Vermont farmer. [volume] (Newport, Orleans County, Vt.) 1870-1877, 1875-05-21
For the VERMONT FARMER
Chased BY Ku-Klux.


St. Clair and 1 were returning home from
n half-business halfpleasuro jaunt to New
Orleans. AS we swept northward through
the magnificent hills and wales, clad in their
early summer luxuriance, and just astir
with light, cool breeze. my companion
opened the flood-gates of poesy, and en-
riched the exquisite view with line upon
line of Bryant's and Lowell's melodious de-
scriptions of American scenery. In the in
tervals Of stoppage,-and they were many
attentive silence reigned adown the whole
car, while my enraptured friend eulogized
some grand, far away peak or broad eXpanse
of waving green.
was absorbed in listening. oh, what an
art it is to appreciate fully the thoughts of
other minds Our mental powers crave the
beautiful, las our physical powers demand rich,
pure food. You cannot safely cram ="
your mind with fine ideas, any more than
can you, in consistence with health, over
load your stomach with pastry. But let nat
ural appetite be your monitor; it is every
where regular and systematic. Read or
listen to poetry at intervals, or not Mt all.
And especially when you feel craving for
something beyond the everyday life of labor
and care,-when you are athirst for the
ideal,-drink deeply and long from the nee
tar OF "Kings in the realm of thought
drink to safety, but not to overlooking.
felt, as absorbed the gleanings of st.
Clair's busy memory, that poetry Is neces-
sity In certain moods of the mind; that fan
cy sometimes lays her hands on treasures
which we cannot find in the path of COM
mon sense. How the sentiment fitted the
occasion shall never forget the impression
conveyed by the recital OF LOngfellow's
"Twilight," rs we gided slowly into dark
depot. Far off in the gloom some one was
crossing the building with n Pickering Ian
tern. My friend was just repeating the fol.
lowing lines:
"And woman's waving shadow
Is passing TO and fro,
Now rising to the ceiling,
Now bowling and bending low"
and the effect was almost mysteriously coin
cident.
But this has nothing in particular to dc
with my story, and is, fear, but a tiresom6
depression, for which l beg pardon.
We were screaming and changing through
n small settlement, where the houses lay
confidingly within few feet Of the track.
St. Clair suddenly paused in the midst of a
delightfully."- musty description Of the de-
serted village" and, stretching his head far
out of the window seemed to linger doubt
fully in that tortuous position, rs if 10th to
draw back until some restless suspicion in
l. til gh In t,I l.,
circumstances. At length, however, he
drew inward, preceded by an exclamation
of surprise, and informed me. in less raptur-
ed tones than he had just used that the sta
tion-master was waving red flag, and mo-
tioning the engineer to slack speed. st.
Clair had hardly ceased speaking, when the
rattle and creak Of the brakes confirmed the
truth of this statement, and caused every
window not yet raised to go up with dash
and half hundred fnces to line the train on
either side, with various expressions of an.
noyance and curiosity. / leaned over and
attempted to obtain view between the pro.
files of st. Glars head and shoulders; but
that gentleman was so deeply engaged il
scrulinizing some suspicious looking object
or objects on the platform of the depot, tina
my efforts met with no generous sympathy
on his part, nor even provoked responsive
shove. Come, old fellow" l shouted il
his ear, can't you give your chum and seat
mate a peep into the unknown l want t'
examine that mysterious station-master.
My friend drew quickly back into the car
he looked troubled and frightened g.
don't know what TO make of some ugly look
ing fellows out there" he said; "pm afraiC
something is wrong in this" Snatchini
my opportunity, dove head and shoulder
through the window. and gazed in the drec
tion of the depot. There stood tho station
master with his red flag, and there, also
were the ugly looking fellows, who ha,
so disturbed st. Glars peace ofmind.