The Lake County star. [volume] (Chase, Mich.) 1873-current, 1874-12-31

entrusted to its keeping Often it ques
toned the ocean, but the answers it re
ceived were hard to understand, and CAV
the oak tree but scanty comfort. /
seemed that it must wait and hope, an,
then in time, perhaps, the solution of tn
problem would be attained. Sometimes
in the urgency of its desire, the tree hal
regretted that il had ever become mixet
up with human interests and sorrows
almost preferable seemed its forme
lonely, but more undisturbed and quie
existence. But the link which bound i
to mankind could not be broken with
wish; the oak was held to its destiny
and in it found its only happiness, SAT
though it were.
One Christmas eve, when the widow
DOnne had grown very old and infirm
she rose Hp from her place before the fire
and seemed to be making preparation
to 60 out. Her son, accustomed always
to hamor her fancies, wrapped warn
cloak around her shoulders, and followed
her forth into the night. She walked
along the shore to spot just below
where the oak tree grew, and there
stopped and threw herself upon hel
knees. A little mound of snow, blown
together by the wind, chanced to liz
close beside her as she knelt. She stocp
ed down and pressed her lips to il, and
stroked it with her aged hands, murmur
ing unintelligible words. Suddenly she
raised her head and pointed upwards tC
where the oak stood, bare and brown
against the sky.
"Therew she cried, "there il treasure
seek for it'll"
Her son lifted her up, and carried
her back to the cottage, musing over
her strange behavior. "She seemed to
point to the old oak tree!" he said
to himself, and ever afterwards
the saying about the treasure was asso-
ciated with the oak tree in his mind.
That night the widow Donne died; but
that night, also, a child was born to her
son. And so another Christmas pnssed
away.
The war had long been over, now, and
the land began to be prosperous once
more. The little cottage began to look
more comfortable: an addition had been
built to it, and the little plot of ground
had been enclosed with pick
ct fence. Near the further end of this
enclosure stood the venerable oak tree;
it was looked upon with respect and rev.
erence as being in some way connected
with the destiny of the family. The
saying of the old crazy woman about
the treasure had been handed down from
the last generation, and was now thought
to refer to the oak, though how no one
could tell. A circular bench had been
around its trunk, on which
the old widows son, himself an old man
now, used to sit and chat with his chill
dren in the afternoons. Often was the
story Of the winters night fifty years
before repeated, when grief and horror
had driven the wife of the skipper mad;
and many time was the mean'n ng of the
strange sentence so often on her lips dis
,ussed. The old oak listened and longed
to drop q word into the conversation
which should render all the mystery
clear; but it could only sigh and mur-
mur and rustic unintelligibly with its
leaves; and sometimes had it not been
for the reassuring thunder of the surf
upon the rocks, it would have quite lost
heart and hope. But it's immemorial
friend was Just as fresh and vigorous and
confident as when the oak first peeped
forth out of the acorn, and kept up the
trees spirits in its own despite. They
would have risen high enough could that
dead weight of gold and silver at its roots
have been lifted from its position.
Still time went on and full eighty years
had passed since the night of the skipper's
tragic death, His son had followed him,
and now third generation, newly intro
duced into the world, climbed on the
knees of parents who were already ap-
middle age. One, fair-haired
girl with wide blue eyes, was called
Mildred, after her great-grandmother
whom she was believed closely to resem-
BILE. She was singular child: shy and
reserved in manner and fond of wander
ing off by herself among the rocks and
trees, listening to the roar of the surf
and the signing of the wind. Her favor
ite position was at the foot of the old oak
tree, she would sit with her fair head
leaning against its rugged bole, running
the strange stories Of by-gone years, and
in her childish way, to. fathom
the mystery which seemed to underlie
them. The ancient tree seemed to cast
n peculiarly grateful shade about this
child, and perhaps succeeded better than
ever heretofore in establishing some sort
Of communication. Mildred loved it
with all her heart and told it all her
secrets; and the tree received them in
The most sacred confidence, never repeat
ing them even to the ocean. The latter,
however, appreciated the delicacy of the
oak's feelings, and never took the least
Dffense. So the three became and re-
NAMED fast friends long after the girl
mad ceased to be child.
Meanwhile the affairs at the cottage
had shared i'm the general prosperity.
Mildreds parents had striven to give
their children a better education than
they themselves had had; their sons
were sent to college, and Mildred's natur-
ally refined aud thoughtful nature re-
ceived such improvement as study and
accomplishments could give 1t. But,
when all had been done, and the sons
had gone forth into the world, all the
money which had been saved was spent,
and soon after came the war Of 81, and
times were hard again, and prospects
gloomy. The tree wondered whether
The hour to deliver mp its secret had not
yet come.
0ne day in August young man ele-
gantly dressed, with valise in his hand,
came to the cottage door and asked If he
might have lodging there. All the ho-
tells were filed and this was his last
chance. The Donnes were pleased with
the young mans frank address and en-
gaging manner, and finally consented to
receive him; and he soen became favor
ite with them all. He was rich and well
and told them many tales Of
the outside world which they had never
known; but when he talked, his eyes
most often sought sympathy from Mil
dred's; and IL was she who listened to
him with the most rapt attention; and
not many weeks had passed before they
knew they loved each other.
Sitting together one evening beneath
the oak tree, Mildred told her lover the
wierd story, which, from her frequent
Il