Vermont farmer. [volume] (Newport, Orleans County, Vt.) 1870-1877, 1877-05-04
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uNOt n NtuBKNDlt Oth utos Ato yoato heN
been many, and il had seen much that waa
sad and strange, aud some things that we're
more strange and joyful. One might mag |
inc that every branch could murmur his
tory--every leaf rustic tale. But the oak |
tree, IL il had a mystery 10 reveal, never
while il lived revealed IL; or, perhaps, OF
the many who had recined in its shade, not
one had possessed the power to extract sig
niicnnce from its muItitudnous and coasoless
prattc. Certain il is that no one, even Of
those who had known IL longest and most in
timately, ever dreamed there was a meaning
10 its low-toned talk.
The ocean alone was the oak trees conf
dant; they kept up nevor.ending conversa-
tion together. The tree opened its heart UNI
reservedly TO its nnmcasurably ancient friend,
who, in return, sent its soft messages 90 the
June breezes, OF beloved forth thunderous
warnings on the September gales. No wonder
that under tho guidance Of an instructor so
profoundly wise, Of experience so illimitably
vast, vet possessing, in all its vigor, the
freshness and power Of an immortal youth,
the oak tree should become inspired, during
the two or three centuries Of its existence,
with countless noble thoughts and lofty as
pirations, aud long to do something to prove
itself worthy pupil Of its mighty master.
But many years had passed, aud still the
opportunity delayed. In summer it spread
cool shade across the green-sward, and in
winter gave broken branches to kiudle poor
peoples fires more il could not do, aud yet
With this it was not satisfied. 1t yearned
for task commemorate with the height Of
its love aud knowledge gladly would it have
given up its life 10 the accomplishment Of an
object worthy Of its sacrifice; but alas it
was but tree. and doomed to stand forever
where it grew. Why had it not been made
man, speaking 10 language men could
comprehend able to walk amongst them,
and pour forth the truth and wisdom with
which its soul was overburdened2 In tho
lonely nights the oak tree tossed its great
arms tumultuously abroad, aud called to the
sea for comfort and counsel; and the sea
beat out a resounding answer on tho shore,
bidding it wait, and trust to the future to
bring the opportunity at last
One night, in the heart Of winter, the oak
stood looking out across the gloomy ocean,
its bare brown arms laden with newly-fallen
snow. The prospect was bleak and dismal
one, relieved only by the warm glow Of a
candle in the window of the neighboring cot
tage. BY the candle sat the young wife Of
Skipper Donne who owned the fastest schoon-
or on the coast and near at hand, in era
die, young child lay sleeping. The mother,
ever and anon, would turn her face to the
window. and shade OF anxiety would fit
across her sweet and thoughtful features but
when she looked upon the sleeping child the
shade would soften and tighten, and merge at
last into a mothers smile. As the hours
passed on, however, and still her husband did
not return. her eyes were turned more often
to the window than to the child. The oak
tree wished from the bottom Of its heart that
il could have soothed and comforted her ;
standing, as il did, on the plot of ground be-
longing to the cottage, it felt special inter-
est and affection for its inhabitants. 1t rus.
tied its crisp brown leaves, and sighed sym
pathiziDgly; but the wife Of Skipper Donne
never so much as looked at it, unless it were
to shudder at its cold branches outlined
against the wintry sky. The oak tree was in
despair, aud had not the heart to seek conso-
lation even from the immemorial friend who
sobbed and murmured among the rocks and
weeds on the shore. 1t had never felt quite
30 miserable.
All at once there sounded on the breeze
the noise of rustling sails, the splash Of waves
against the ships side, and the hoarse but
low-spoken orders Of the skipper to his men
The schooner brought up against the wind
aud cast her anchor. Dark figures moved to
and fro on her deck; then the boat was
launched, some heavy, solid object was low
cred into it, the men followed, and the skip
per took his place at the helm. They rowed
ashore with muffled oars, aud drew the boat
up. Then the heavy, solid object was lifted
out, and borne with difficulty up the bank,
and set down at the oak trees foot. 1t was
square, massive chest, heavily clamped with
brass and studded with nails. Evidently il
contained something Of vast value it is in
such receptacles as this that tradition places
the ilI-gotten gains Of Captain Kidd, and
surely there was room within its sturdy frame
work for whole fortune Of gold and silver
Perhaps, too, this chest was made heavier
still by the stain of innocent blood but, il
so, it Is a secret which the oak, in life oil
death, has never once revealed and therefore
let us be thankful.
"Lets anchor her here for the present, my
lads" said the skipper to his men. "Thero'i
n chance to divide our fortune till these
lWks of custom-house officers be off our
Ike. Let but this night pass, aud they 6nd
z8 in the morning safe in port and no tell-talC
last in the hold, and we may enjoy mer
= lGhristmas even yet. Come now, t
work !"
Thus urged, the men grasped the heavy
picks and spades they had brought with them
and in half an hour had made deep exca
walton directly under the oak trees roots
and here the mysterious chest found its rest
ing-place. Then the earth was shovelle,
back and stamped down fresh snow wa
brought and scattered over it, and soon no
a sign Of tho recent disturbance remained
The laborers paused, and their captain spok
again.
"And now, my lads" said he, "we par
for this night. But first let Us join hands
and swear never, in life or death, TO revea
what lies beneath yon oak tree. 1t belong
to US; we have labored and fought for it
let no outsider, then deprive US Of it. To
morrow, if the coast is clear we'll heave
up again; but if we must wait longer, let
be In silence and If any Of US should chance
meanwhile, to part his cable, then let the res
divide. Come. your hands %
The men joined hands accordingly, an
swore /; and even as the oath was spoken tn
topmost branches of the oak tree caught tn
distant sound Of horses hoofs advancing Of
the frozen road TO the southwark. IL strov
to whisper tho news to the skipper, as h
leaned against the trunk, but it could moi
The sound came nearer. Now the men ha
departed and gone down the slope to tho boa
The skipper remained awhile musing wit
folded arms. At last, in kind Of tancifr
humor, he addressed the oak tree:-
al have con6ded all have to thee, m