Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1875-03-15


ty.five miles to the Atlantic Ocean-thc
first place Of interest we reach is Man
DARN, little town of some two hundred
people, and the winter residence of Mrs
Harriet Beecher Stowe. who struck such
heavy blows for suffering, down trodden
humanity, when she told the tale of
poor old Uncle Toms sorrows and tragic
death in the pages of ''Uucle Toms Cab
in" IL is said that when she went with
her husband-a poor, overworked pro.
fessor-to arrange for its publication in
book form, the professor said: ''lf Har-
riet gets a good black silk dress out of
it, she will do WE'LL not believing the
book would sell later, as he heard of
the rapid sales and Increasing demands,
he hoped they might be able to pay off
a mortgage on their home but when the
first installment came from the publish
er in the form of check for ten thou
sand dollars, he was Overpowered. He
did not know what to do with so much
money! Fortunately, he had honest
friends to advise him, and now their old
age has none of the anxiety and care
that poverty brings. and heard Mrs.
Stowe speaking of her housekeeper's
preference for this, that and the other
brand of groceries, with as much non
chaIance as if no mortgage had ever
threatened to send her and hers out into
rather uncharitable world | saw her
in Jacksonville. in a grocery store buy
ing her family supplies-not the most
romantic place to meet person. but
better on some accounts than her own
parlor, for testing coffee and spices. dip
ping into sugar and -four, nibbling at
butter and cheese, with the knowledge
that a mistake now may result in heavy
biscuit. poor coffee and wry faced hus-
band, for days to come, is apt to draw
out some points of character not often
mustered for drawing-room inspections.
She is woman about sixty-fve years
of age, | should judge, rather below the
medium height, with features strongly
marked and rather masculine her nose
struck me as of the investigating kind,
and ! think she has proved it to be such
in the instance of her defence of Lord
Byron, if at no other time. She is quite
we'll preserved, though her skin is far
from fair and her eyes faded but |
should be afraid of her temper if my fu-
ture lot was to do her bidding. Alto.
gether l was not prepossessed.
Her home is an unpretcnding cottage
house, surrounded by the lofty water
and live oaks, with their never-fading,
never-falling foliage, from which hangs
the gray and somber looking Spanish
moss, which gives them so Anticipated a
look that one almost fancies they have
been there ever since apple trees grew
in the garden of Eden. The yard has
many beautiful shrubs and plants, and,
altogether, it is charming home. She
owns about forty acres of laud, four oil
which are planted with oranges.
The next stopping place is eight miles
ahead, SO We have time to enjoy the beau.
ties of the river itself. and it is indeed
a lovely sheet of water. Its greatest
width is six miles. and in no place be
low Lake George. ninety-fve miles from
its mouth, is it less than one mile il
width, with a sandy bottom which har
bors no treacherous rocks to wreck oul
boat upon. While we watch the change
tul colorings of the water. white gull.
dive down and bring up their breakfast
in the shape of fat fish ; and now, will
a scream, the fsh-bird pursues the plum
derer, and, though less than half tn,
size of the gull, that bird seems over
powered with fear. and dropping it
prey, flies swiftly away. while its victo
turns its attention to others of the ma
rauding sea gull band.
But now our boat is heading towar,
landing and We see before us the pref
ty village of Hibernia, with its whit
houses with green shutters nestlin
among the oak trees; from the boat i
looks like quiet New England village
only We miss the church spire and, toe
a closer view shows the chimneys ali on
of doors, something never seen in tina
cold country, where even chimneys nigh
freeze up and refuse to draw. Decidin
that this is not New Englander's vi
lage, we concluded. from its name, thu
1t must be Irish then, too, to strength
en- our convictions, we fiud. on referenc
to our guide book, that Mrs. Flemin
keeps q boarding house there, an
breathes there Fleming with soul
dead that the chords Of 1.-The Green Is
, OF Erin wake no responsive thrill in Il
heart ?" The boat stops, a coil of ror
[, Is thrown out and boy. not much lar.
er than the coil he is struggling wit
succeeds, after many vain attempts,
! getting 1t over one of the strong pile
Looking lazily on. are half dozen m,
! IN whose hands the rope would be
- plaything but. though they see that
Is almost staggering the manly little f,
low. they offer no helping hand. Hum;
> nature Is the same the world over if