Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1859-01-28

I OleNtn SrdIstOn Hdu leu, ruiiior sdiur
n wild life during these twenty-five years. J
: little more than three years after Robel
e Eastman's death he had gone to sea, al,
most of his hfe since had been passed D
e the ocean and in the different ports I
: which he had sailed. He had grown ricl
e though ! heard hints of unlawful gain, t
4 which did not pay much heed. Countr
/, neighborhoods ale usually more or les
: given TO gossip, and ours was no exception
to the rule. M 9a} s'a2a 5isl
, AT all events he had come back the au
tumn before my return to Ryefield, an
t given out that he had been to sea lon,
! enough, and was going to settle down nov
, and end his days among his own .ownst6ll
and kindred. think people liked hin
| somewhat better than they used. He wa
trife more communicative and neighlspr
! ly. | ca Z say that i, however, felt much
real re gard for him. Yet he entertained
me sometimes by his "reminiscences or hair
breadth escapes on the high seas and in
far-away lands. He was a,link between
memory and the dead and buried boyhood
days, and so we were good deal together.
/ II is just week ago to-day that he rode
into the yard on his strong bay horse.
was sitting under the applr-tree.
"Come, Harry" he called to me. "get
your horse saddled, and ride out on the
Mountain Road. I've story to tell you
maddrr and joller and merrier than any of
'em. It's nice time 10 tell it, this Sep
tember morning Let me see, September
the 18th, 1858, isn't it? Yes, its the best
time in the world-to tell that story"
! 1t struck me while | was throwing the
saddle OH Black Richard that his manner
was very peculiar. Ii was SAID that he
was a hard drinker, though | bad never
sren any signs of it before. thought the
brandy might have flown 10 his head. How
ever, | got ready, and we started on our
ride.
If any, unfamiliar with the locality, should
read this >tory, perhaps they would like 10
understand better the phySiognomy of the
Mountain Road. In the northeastern part
Of the town is very high hill, known in
that region as The Mountain" A road
, was laid out, in the towns infancy, along
the base of this hill. 1t was the nearest
| cut then to some of the neighboring towns,
but better one was made few years ago
on the other side Of the hill. In some
portions of the way il is as utterly solitary
as wilderness. To the right hand rises
the mountain, overhanging it, high and steep
and f. owning. To the lrft stretch away
rugged pasture lots, used only for sheep
rocky, and here and there interspersed with
wood. On this road there is little travel,
and for nearly two miles there is not a sin
Z ola hn,tsa Nd dat taJ
enough now, but wi ich used to be. in my
Goyish days the residence of =, solitary man
called old Wrath Spauldng-a bad ard
reckless man, in whose very Tame lurked
terror. He died long ago, and / have ne, err
heard but that he sleeps quietly enough in
his lonely grave in the rear of his old tumble
down house. A little beyond this place
The halfway house in those des ,ate two
miles-and just concealed from it by turn
in the road. is a deep po at the base of
the hill, known TO all The townspeople as
the "Black Pool" 1t looks as if it might
have been dug out by the giants of dead
centuries lis waters seem falhomless in
depth. and one can not gaze down on them
as they lie there. black, still, treacherous.
without shudder. II used in other DAYS
TO be separated from the road by sort OF
paling, but this has fallen down now. aud
the way is SO seldom Travelled that no one
has taken the trouble to replace it. There
is a strange charm in the ruggedness Of the
scenery, the very desolation of this untrod-
den road, and looked around me with a
keen sense of pleasure as we slaekened our
reins and turned into it.
Though it was September, the landscape
was still as fresh and verdurous as in July.
You could understand the poeiical license
of the term diving green as you looked at
it. You could almost see the trees grow
and the grass spring up. The sky was
blue, deep, cloudless, untrouhled. The
mist, golden and white and rosy, was melt
ing away over the hill-tops, and, it seemed
to me, earth. air, and sky were as glorious
as when the Father first pronounced them
''good." Absorbed in my own thoughts
had almost forgotten Cranston's presence
until he spoke.
II promised you story" he said, riding
up close TO my side. "Itll be queer ore
Ia love story about murder" and he grim
ned ghastly grin. 81 don't think you
ever heard just such a one tale with its
hero for the teller"
He paused u moment, and the September
morning seemedto grow very cold; think
his manner chilled me. Pretty soon he
spoke again.
IL don't know as youever mistrusted that
| loved Lucia Rey nolds. There was a
time, i think, when people imagined that
Ne took a fancy TO one another, but nothing
came of il, and they gave up The idea.
don't know as there was ever any founda
ton for il on her side. She musr have re-
turned such devotion as mine wa with at
least kindly liking. | think she dill Ike
me and on that ! built wild hopes. Love
does no, at all express what / felt for her.
| worshiped her. Sulen and morose and
gloomy as every body thought me, one
smile Of hers would make a light bright as
heaven in my heart. / would have died, |
used to think. for the sole hope thai she
would weep over my grave. | have kiss
od 1Uhsn no ono saw me the very grass