Wyandot County Republican. [volume] (Upper Sandusky, Ohio) 1869-1903, 1871-08-10
VOLUME XVI.
THE STRANGE VISITOR TO w
BY GEORGE L. CATLIN.

mail coach came down the shaded street
OF the quiet village of W, on It's wa.
to the old fashioned hosiery standing a
the cross roads In the centre OF the town
where sign, swinging to the wind, an
nounced entertainment for man and beast
and where, in fact, for all travellers in tha
mail coach the days journey ended Tht
day had been merciless'y warm one the
dust, in great clouds, rolled up from thu
wheels, the driver sat begrimed and coat
less on his box, and the jaded animals
barely kept UP at gait faster than s
walk, by the consciousness of their neal
approach to the nights resting place. No
unpleasant either, was the contrast which
the dusty vehicle with its occupants pre-
sented to the cool, quiet of the sidewalk;
and verandas which it passed on its lazy
journey down the shaded thoroughfare
Bareheaded urchins sat uron the grassy
banks, or tossed their hats aloft in wei
come. Beyies of laughing, fair-haired
children fitted by, while within the white
palings- which lined the street could be
seen, seated here and there in the shadows
happy family groups, delightfully."- sug
| gestive of refreshing GOODNESS and com
| fort
So, at any rate, thought the solitary
f, passenger whom on that particular even,
| ing the mail coach brought to W. He
had been riding all day, had travelled fol
several days previous, he said, and was
not bit sorry to near the end of his journey
A rather singular. looking old gentleman
he was, too, at first sight, not at all such
one as you would single out in crowd to
ask for either sympathy or assistance. His
face had worn and forbidding look to
the casual observer, his dress was PLAIN,
rather inclined to seediness even, and,
when he spoke, his voice was quick and
testy, like that of aman who had battled all
his life with care and anxiety, and had
learned to ask no odds but those which his
own energies and exertions gave him.
Good-natured Boggs, the driver, who in
his decade of stage-coach existence had
made q study of human nature in all its
phases, had made up his mind pretty
early in the day that his solitary passenger
was not man to be easily cultivated All
efforts to draw him into conversation had
proved futile. And yet, thought Boggs,
'theres something kind and good behind
that grabbed face and short answers, I'll
be bound"
He made final and partially successful
efforts, however, as they neared the vii
lage.
"Ever in W before, sir ?" he asked.
the place changed much ?"
precious little, to my knowledge, for
twenty years back" answered Boggs.
Twenty It's twice that since was
here" said the stranger.
"Mere boy, then, I s'pose," continued
Boggs.
"Yes, quite youngster when left the
place." was the reply; and then the two
had relaDsed into silence
And now as they passed on through the
twilight shadows toward the village center,
the old gentleman peered eagerly out, now
on this side, now on that, now gazing
closely at some one or another of the gaunI
old dwellings embowered in flowers by the
roadside, now leaning forward as some
brook, or tree, or other familiar landmark
came back to his memory. And SO, as he
looked and pom dered, the vehicle came to
halt before the tavern door, and the jour-
ney was over.
The old man-for he did seem old, as
with his short, bent figure, and limping
gait, he shuffled up the hotel steps, and
across the sanded foor-gave some direc-
lions about his baggage-which consisted
OF small superannuated trunk, and car
pet-bag which had seen its best days long
ago-inquired in a sharp, fitful way where
the proprietor was, and upon that in
dividual making his appearances in the
form, not of the conventional rubicund-
visaged Boniface, but of demure, sober
faced man, whose lethargic movements
and resigned expression Uf countenance
marked him as one who simply cOnde-
scended to make his earthly home and to
keep hotel in W because be couldn't
do any better, propounded in rapid mono
syllables the inquiry whether he had any
comfortable rooms vacant.
"Doyou simply want lodging over night,
sir" meekly inquired the host
"No, SIR was the reply; "a week, two
weeks, a month, or two perhaps"
A momentary gleam of the sordid SEEM
ed to overcome the submissive in the inn
keepers countenance, but it quickly faded
away again, as its owner said, L trust we
shall be able to accommodate you, sir.
Please register you name"
The stranger glanced over the pages of
the book before him. Not an arrival that
day-none the day before-in fact, only
two for week back. To this beggarly
record of guests, he added his signature,
scrawling in little, dried-up, characters,
which looked for all the world like him
self, the inexpensive name, John Thomp-
son, New Orleans"
The old gentleman was fatigued, and
after little repast, all to himself, in the
dinning-room, was shown up to his apart
ment, corner bed-chamber, gorgeou,ly
stiff and cool with its white curtains,
snowy bed-spread, and straight backed
chairs. The window fastening were, as is
usual in rural taverns, all out of order,
and the simple country maid of all work,
who innocently held her ear to the key
hole, after bidding the guest "good-
night" heard Mr.. Thompson fuming and
fretting as he wrestled with the refractory
catches, until finally the sashes went up,
the blinds were flung open, and the opera
ton eliminated in an emphatic grunt
about equally made up of disgust and sat
isfaction. Meanwhile the loungers down
stairs were airing all sorts of random
speculations as to the character and de-
signs of the new conler-speculation
which necessarily were of most unsatis-
factory nature, in view of the limited in.
formation to be extracted from the taciturn
Boggs and the almost illegible scrawl on
the register.
But could they have known the thoughts
that were crowding thick and fast upon
| the mind of him who sat in the window
above, looking out upon the moonlit
street; could they with him have recalled
| the memories which came over him
memories saddened by the vision of wan
and hardship. and a moss-covered tomb
stone in the village church -yard-hard by
the most careless and callous of then
would have prayed for a blessing ON tha
gray haired head, with its weary, thought
ful face.
W, at the time of its revisitation b,
the somewhat eccentric Mr.. Thompson
was quiet country village, with scarcely
two thousand inhabitants, and possessing
no especial characteristics to distinguish
from the hundred other villages which mes
tie lovingly among the hills, or on tn
bosom of the landscape within a circui
of hundred miles from the metropolis
Extending along the turnpike road for
diatance of half mile or more on eithe
side were struggling rows of cottages
interspersed here and there with more os
tentatious dwellings, while an occasions
shop window or sign peeped cut from be
meath the trees to vary the monotony
About midway another street intersecte
the main road, at about the junction {
these two thSOughfares, forming, wit
| a. ,c tour aoIr1 =