Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1868-10-09
SeIefted Misfellanu.
THE OLD KEEPERS STORY.

IHE OLD n EEPER'S STORY.
IT was a quaint room in which / sat
with the freight flashing into each cor
ner, and the stuffed birds, foxes and pole
cats looking ]ifelike in the leaping blaze
A quaint cottage room, but the essence o
comfort. As pulled at the stiff glass O
water and whisky and pufed my meer
schaum, I felt excessively comfortable.
was in no hurry to get my wet water
boots dried, which lay steaming on the
ample hearth. %
My temporary host sat opposite; a
fine, athletic old man, with snow-white
hair and whiskers. The cut of his coal
and the wary look on his weather beaten
honest face sufficiently told the ex-game
keeper, had not the retriever pup at his
feet and the gun behind him added evi
dence. A fine specimen Of his class, he
wasswell-knit even at eighty years of age
with q frank, CHEEKY look in his eye that
told of straight forward truth and worth.
had been snipe shooting on some
marshes I rented Of the lady Of the manor
and having got soaked in a deep rivulet
from q fall, had sought shelter in the
keepers cottage. To be sportsman was
to besure, a passport to his favor, added
to which his grandson, Tom, was my in
variable attendant and bag carrier. The
old man had seen but once, when on my
renting the shooting from Lady Linwood
he, as her head keeper, had shown me the
boundaries. The great hall was closed,
for Lady Linwood, childless widow,
lived permanently at Nice, and her fair
estates were all let. She was the widow
of q poor Lieutenant Colonel, knighted
for gallant service, and had succeeded to
the property in lack of direct heirs.
Seamen, my host, was something more
than head keeper. Evidently he had been
one of those ancient trusted servants to
whom the honor and welfare of family
are dear as to its own members. And by
the sad look on his face whenever he
spoke of the squires of Linwood fancied
some portion of the family history was
mournful and unhappy. .n
"Do you,see much of Lady Linwood ?"
l asked.
"Never. sir. She always is abroad.
And there's never been a Linwood here
since the last squire died."
"That was long ago?"
eyes, sir, long ago. Five and forty
years agone, sir" said he, musingly, his
eyes fixed ON the fire. give and forty
years agone--and like yesterday"
was interested. The keepers manner,
action and expression were all unlike his
class, and felt curiosity, as we all do
when something tells us of hidden his
tory. 1.4'
~ suppose the last squire had good
stock of gamer" said I.
eyes, sir. Hundreds of pheasants he
turned out-I was younster then--un-
derkeeper-and l used to fetch all the
sacks of barley to feed en-"
"And was he much of sportsman"
Yes, sir. With the gun, rod and horse
lie was unequaled all the country round.
He was q tall, fine man, with eoal-black
hair and whiskers, pleasant and kind to
the tenants, but with fearful temper, if
anything should go wrong He'd rave,
and swear, and smash all around him in
the room when he was in one of his
storms. The only person who managed
him was Miss Dora"
Here the keeper became SILENT and
ook of deep sadness came over his rugged
face.
"You'll have to stay q longish time, sir,
or your things are soaked. So, if you like
20 hear it, I'll tell you the story. I sup
pose I'm like old men, sir, and like to
maunder," he added, with smile of natu-
raj dignity and courtesy, which might
have befitted prince
3 "Mr. George Linwood, five and forty
years ago, was the squire. He lived with
his mother, a gentle lady She was al
ways on her sofa, and never well, but
kind as an angel to the poor. Miss Dora
Maitland, her niece, came to stay up at the
Hall with them. Her parents were very
poor, and she'd six sisters; so they were
glad-Miss Dora's parents, mean-when
Mrs. Linwood said she'd adopt her as q
daughter. / heard this, you know, from
the lady's maid at the Hall, who was af-
terward my wife. She died years ago."
And the old man sighed, and glanced at
an empty chair near his own.
"Well sir" he resumed :" Miss Dora
came, and Mrs. Linwood was very fond of
her. So was everybody, for she was
SO sweet and gentle, and her voice was
like blackbird's Everybody about
the estate knew Miss Dora, and she
used to go about in her broad hat and
carol her song, for all the world like a
blackbird in the holly. The cottagers
used to know her, for whenever any one
was i'll there Miss Dora was, petting and
cosseting them.
$50, sir" resumed the old man after q
pause, "by-and-by Mr.. George became
fond of Miss Dora. He used to follow her
about and watch all her wishes. He broke
in chestnut filly himself, and used to ride
with her. But she seemed shy to him.
His temper was so shifty, and she heard
his curses once when he was bitterly
angry, though he didn't know she was In
hearing; and she seemed to shrink from
him. She was such beauty-golden
hair, and eyes, sir, just like the sky on q
clear day, such deep, clear blue, while
her complexion the village girls used to
call roses and lilies. I've heard it said
that a great portrait painter came down to
paint her face, and showed it in London
as the greatest beauty he had seen any
where.
"Mrs Linwood, sir, the servants could
all see was very anxious about Mr.. George
She'd murmur to herself for hours about
him, and she was always looking at hin
And nnra co wfetfi11 like &c If she didn,