Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1877-01-31
THE LANDLADY OF THE GOLDEN
SHEAF. nads sf

euuCHUiOII was IlllSlICu dU MIS-. Mluulc-
toms Seminary for young ladies, the
most genteel school in our part of
Hampshire. l was seventeen, and the
eldest of ten children. My father
farm was but a small one, held on
lease from our rich neighbor Dickson,
the principal man in our parish after
the Squire. He had two farms leased
from him beside my fathers, and a
large one which he titled himself, kept
a retinue of men and maids, did the
best blowing, turned out the finest cat
tie, and made vast deal of money by
his dairy.
His wife had died before was born,
and his house was kept in prime order
by the youngest of his aunts, Miss
Wildwood. He had neither son nor
daughter but Master Harry, whom
everybody thought sensible and very
handsome young man, and not half so
purse-proud IS his father. Being our
landlord and next-door neighbOr,
Farmer Dickson took a great deal of
interest in us. He said the family was
too Large for my father and mother to
manage without advice that providing
for them was his chief difficulty, and
hearing that distant relation of his,
Mrs. Williams, landlady of the Golden
Sheaf, wanted well-brought-up girl,
not as a servant, but to help in the
housekeeping, they thought it might
be good situation for me. S8
To tell the whole truth, there was
another reason for my going. Before
| left school, Harry Dickson began to
pay me attention. Not that l encour-
aged him much, but he would come
after me, and it did not please his
father. The old man thought his son
should look higher than poor farm
er's daughter, and my parents, having
good bit of pride, were just as angry
when they came to know it. My father
said he hoped no daughter of his would
tempt Young man to disobey his
father. Ny mother said she hoped
had more spirit than to wish to marry
into family who did not think us
good enough for them. OF course my
father and mother were right. gave
Harry back his ring, but it was after
good deal of crying. He swore he
his father should disinherit him; and,
to let farmer Dickson and the whole
country see that we were not set on
trapping his son, it was settled that l
should go to Mrs. Williams.
My father went one day to consult
her, and, when all was agreeable, he
took me and my trunk respectfully in
the London coach, which then passed
through Chatford, our village, and
stopped at the Golden Sheaf. For a
country inn the house was large and
handsome. 1t had every convenience
Of yard and stabling, good garden, a
fine orchard, and some hundred acres
of corn and meadow land. 1t was
situated on the highroad where Surry
and Hampshire meet. The ground
was high: and from the inns upper
windows one could see many mile
along the road and over the county.
Stage coaches and carriers wagons
stopped there; so did the country
hunts and the travelling gentry, corn
and cattle dealers on their way to Lon
don, farmers to and from the market
town, and all who came or went spoke
we'll of the good housekeeping, the
fair dealing, and the general civility
of Mrs. Williams.
She was tall, thin woman, upright,
active, and still handsome, bordering
on sixty. Her black hair was but
thinly sprinkled with gray. She had
a good deal of the gentlewoman in her
manner, always wore a black tabnet
gown, tamboured apron. and a cap
of Nottingham lace, which was fine
enough in those times. But there
was something in her look so stern
and rigid that made one careful OF
ones doings before her. Her story,
which we had heard in private from
Father Dickson. was both sad and SIN
gular. She had been brought up III
one of the most respectable inns In
the County of Cornwall. and married
rich farmer. He left her early a
widow, with an only daughter. She
managed the farm well, however, and
was prosperous woman. Her
daughter grew up beautiful girl, and
the mothers heart was wrapped up
in her; but the son and heir OF d
neighboring Squire induced her to
elope with him, and marriage into his
high family was not to be thought OF.
Mrs. Williams was a woman OF high
spirit, strict and proud. 1t is said the
poor girl never dared let It be known
where she lived, for fear of hel
mother; she sold her house and farm
left that part of the country, bought
the Golden Sheaf, and she set herself
up where nobody knew of her family
or history; she had been doing vel
for many year.
Stern as she looked, Mrs. William:
was kind to me, and did my best t
please her. There was good deal o.
novelty and life to be seen ABOUT th'