Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1875-06-17
S SeIsftso SStorp. S
A True Story.

My cousin Benjamin Foster and |. sit to-
gether in the d-tashioned porch of an old
fashioned country house. Through the
brightness Of the June twilight lingering :
round. the early roses flame red,v and
smell sweetly. \ full moon, bright and
snucy, mounts on her golden Steed up the
broad highway of heaven. while Il f1w
stars, twinklins merrily. canter behind her
like "A guard a. she goes
My cousin Benjamin, wrapped in his
purple six dressing gown, in The gray and
rosy twilight, quotes pensive passage,
from Wordsworth ~ lie looks out over the
silyan scene. and talk, OF evenings passed
in wandering 10y silver shannon and the
sounding sea OF summer afternoons
dreamed away in the shadow OF the cloud
kissing Apprentices; while /, listening draw
my scarf about my shoulders and answer
ab>ently, keeping up an undtrtone Of
Nv hen the young May moon is beaming
love. words redolent OF airs that nave
blown from the days that are 10 more.
Now. after reading the above paragraph
over, take it all back. wrote il lust for
fun. My cousin Benjamin and | are no
such sentimental noodles. lie wears. a,
he always does in the evening, a cashmere
dresslng-sown OF great, spraw ling orien-
tai pattern. and one foot. wrapped in han-
mel. extending on footstool before him
for he has touch of unpoetical gout. A.,
lie leisurely smokes his evening pipe. he
nurses his invalid foot, and tells me that
Jenny the sorrel colt. has a swelling on
the knee which will most likely unfit her
for work through the summer.
|. who am five years Younger than nv
cousin, sit opposite him in the covered
porch, with a thick gray shawl folded
round my shoulders to ward off pos sible
attacks of rheumatism.
! am knitting socks of bright crimson
wool. and while | give one ear TO the all
ments OF Jenny, the colt, with the other
listen anXlousy for the returning footsteps
of Alice and young Benjamin, who have
gone for an evening stroll.
Ii Is now many years since my cousin
(by-the-way. although we call ourselves
cousins, the Foster blood in nv veins ha,
been so diluted with alien stock that the
original fluid is hardly recognizable) offer
ed me the shelter of his great. warm heart
and brown brick house. left vacant by the
death of Mrs. Benjamin. /. who was poor
and homeless, gladly accepted the home 50
kindly pfoHered. and have never but once
left ii tor a protracted absence.
Three years after that iourneyed hun
/ dreds of miles westward, for the sole pur-
Z
the almshouse Alice Ford the infant
daughter OF John Ford convicted felon.
lying in prison cell under the ban of pen
al servitude for life.
| had been the betrothed wife of John
Ford in my youth, and we had been very
! fond of each other in those days of ro-
nance and roses, in those evenings of
song and sentiment, ..when the Young
May moon is beaming. dear" when we
/ had dreamed of love in a cottage with
nothing year to support; but that day
when he grovelled at my feet, kissing my
hands and dress, and blessing me for piy-
ing his baby girl the shelter OF Christian
home, was not sorry to think | was an
| old maid.
had not concealed from my cousin Ben
janin the antecedents of Alice's father. [
had even offered to 90 out into the world
ana begin the battle OF life over; but he
only opened his great warm heart and
brown brick house the wider. bidding US
stay and welcome.
An. you do not know how many wan
! derers a house will hold when Charity
| opens the door. The roof seems to 90 up,
the walls widen and lengthen, warmth and
| light flow through the rooms, and mama
seems TO come in through the windows,
| spreading with bountiful feasts. If YOU do
not believe me. just try it once
So the children grew up together, and
as watch then sitting and walking side
| by side. should be perfectly happy but
that l, in my turn, have kept a little secret
| from my cousin Benjamin.
A few weeks after my return home |
read ia newspaper that the corpse of a
man, shockingly mutilated, but supposed
to be that of John Ford. the escaped con.
vict, had been taken from the shadows OF
a western river and given prison burial
The words haunt me. Supposed to be John
| Ford. What If it were not him. what il
| he were still living and should some day
come back and claim Alice and make us
trouble?
Thinking of such possibilities, | tremble
with dread. and forget those other sweetel
times when John Ford WAS an innocent
| lad. "When the moon was beaming, love-
| and We walked by the borders of the calm
Bendemere. But this is nonsense, and
take it all back again.
While am explaining these things. or,
| rather, while am going round and round
the stitches of my crimson wool sock, my
cousin Benjamin has finished his pipe, and
] is growing tired and hungry.