Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1869-08-17

questions than | did, and always had
an inquiry ready to intercept his eve
ry transit through the car. And so
the complement was made up of all
the inevitable characteristic new to
me in those days-whom my subse-
quent travelling experiences have
taught me to look for in every rail-
way journey.
At half an hour before noon we ar
rived at the Boston station, and my
heart had thrilled at the recognition
of the plain shaft on Bunker Hill as
we passed over the water to reach the
city. suffered myself to be captur-
ed by hackman, and taken across
the town to Haymarket Square, for
the sake of getting my trunk there;
and | can remember to this day how.
strange looked the high brick walls,
the brilliant shop windows, the hurry
ing crowds that have since become
such familiar objects, as peered, half
sick with loneliness and excited by
the novelty of the scene, from the win
dows of the carriage. think it all
appeared more wonderful to me then,
fresh from the country as | was, than
glimpse of Jeddo or Pekin would
now. Even the people seemed like
foreigners, as they rushed along with
inexplicable haste close beside me;
and the signs furnished reading as in
teresting as a novel.
This taste of the sights of the city,
| suppose, made the quiet of the
Maine station particularly tedious to
me. | could not check my trunk un-
til half an hour before the train would
leave; but | could leave it with en-
tire safety in the baggage room, my
hackman told me, and | myself saw
him deposit it there and noted the
spot. | ate my lunch-sandwich and
a slice of sponge cake-in the waiting
room; and as | read the inscription,
beware of Pickpockets," which hung
by the ticket Office window, | remem-
Der mentally congratulating myself
that | had put all my store of money,
except enough for the needs of the
journey, safely in my trunk. Ralph
has told me since that that was the
beginning of my follies, and the fruit
ful source of all my woes but | tho't
at the time it was a remarkable piece
Of womanly prudence. At least it re-
lieved me of my anxiety, as resolved
to spend the two hours at my COM
mand in rambling about the city ; and
l set forth with stout heart and ca
ger anticipationS of pleasure.
l paused, however, at the thresh-
old and looked upon the noisy tumult
of the square, thinking whether | had
any special point to aim at. > l knew
hnt ono Por5on in the city. a Mr..
Churchill, who had paid hunting
and fishing visit to our village in the
summer, had extended his stay far
beyond his original purpose, had Wis
tied my little school, and had left his
photograph in my keeping when he
came, in a merry mood, to say good
by. Decidedly, | should like to see
Mr.. Churchill; but, decidedly, l would
not 60 to his Office to call upon him.
= Perhaps l might meet him. had no.
, ted the windows of Washington street
as | rode through, as offering the most
positive attractions; so | determined
to 60 there for my walk, and, if | saw
Court street by the way, to look up
on the walls for the strip Of board
: which, Mr.. Churchill had told me, in.
, dicated his Office there.
A burly policeman gave me the
) right direction, with a courtesy and
} clearness which made me set down q
mental credit mark very near the
: maximum standard of a hundred, as
| used to grade my pupils at school, fol
. the whole class to which he belonged
5 By dint of long waiting at the cross
ings till wide gap should appear il
the endless professions of teams, anG
4 frequent questions when | found my
self getting astray in the confusing
D labyrinths of a part of the city il
e which now, as a resident, | often ge'
: puzzled, made my way to Washing
r ton street, and speedily plunged into
G the delights of book store windows
and millinery windows, with an en-
d joyment only interrupted by inspec
tions of my watch about once in tel
minutes, in my nervous fear lest
should overstay my limit. | walked
| around the Old State House, and fix
It ed by combined effort of my memo
e ry and imagination, upon the yer.
e spot which must have been stained b,
the blood Of the Boston massacre, 81
: familiar to my mind from frequen
listening to parrot-like recitations OF
i its history as coldly told in the schoo
o books. stopped full minute t.
It look at Mr.. Whipple's revolving sun
It nov only memory of the past
l. until people trod on my skirts, an,
e the expressmen stopped to smile a
g my curiosity, as they trundled thei
= bundles and boxes in and out of tn
d Office close by. Every little inciden
r of that hour is photographed upon M
n mind, as the trifes often are that g
o before great calamity or seriou
J. fright; but it is not worth while to re
It call them all here. saw Mr.. Chul
# chill's gilt sign under window o
a. Court street; but | did not see hi
= bright face under any one of the count
a. less black hats which swept by me a
| strolled up the street. At last
y was one o'clock, and l thought at tn
h, next corner I would turn back, an
1t so have plenty of time to reach tn
N station. The window at which ha
is paused as | made this resolution wa
s, the most horid and the most persisten
al in its appeals to the public that l ha
lie seen. Its contents clamored for a
10 tention, with great placards in stal
m ing letters, "a Few More Left-onl
IF Saventv.fiva CantSr and anuaJIx n