Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1877-09-07


about her, found that nobody was in,
jured, and came back and told her so
And now, how about Brentford? F.?
asked.
They can't expect him back if the
trains don't run, she said, with q
worried face. But it's a great mis-
tortune-they are so particular.
There is DR.. Wilder, said 1; stay
here and l will see that it is all
right. | stopped to speak with the
doctor, and half an hour afterward
l I'D returned with a sleigh full of
robes and hot soapstones. There is
to be no demurring this time, said |.
Your cousin Marcia's cousin Fe I'd
son can take all proper care of you
in one sleigh, and DR.. Wilder and
this young gentleman from Brent.
ford
Oh. yes, Mr.. Tiffany. Isn't this
dreadful, Mr.. Tiffany?
In another. The sleighing is
psssAble; we shall reach Brentford
by twilight. And you will keep
your situation-or get another. She
hung back a moment. l hesitated
no more, but took her by her two lit
tie shoulders and deposited her
among the furs, and tucked them all
in about her., and as by that time
coaches and sledges aud all sorts of
conveyances were on the ground for
the others, | touched whip to the
horses, aud we were off, the other
sleigh behind us.
Do you know the way? she asked,
timidly.
lean inquire, | answered.
Straight ahead, was the instruc-
tion given at every farmhouse gate;
and straight ahead we went, gay
and laughing now and full of enjoy,
ment of the pleasant, bracing air,
the bells, the swiftness. At length
we reached some crossroads, where
the wind had overturned the sign
post. Which one of the roads was
the right one? We took the most
travelled way, at venture. 1t was
the wrong one. 1t led us on and on,
aided by a pumpkin, who gririned
and said, GAY, ay," as we asked if
we were right for Brentford. The
sky was already. cIouding over, and
it was late in the afternoon when
we reached village at whose little
inn we stopped for refreshments / in
sisting upon it,the other sleigh push
ing on rather than wait. We were
far out of the way, the landlord told
me; we must have made the mistake
dozen miles back at the cross
roads, but yet, if we changed our
horse and persisted, it was quite pos
sible to reach Brentford that night.
For my companions sake it must be
done. Warmed and fed, and with
additional robes, we were on our
way again. 1t was no use to stop
and speculate over DIR. Wilder and
Mr.. Tiffany; they would doubtless
find out their error and get on the
right road in time-before the snow
thlckeued, it was to be hoped. II
was beginning to snow, gently but
steadily; presently found the wind
was rising. I thanked heaven and
Marcia for my umbrella, spread it,
and secured it behind rs. Before
long it was dark. Little Rose had
grown very quiet; l myself scarcely
spoke. | was anxious concerning
her exposure to the gathering storm
concerning her solicitude. We were
in a hill country; now and then q
light twinkled far up some slope
but we passed nc houses at all; oul
hearts rose aud sunk with the un
winding lengths of the rising and
sinking road. The snow still fell
and now it was drifting sadly; ev,
erythiug was wierd and strange; ii
was no longer possible to distinguish
the way. left it to the instinct oi
the horse; be stopped stone still, al
last, in the middle of a hill pasture
near the edge of a wood, unable tC
proceed another rod. l strnek my
last match aud looked at nay watch
it was already half-past twelve.
There was no help for it. Here
we were to stay till morning, if We
lived so long. was full of appre
hension, and although / had done my
best, l was mortified to the quick.
1t was not your fault, Mr.. Fergu
son, said Rose, tremulously, l Ough
not to have veotured it.
And you can't imagine what Mrs
Burbank will say, exclaimed, reek
lessly.
She burst out crying. Oh, wha
shall l do! what shall do? she said
got out aud broke down th'
DRIFT a little before the horse, ant
then led him cautiously just within
the wood. How comfortable, criet
Rose between her sobs; it is almos
like getting home!
1t Is the hearth of the great moth
er, said |.
1t was going under real shelter
the wind hushed; the cold sOftened
only the great pine boughs murmul
ed aud the snow fell quietly. l IN
hitched the horse, blanketGd him
broke birch boughs as l could 40
his bed, and bent and bound other
partially over him. As l was 0oin
it l heard voices. / listened, halloC
ed; aud the reply told me that th
other team found itself in exa ctl
our position. Crying that / woul'
be with them directly, l went bac
to Rose. DR.. Wilder and his frien'
have brought up in the wood, toe
said l.
l heard them, she said.
And that is much more cheeiiul
Oh, not in the least, she said; Mrs
Burbank will never overlook it any
way. And it will kill DIR. Wilder
too-that old man in this winte
storml
Well, really, I don't know that
am to blame for Lis being here, sal,
!.
Oh, l don't mean that, she cried
starting forward. Oh, 1 don't know
what ! do say-what with the disas
ter, the ride and the worry. Dom
don't be vexed with me.
Vexed with you'll said l, how alb
s,rd if II vvare nossible, the poor