Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1873-04-17
SsItfteD Storp.
Dawes Old Friends.

a new suit on and money in his pocket,
whereas the thriftless, barefoot youth
who had tramped out of town by this
road eight years ago, whistling, and
with his hands in his pockets. had
been recognized all through the village
as "Dave," which cognomen expressed
in brief his social position and advan.
tages. Yet those who had known the
care-free, sunburned lad, might have
discovered traces of him still in the
frank gray eye and easy bearing of the
stranger.
This was Main street up which he
was saunteriDg. 1t was bordered rs
of old by hem of emerald grass,
nibbled close by an occasional stray
COW or wandering goat. twas speck-
led breezily with sunshine and shadow
from the comfortable, well-to-do man
sions.
Dave, as | have said, had disappear
ed down that respectable street years
ago, with an old straw hat on his head,
and whistling a snatch of song. He
came back, whistling still, with new
hat and a few gray hairs streaking the
black locks beneath it, and perhaps
that was all the difference. He thought
so. How could he be signally changed
when everything here was so like what
he remembered.
Beyond this, he recollected, was the
trading street. thrifty avenue, with
shops little and big. where country
wares, plows, brooms. queenswarc, silk
dresses, and ribbons were sold from
opposite counters, and trade was varied
and brisk; there was the old coffin
shop, and the beer house with the
overtiowing glass not yet empty on the
creaking sign before it. And after a
spell of business the little street mean
dered OIL in the direction of the sea-
shore, and forgot its calling, wander.
Ing along the pebbly beach in sight of
far OF sails aud smoky distances.
Down there under the cliffs the Old
scow used TO swing in the shadows
the old scow in which he used TO 90
padding about with Hannah-Hannah
who never shirked work, and always
helped him to bail out. He wanted To
see her and "the girls her prudent
elder sisters, who were wont 10 anathe-
| mize her when she came home barefoot
and muddy, with her blue apron full
OF clans.
David had seen many changes since
he lived up in that old rel farmhouse
with the old farmer and his wife, the
torment of the girls and the comrade
Of Hannah. He had wintered up in
the pine woods. far up in the solitude
OF SIaIue. noatlng uuwu with the men
on RATS when the spring freshets came.
He knew the sap and freedom of
primitive life, and konce he had nearly
wrecked on the rapids but he had al
ways remembered the old water logged
craft and the little girl in the check
apon-black eyed, pock marked, and
agile-who had padded about in it
with him.
Did such girls ever grow to be wo-
men: he wondered. He tried TO make
situation in his mind that suited
Hannah, but she didn't suit the situa-
ton. Impossible to imagine the quaint
wilful little thing settled down into the
ordinary avocatlons of women. lie
must wait-wait till he got to the old
| farmhouse.
The tide was coming in, and there
was a familiar smell of salt air and
shell-iish all about the place as he ap-
preached.
But the old red house was shut up ;
no smoke issued from the chimney. no
| sign of life was visible in the window
or doorway. a lonely ash tree near
the fence turned up its changeling
leaves mockingly as of old solitary
bird, startled by his footsteps, winged
its way from the branches.
This does look like change :"
muttered Mr.. David to himself, eyeing
the weedgrown garden lingeringly.
What spell could have fallen on the old
busy life that once kept the place
astir?
Must have moved" he concluded,
as he went down the hill TO the road
below.
At that moment the village school
broke up, and out burst cornucopia
Of youngsters, shouting and flying
along the road.
My lad" said Mr.. David, catching
at one of the hindmost as he scudded
past, lean you tell me where Old Farm
er Nichols has moved tor
The boy eyed the stranger with rus
tic shyness, wriggling himself from the
OBTAINING hand. 1t ,oas vexatious to
be stopped in that way.
"Guess you haven't been long in
these parts?" he said, giving his hat a
knowing thrust on one side.
mo, not long. Where has the old
man gone"
''To the berrin-ground, I reckon"
said the boy, viciously, unable 70 re-
sist the jest. "Old Sexton Simms II
tell you where," he added, looking
back as he sped after his comrades.
Old Sexton Simms had been vii
lage institution in David's young days.
No change had overtaken him, it
seemed. A thin and wrinkled little
man, bloodless as last years mos
quito, had pondered the strangers face
with wise and sidewise glance, as
though studying an illegible inscrip-
tion.
"Shouldn't a knowd ye no more'n
the Dead" he cried, when Mr.. David
mentioned his name; ''though did
think, sOon's ever 1 sot eyes on ye
you must be some one or nuther. The
old folks! Oh yes, the old folks is
gone, both on 'em; died within six
months of each other, over three years
ago come next spring. The old place
has been in limbo ever since"
"And the girls!"
Married and settlel-least ways
Jane and Betsey. James done first
rate. She's Squire Johnson's wife, up