Centre Democrat. [volume] (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, 1860-11-22
HEROINE OF sEVENTY-sI

mers. The dull song of laboring picks breaks
upon the ear with montonous regularity
They are making tracks for railroad in this
old town. am not pleased with the Sim
provements," as soma call it, for pleasant
farm house and its surrounding fields that
sloped from high and unduated hills had
vanished forever, before its nod. The great
genius of enterprise, with its ugly shears of
commerce, is clipping at the poor wings OF
poetry and romance, till, fear. by-and by,
THEY will have only power to flap along the
ground, their ethereal faculties chained down
to stock taking and invoices.
i am sorry the house has gone, for there
are some recellections connected with its his
tory for the sake of which it would be pleas
ant could it have been spared. An old farm
house surrounded by fields Of waving grain
and corn in the autumn time, and overhung
by the branches of various trees, golden with
the fullness of time, is sight of picturesque
beauty in a rich valley, especially if a fine
old mountain looms up in the background,
or deep shade Of forest trees stretches away
into the clear mellow atmosphere beyond.
In that ore before US, am now speaking
as if it stood in the old spot, the widow of
the noble Captain Piermont lived some twen-
ty years ago. The old lady was fine spec
linen of old time women; dignifed even COM
manding in manner, with fresh bloom up
on her cheek, artistcally moulded forehead,
and deep, earnest expression in her bright
eyes. She was woman cf refined and cul-
tiyated intellectual powers j; woman who
10 youth had known no stint of wealth, whose
mind was stored with classic lore, wao, till
she emigrated to the wilderness of the World,
never soiled her fingers with even household
] work.
Father and husband vera both dead The
bones of the former repesed In another coun-
| try, beneath marble monument; the latter
| had now slept two years in the little burying
ground, beside the wooden church, in sight
of the red farm house, and small gray
stone marked the place wh here his ashes min
| gled with the dust.
One day during the hardest campaign Of
our soldiers. Madame Pierpont was alone at
the farm. Pomp, a negro servant had gone
on some errand which would derain him un-
til night>fall, and Alex the hired man, had
wounded his hand in the morning with ar
axe, so that he was quite disabled, and was
obliged to return TO his home, mile distant
which, by the way, was the nearest home
stead to the old red farm house. The wild
oT's four brave sons, of ages varying from
eighteen to twenty six, had started but two
days previous to the field of their country's
| battle.
While the widow realized that 10 all prob
ability some, perhaps. all of her treasures
would be smitten with the ruthless hand Of
war, ber cheek was, still unblanched, and
holy hopo sat in the repose of her beautiful
features. Only now and then she turned to
open her Bible before her, and read few
consoing passages, and straightway resumed
ber work with a trusting smile. All pa.
triotism found an endearing home in many
such gentle breasts.
Suddenly from the distance came a sound
like the tramrlinS of horses feet, and great
cloud of dust betokeneG the approach of
travellers hurryiag to their destination. The
widow moved to the door, and shading heI
eyes from the intense sunshine, watched the
progress. They drew nearer, and in anoth,
er moment three horsemen drove up before
the door. They wore military costume, and
were all fine looking men. The formost gen.
tleman by far exceeded the others by bis i'm
posing figure, and the greatness of bis coun-
tenance. 1t needed no introduction to assure
the widow that it vas George Washington
| With that character which always characte-
rized him, he bowed gracefully to Madame
Pierpont, as be blandly asked if he could
| find rest and refleshment.
''Our horses are wearied I; we have ridden
since this morning and would fain recruit,
he added.
"Certainiy, gentlemen, and welcome" she
replied, smiling, throwing open the inner
door as they dismounted.
| "Our poor beasts" said one of the officers,
patting his smoking horse. 81 would they
could be attended to immed lately. Is their
groom or servant about your house, Mad
anne, who could rub down and feed them
/ will reward him literally"
1--WE would ask no reward in this house.
sir" replied the widow if you will lead
them round they will-be care1 for"
Make yourselves perfectly comfortable
gentlemen" said the widow, land excuse me
vile prepare your refreshments. You must
be hungry as well az ia tigued"
In another minute the widow was in the
stable unsaddlng the poor horses-work to
which she was not accustomed, but which
she nevertheless could do in time of need,
being woman ofstrong muscular frame and
great energy. She knew it must be done by
herself or not at all. AS for men and horses
they were completely jaded out. She rubbed
the animals down with straw with her own
hands and led them into stalls and prepared
and gave them food. After changing her
dress the widow returned again to the par lor,
where the officers. having unbuekled their