Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1874-08-13

right into the ground before his face
and eyes?"
"He had to cross the creek, you
know, and by that time the thing had
disappeared, though he beat about
the bushes and trees, and halloed at
the top of his voice. Last night some
of the village boys took shotgun
and went down to the bridge and
watched till morning, but nothing ap-
peared. Moses is certain what he
saw wasn't of this world 1t might
have been sent as warning"
"What mess of absurd stuff! eX-
ploded Edwin, nearly choking with a
mouthful of hot coffee. ':People
must be very far gone, to believe in
ghosts at this age of the world. Some
Of those loafers around the store have
started the thing to raise breeze
among the women. The railroad
bridge is a fearful place, nearly seven
ty feet high, with rocks and trunks of
trees all wedged in together in the
gully below. Then the whole struct-
ure is only temporary. Not girder
or brace has been put yet where it will
stay. / doubt if the string pieces
would bear even child's weight, and
a false step Of an inch would be sure
death
81 don't say flesh and blood ever
> went over there" remarked Mrs.
Camp, again sprinkling the air with
her peculiar odor
"Well," said Edwin, dogmatically,
"if flesh and blood didn't so over
there, nothing has ever gone"
"You needn't try to be wise above
what's written, Edwin" struck in
Mrs. H. looking like an exaggerated
and very amiable pouter pigeon. awe
have scripture warrant for believing in
strange things. Your father, the dea-
con, used to be good deal staggered
by the Witch of Endor and the rails
ing of Samuel, and we read of famil-
liar spirits. For my part, I don't
want them to get on familiar terms
with me. I'd rather they'd keep theil
distance-Why, where's Rachel" she
added, suddenly looking round. The
girl had slipped out Of the room.
"What soft stepping thing she
} isl" remarked Sister Camp, helping
herself to another installment of corn
cake. "She comes in like streak
l of moonshine. 1t gives me skittish
: feeling to have folks move that way"
} 81 never had a stranger in my house
that made so little trouble responded
the deacon's widow. "She sits at hel
} work all day like bird on Its nest
and it does beat all what a knack she
has at coloring photographs Janet
60 get that one of your sister Huldah
, 1t looks if it was going to speak.
There's no need of my taking'a stran
ger into the family. The deacon left
me above-board, and Edwin is doing
uncommon we'll in the mill; but wher
she told me she was friendless and
alone in the world, with her pretty
} soft eyes full of tears, I hadn't the
hca'y to say no."
"Yok took her on her face, Sister
Huntly ?"
Eyes, and it's as innocent as lamb
She's always been good prompt pay
and I was getting fond of the little
thing, most as if she'd been one of my
) own girls. These quiet still folks
= have a wonderful way of edging them
selves into the feelings, and even now
l won't believe word of harm of the
l poor child, as I'm a Christian. But il
. did give me a start to hear there hat
been difficulty year ago up at Ed
gecomb."
9 "The girls had gone their severa
ways, Janet to feed her poultry, HUI
, dah to attend to the kitchen. Edwin,
, perceiving his mother was getting in
to the neighborhood Of what children
call "bloody bones," let his knife fall
and, STOPPING down, touched her foot.
Mrs. Huntly coughed, and hemmed
and colored.
| "Oh, Sister Camp" she said, sud
e denly changing the subject, "haven't
. you brought along some good reli
e gious reading forEdwin that will wax
e him up to his impenitent condition 2
r "To be sure" Sister Camp was al
5 ways primed with religious reading
carried it in company with her catarrl
. snuff and various specifics, for the col'
=. that continually hung about her
HSo.,auhar.. oI. othnr in NV riQirull