Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1873-05-08
valuation in this railroad chance of max

that summer afternoons ride-a place il
| another world
So sharply was impressed by my com
| paniOn's appearance, manner, converse
| ton and by-the more than thOSe-a Ger
| tain aroma or magnetic halo which | fan
| cied his personality to eXhale, that my i'm
agination constructed a romantic theory 0
his probable life-an influence and an eX
| ample as wholesome breezes in every clos,
quarter they might chance. No artisan
was he in his profession [ mused but ar
fist in that and the life broader than pro
feSSion
As we crossed the Spuyten Duyvel my
companion aroused himself from his open
eve nap, and gave attention to the book il
hand, but soon turned from that to til,
scenery, My offer to him of the seat by
the window led to some desultory re
marks, and those passed into a converse
ton which, before we passed the opposite
Palisades, had grown as warm and earnes
as the talk of old friends.
What delightful ride that is up tn,
Hudson River railroad by six or six
thirty train, of summers afternoon
There was but little dust that day 1t hat
been a sitting one in the city. Before
Sing Sing and seven o'clock the hot SUI
sank down behind the Nyack hills. Ther
we were able to push up the blinds anC
enjoy the full breeze and view.
In a moment we plunge from light
breeze, and freedom into the damp obscu
rIty OF short tunnel, then rush with
changing reVerberatiOns past the high
Swallowed, white walls pierced with hun
dreds OF narrow, grated window Sits. You
put your face close to the car side, and
peer up with sad curiosity at the prison
Sides perhaps catch Il fash-like picture
III one Of those iron barred frames of a
iace-merely a bare face seen but for an
lnstant-but perhaps you fancy it a hard,
desperate cOuntenance marked by
misery and revenge. But few seconds for
your gloom. 1t travels not beyond the
massive, dreary walls and the last sentry
box. A harsh, prolonged whistle Of the
engine, and we are by the pleasant open
shore again. Some faint pink lines over
the RocklaRd hills, the river cheerfullv
rlppled, few sails, away ahead steam
boat just passing CrOton Point. With in
creasing speed we flash by Sing Sing,
screaming as though our monster locomo-
tive craved some victim to wet its rails
Now Brandreth's pretty little pill-bo and
factory close under our right; a marshy
shore and outstretched nets on the left
We cross the drawbridge of the Croton-
the beautiful river flowing out Of but
partially revealed valley, and spreading
into bay that looks the picture spot for
punts and f1ocks of ducks.
Just there, near the south shore of Gro
ton Point, and about quarter of mile
from the rails, was a sloop swinging on a
new tack as we saw it. In the SOftening
light little in the shadow of the land,
gently touched by a reflection of the west
ern sky, and caught but for glance as
she turned to a new course, and we ran
between the gravel banks that open with a
dry yawn right at the base Of the Point,
she seemed as shape seen in the clouds,
as fading mirage-a mysterious unreal
ty and taintness encOmpassing her as the
atmosphere of some phantom craft
What a pretty illusion!" exclaimed
my companion with a sigh, as if the sight
was too quickly shut out
Yes" | answered, like brief dream
a shadow in the water, reflection from
some river Of the spirit world;' and |
gave half laugh as a sort Of apology for
my romance.
Heretofore in this narrative I have not
given our conversation, but only suggest
ed its character and tervOr Now, how
ever, | write the words exactly as spoken
Then my companion, turning himself to
me and throwing his arm along the back
Of the seat behind mean unconscious
gesture that seemed to take me into his
minds embracc-said with a sweet. ner-
vous smile, and tone of some hesitancy,
lowering his voice and slowly, carefully
uttering his words:
THAT little picture impresscs you ex
actly as it does mc-yOur words are Just
what mine would be- But much more
than this something so strangely sympa-
thetlc between you, good sir, and me,
strangers, it would seem, ever before this
afternoon, moves me to narrate an Incl
dent which the sight of that phantom-like
boat recalls. The-epi-yes, | will call it
episOde-remains with me an inetfaceable
impression, and yet this is the first time
have mentioned it. Some doubt-some
instructive sentiment that | cannot analyze
some involuntary check that has come
upon me whenever | have been on the
point Of uttering it-has hitherto prevent
ed me from repeating the facts | was a
witness to, actor in, l may say This re-
if l may call it so, was not at
all superstitious, for the incident had
nothing in it ghostly to me, nothing OPP
pressive or fearful, only very strange; I'M
accountable, certainly, according to our
present lights, but suggesting only a Wig
orous train of speculation to my thoughts
However, to give you my little story: |
was invited a year ago this summer-by
the way, in this same month of Julv-to
join young friend of mine, my nephew,
in a coasting voyage in his yacht | glad
ly accepted, and became one of a small
but very pleasant party for fortnight's
cruise. We ran down the Chesapeake,
had some charming trips in it's waters,
stopped at Fortress Monroe, entirely es-
capped bad weather, and in every way en-
joyed ourselves fully. My nephew is
much better than a mere idle
young man of wealth. He follows as an
artist his profession of literature, is man
OF much information, education and con
vcrsational power, and as his life is pure
and his manners are dignified, he makes a
delightful host. To balance the sweetness
OF three ladies and a beau Of society, he
brought on the trip E, one Mr. c.,
whose wife was one Of our ladies, and this
old togy myself. However, my short story
has nothing to do with any of those Our
sailing -master, though paid by the month,
and one of the best yacht sailors in New
ork harbor, was gentleman equal so
clally to the best Of us. He comes of one
OF the first families in the country, but is
poor, and crazy on everything marine. To
sailing many yachts in summer he Joins
boat building in winter, and sea painting
at all times. He is gcntlcmanlv original,
a mixture of Tom Cringle's Log The