Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1869-11-23


ing her head at the maiden. "Why
don't you look in the coal cellar,
George ?"
felt disposed to swear at the coal
cellar; but Mrs. Scribe just then whis-
pering "Must go?" | went to make
the pleasant discovery that there was
not above a sack left of the last two
tons; but Mars was not there, neith-
er was he in the dust-bin; and COM
ing back out of the area, found our
dear mamma peering in the kitchen
cupboard, and apparently about next
to open the drawers of the dresser.
All this time poor Betsy, with the
palest of pale faces, was keeping guard
over the back-kitchen door, which my
wife now approached.
(Which surely, mum, you're not 60
ing to bemean yourself by going in
that dirty place, num-" said the girl.
Dirty, indeed, I've no doubt" said
Mrs. Scribe's mamma.
There; why not take the girls
word r. said l, wishing, with my Gus
tomary pusillanimity, to make COM
promise. "IS there any one-a sold
ier in that back kitchen, Elizabeth ~
But instead of answering, the girl
buried her face in her apron, and be-
gan to sob bitterly, when leading her
aside, the ladies opened the door, and
motloned me to go first
What could | do but obey? So
taking up the candle [ had the mo-
ment before set down, stepped bold
lv in, feeling sure that the murder
must now be out. But no; the one
large cupboard stood wide open, and
there was no one behind the door ;
the place was perfectly empty.
"Look under the table, George" ex-
claimed Mrs. Scribe's mamma.
Don't talk nonsense p | exclaimed.
"Why a cat could not hide itself IN
der that table. Now | hope you are
satisfied" and banging down the can
dlestick, l strobe back to our little
dining-room, soon after hearing the la
dies go up stairs.
Poor Betsy looked very pale and
troubled when she came to announce
tea; but | was not surprised, and
spoke kindly to the girl, believing
that this time she had been unjustly
accused; and then went and partook
of my comfortless cup.
The tea was removed, and an hour
passed, and then Mrs. Scribe's mann
ma, fatigued with her journey from
Hastings, retired to her bedroom
what in most houses would have been
the back drawing-room-while | de-
scended to my little den behind the
dining.room, TO try to finish an arti.
Gle commenced that morning, Mrs.
Scribe following shortly. to sit by my
fire and "tatt," that being her custom
when | am disposed to work after tea
We were both in very severe moods
she upon her low bergere stool, at
my table; and for a time nothing was
heard but the clicking of Mrs. SIS
tattiLg shuttle, and the scratching Of
my pen.
But there was no article-fnishinq
that night, with so many clouds in the
horizon; for, raising my eyes, could
see a couple Of tears stealing down
on either side of the pcettiest little
nose in the world; my pen dropped
the tatting fell all Of a horrible tan
gle; and then some one was en- hcl
knees at my feet, and l was just 60
ing to press my lips on the white fore
head within their reach, when there
was a noise
Yes, there was a nOise-a strange
hair-stirring groan, apparently at oul
shoulders; and then the sound of foot
steps on the stairs, in the passage
and then loud flop, as of some one
falling on the oilcloth, followed by
hysterical sobS and cries.
We leaped up and opened the door
to find poor Betsy apparently in Fl
now sobbing, now crying, now
shrieking, and pouring forth "Ohs =
innumerable, but quite incapable of
answering questions.
Thea came the ringing OF Mrs
Scribe's mamma,s bell, and, as it wa
of course not answered, the opening
of her door, and her voice descending
to know what all the groaning mean
that she could hear.
And now, not only from Betsy, bu
as from the wall, came groan afte
groan-loud, heart-wrung, half-stiaet
groans, similar to that which had frs
startled US, and which l had laid tt
the credit of Betsy.
"Oh," exclaimed dear mamma, Il
Is some poor creature dying mex
door, and the cries have frightene,
this poor girl-run, George, and Sc
if you can be of any avail"
Then came more groans, and sevt
raj knocks at the wall.
There, there; pray go, DEAR" sal
my wife; "some one must be in grea
peril"
, Directly after there was lou
peal at the front-door bell, and on g
ing, | found my neighbor Jones ev
IDENTIFY come for help.
"What is the matter ?"
"What is the matter ?"
, Both in a breath.
"Some one must be dying at you
; house." said Jones.
r "No, no; a: your house." I said.
"But we can hear the groaus in OF
= library"
. so we can in ours p | exclaime,
p "Come here" And leading the wa
, into the back room, there we cou!
hear the stlhed groans again.
o dts in your house." said.
4 "No, no; it's in the chimney" e
claimed Mr.. Jones. "Good heavens
E there1l be some one smothered y
ayes, yes, yes; chimney, chime
. shrieked Elizabeth; and then h
went off again into strong, genuiI
;, Mysteries.
"Is there any one there ?" l erie
: going close to the wall.
: "Oh-hr' came back a dismal gro;
. : in reply; and now light burst up'
2 my brain.
= = aHere, Jones-this way" l erie