Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1859-10-06

=" A dragon +? + cried Bradford" Mark~
story-teller, and you are goose but if there
is one, | will catch him for YOU and he
stood on the brink of the we'll, and sportively
threw his line into it.
you are pretty fellow to talk of catching
a dragon, Brad retorted Mark, little net,
tied at the tone in which Bradford spoke of him
=" you can't even catch sinner !'''-and ho
glanced at Bradford's empty basket.
Bradford laughed louder than before. "And
for that very reason expect to catch the drag
on. One kind of line will not catch all kinds
of fish and this line may be good for nothing
but dragons, after all-There I've got q bite.
Stand back, Rosy" cried he, . the dragon will
be on the grass in minute"
Bradford tried to pull up his line, but it was
either entangled among the stones, or had some
heavy object attached to it, for the rod bent be-
meath the weight as he with strong pull en-
deavored to uraw up his prize. Rosamond's
eyes opened to their widest extent, and, fully
expecting to see the dragon swinging wide
mOuthed in the air over her head, drew u little
closer to Mark, who, on his part. wondered
what Bradford was at, and whether he was not
playing some trick upon him.
When the end of the line rose to the top of
the well, they saw suspended by the two hooks,
not a winged scaly monster, but small rusty
box, in the fastenings of which the hooks had
caught.
Rosamond drew long breath -" Is that all,
Bradford? | am so sorry thought, to be
sure, you had the dragon"
Never mind the dragon, Rosy cried he {;
" let us tee what have caught. Who knows
but the purse of Fortunatus or the slipper of
Cinderella may be in here ?-thcy have been lost
for many day, and nobody knows where they
are"
Bradford knelt down on the grass, and, un-
hooking his line, strovo to'undo the rusty hasp;
but it resisted all the efforts of his fingers, and
it was only by the aid of knife and q stone
that he opened the box In it was morocco
case, much discolored, but still in tolerable pre-
servation, from which he drew small manu-
script book
Rosamond's disappointment was greater than
before i" 1t is nothing but writing book, af-
ter all" said she. I" | wish you had not said
anything about the purse or the slipper, and
then l should never have thought Of them.
You never heard anybody say where they
thought the purse and slipper was hid,-did
you ,"
"Come Rosy" cried Mark, "come down to
the meadow there is nothing more to be got
out of the old well. Let us leave Brad alone
with his book and his fish,
The children turned away towards the mend
ow,-Rosamond medltatng upon the probabili-
ty of her ever finding the purse or the slipper
If she should ever set out in quest of them, and
Mark thinking what fool such big fellow as
Bradford must be, to mind any woman that ever
was born.
Bradford took the box and the book to the
chestnut-tree, and, stretching himself at full
length in the shade, began to turn over the
leaves. 1t was a Journal, written in graceful
delicate hand; and though the paper was some
what yellow, and the ink faded, the writing
was perfectly legibe. Bradford looked at it
carclessly reading here and there q sentence, till
his eye catching some familiar names, he open,
ed it at the commencement, and read as fol.
lows
I" December 3l.--lt is the last night of tht
old year. A few more steps, and the old veal
will have vanished into the great hall of thu
Past, where all the ages that ever have been art
gathered. have been sitting the last hour by
myself, and have fancied that time moved no
with its usual swiftness, that the old year lin
gered with sad regret, as if loath to pass away
and let the new come in. Even now the mid
night clock is striking, eleven, twelve -th,
last hutter of the old years robe is out of sight
and the new year glides in with noiseless feet
like one who enters the chamber of the dead
These are but melancholy fancies because
am sad myself must | put all the world il
mourning? The old year did not linger 1T il
only that am loath to go. have been 81
happy here, that the prospect of spending tn,
coming year with Cousin Eleanor fills my mint
with sad forbodings; and yet my childish re
membranes Of her have in the,-ssnothing ur
pleasant think of her US gre -
man, who never strove 70