The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1875-09-09


ended by reward, and emo questions
asked" fer the recovery OF the family
relic. The case created some excitement
of interest; no response was made by the
thief. and young Geoffry would fain con-
tent himself with modest substitute on
his next birthday.
The steamer swept on up the river, flags
dipping in honor of the first day of the
season, music piping, the blood dancing in
GeOffry's veins; past the leafy heights of
West Point, through the Storm Kings
massive gates, and thence, like the spent
impulse of sluggish current, to the Al
bany wharves.
That night Geoffry spun along the rail-
way, and next morning stepped on board
the Champlain boat at Whitehall. He
seemed to have followed departing winter
too closely; the sun was veiled by thin
clouds, the air was raw, the vegetation
pale. The few sportsmen who were his
travelling companions possessed a certain
picturesque independence of circumstance,
while he was the first forlorn bird of
summer in advance of the season.
A long wharf, flanked by wooden
building, a village on the hill beyond, a
group Of idlers in muddy boots watching
the steamboat disgOrge slim youth carry
ing q Russia leather bag, and followed by a
trunk, as sunset flushed the lakes blue to
rosy pink. In the foreground stood an old
man carrying whip, and peering about
with keen eyes beneath bushy brows.
Geoffry Vernon heard this remark,
$50 you've took to summer bOarders,
hey p from clerk.
"Why, yes; my old woman thinks
she'd like to try 'em spel.'' replied the
old man, rubbing his horny palms TO-
gether.
Then Geoffrv knew by intuition that he
was no other than Mr.. Abraham Knolls,
and vague sense of hOmesickness stole
over him. Was this feeling due to the
| rickety wagon, with its inevitable buffalo
skin, the awkward greeting of Mr.. Knolls,
or the cold shadow Of night gathering
| the village and lake were left far behind.
When Geoffry expressed surprise at
the distance inland, Mr.. Knolls said, im-
passively,
Z. We are out of the village bit. You
will like that all the better, young gent, if
township
"Where is the postoficer' asked
| Geoffry.
| MI. Knolls chuckled. "Got a sweet
heart, mebbe. There amt no post-of1ice
within seven miles. The stage can fetch
your letters. sir, and we'll be comm and
goin' often.'
A wild impulse seized Geoffry to leap
| from the vehicle and retrace his steps.
1 What! and be laughed at by Uncle Geoffry
| for baby? It would have been better
had he obeyed impulse. He hesitated /;
4 the wagon creaked on; the damp scent of
pine-trees was waited from the gloomy
1 = oI 1ol,n fo ~ xnf
wild flowers ascended from the hOllows "a
squirrel ran along the fence. Nature was
speaking to Geoffry. and although her
Language was but half ineligible, like the
rush of the swift little river in the ravine,
he obeyed her. The way became more
lonely and wild; they had crossed bridge,
and the horses paused as if from habit, at
4 q spring brimming into trough. A man
emerged from the thicket, looked down
the valley, and whistled peculiar clear
note. Then he approached the wagon.
The horses pricked their ears the yellow
dog skunk beneath the vehicle apprehen-
sively. Mr.. Knolls was evidently discsn-
certed by this addition to the party.
(" You back. Matthew? s'p0se there
amt no use in askin' where you've been
s last,
= Wandering up and down the earth,
like Job, daddy was the growing re-
spOnse.
This is my only son, Mr.. Matthew
Knobs" !" continued the old man, turning
to Geofry.
The latter stared at the intruder with all
of city boys natural shrewdness OF obser-
vation, and decided that the son was
rough. surly person, with the oushiest
beard and funniest hair ne had ever seen,
nor was ms appearance improved 9y cas'
IN one eye. Inns scruuny seemed uisP,eas.
ing 20 tne o9Ject. wn0, scownhs AZ oeoi'
] Try, INQUIRED, aoruptiy' q
What are ye doin' with him!"