have cursed
them time and again and curse them now. Oh,
the good Christian souls who pretend to be SO
pious and holy, who roll up their eyes at the
very sight of me should not wonder if some
of them had more dealings with Satan than my
self"
mo doubt of it," rejoined the old man.
Old Sue went on, feeling strange thrilling
pleasure in telling her wicked thoughts to the
one at her side, whose eyes cleaned brighter,
and looked more evil, the more wicked she grew
"And was thinking what mockery it
would be for me to say the Lords Prayer. Our
Father -
The old man gave an uneasy start as she said
these words, yct remained quiet, Is she repeated
no more but, shifting her skinny hands togeth-
er, exclaimed
Why should call him my Father Has
he treated me as child Has he not left me
here in nv old age, to rags, and poverty, and
abuse, when he might have taken me to his
blessed home beyond the skies long before this !
Death would long ago have been welcome to
me-.
why do you not kill yourself, then!' ask
the old man softly.
81 was thinking of that just as you came in.
But it is an ugly, horrible business to take one
own life. If there were only some easier way
to rid ones self of the world Did you ever
hear" continued she, speaking in low. conf
Dental tone, 'dd you ever hear of any old wom-
en- that dried up and blew away!''
The eunning-eyed one for a while spoke not u
word. He sat there still and quiet, looking fix
edly into the fire. But he all at once burst out
with wild stave of song. The words SO
wrought upon the imagination of mother Ward
that-shs knew net why-she began to stamp
her feet in accompaniment, and when he came
to the chorus, she joined her shrll treble to his
cracked bass, and the strange melody rang out
clear and piercingly:
Q walked me out the other night,
The wind was blowing high;
claspsd my cloak about me tight,
And wished that might de-
1 CHoRus.--O for those rare, good times of old,
When women, I've heard say
. II winds we're high, or weather cold,
Dried up and blew away.
ouoth I, 20, wind 0, bitter wind
: Why blow chill on me!
Y I'm old and lonely, nearly blind
E What are my rags to theef"
for those good times of old, &C.
Yet still the cold, cold wind blew on,
: And pierced me through and through,
1t said to me, fn quiet scorn,
: "Away with hags like your
a 0 for those good times Of old, &c.
q curse thee wind, with all my might
curse thy chilling BREATH
Unless thou blow me of tonight,
I'll curse thee till my death.
Q 0 for those rare good times Of DID, &c.
Chorus again !" shouted the old man stamp
!, ing his foot. And they sang it through again
J. till the old walls of the room echoed with tn
wild scream of their voices.
r "Those good old times may come again, sai'
the old man, after they had finished singing
: " But there is certain state of feeling to whicl
y every one must arrive. before they can vanisl
: from earth. People in the old lines oftene