Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1877-08-15

WHINING lOl liOthOht1 olLo NiOWh huN
watches, leaving the rest to us. What is it
chat appears when we have shoveled away
The snowP A dark object. Is it bundle
ofragsP Is iL-or alas was it u human be-
ing? We raise it carefully and tenderly,
wrap it in one of the warm blankets with
which my wife's forethought has provided
us. Bring the lantern" | say huskiy;
and John holds it over the PROSTATE form
Of not rs we might have expected, some
stalwart shepherd of the hills, but over
that off poor shriveled, wrinkled, ragged
woman. I try to pour little brandy down
The poor old throat, but the teeth are so
firmly clenched that cannot.
Best get her home as quickly as may
be, Sir; the mistress will know better
what to do for her nor we do, if so be the
poor creature is not past help" says
John, turning instinctively, as we all do
in sickness or trouble, to womeHs aid.
So we improvise sort of hammock of
the blankets, and gently and tenderly the
men prepare to carry their poor helpless
burden, over the snow.
| am afraid your mistress will be in
bed" l say, as We begin TO retrace our
steps.
Never fear, Sir" says Donald with II
triumphant glance ut John; the mistress
will be up and waiting for us, She kens
Ladde dillna brings us out in the shaw for
naething."
I'm never say nought about believing
II dawg again." says John, gracefully
striking his colors. You were right and
| was wrong, and that's all about it; but
to think there should be such sense in II
animal passes me!''
As we reach the the avenue gate | dis
patch one of the men for the doctor, who
fortunately lives within stones throw
of us, and hurry on myself to prepare my
wife for what is coming. She runs out in
to the hall TO meet me. "Well?" she
asks eagerly.
I'VE have found poor old woman" |
say; but l do not know whether she is
alive or dead"
My wife throws her aims round me and
gives me u great hug.
You will find dry things and IL Jug of
hot toddy in your dressing-room dear"
she says and this is all the revenge she
takes on me for my skeplicism. The poor
old woman is carried up stairs and placed
I in warm bath under my wifc's direction !;
and before the doctor arrives she has
shown some faint symptoms of life; so my
wife sends me word. DR.. Bruce shakes
his head when he sees her Poor old
SOUL" he says; +" how came she out on the
moor on such II fearful night? l doubt
she has received shock, which at her age
she will not easily get over"
They manage, however. to force few
spoonfuls of hot brandy and water down
her throat, and presently II faint color
flick ers on her cheek, and the poor old
eye DIS begin to tremble. My wife raises
her head and makes her swallow the cor
dial which DR.. Bruce has brought with
him, and then lays her back among the
soft, warm pillows. Il think she will
rally now says DR.. Bruce, us her breath
ing becomes more audible and regular.
&" Nourishment and warmth will do the
rest; but she has received shock from
which fear she will never recover :" and
SO saying he takes his leave.
BY and by go up to the room and fine
my wife watching alone by the aged suffer
or. She looks up at me with toars in her
eyes. Poor old SOUL" she says; " am
afraid she will not rally from the cold ant
exposure"
! i 90 round to the other side of the bet
and look down upon her. The aged face
looks wan and pinched, and the scanty
gray locks which lie on the pillow are still
wet from the snow. She is IL very lttl
woman, as far as can Judge of her in he
recumbent position, and should thinl
must have reached her allotted three-scor
years and ten. "Who can she be? re
peat, wonderingly. "She does not belon,
to any Of the villages hereabouts, or w
should know her face; and cannot mag
inc what could bring stranger to til,
moor on such IL night
AS | speak u change passes over he
face; the eyes unclose, and she looks in
quiringly about her. She tries 10 speak
but is evidently too weak. My wife raise
her and gives spoonful of nourishment
while she says soothingly: Don't try t
speak. You are among friends; and whe
you are better you shall tell us all abou
yourself. Lie still now and try to sleep,
The gray head drops back YEARLY o
the pillow; and soon we have the satisftc
ton of bearing by the regular respiratio
that our patient is asleep.
You must come TO bed now, Jessie,
| say. IL shall ring for Mary, and sh
can sit up the remainder Of the night.
But my wife, who is Il tender-hearted sou
and born nurse, will not desert her pos
so leave her watching and retire to m
solitary chamber.
= When we meet in the morning find ths
y the little old woman has spoken II fev
words and seems stronger. Come i
with me now" says my wife, and let Il
try to find out who she is" We find he
, popped into II reclining posture with pi
; lows, and Mary beside her feeding her.
low are you now?" asks Jessie, benz
! ing over her.
= Better, much better, thank you, goo
- lady," She says in IL weak voice whic
- tremblcs with age as well us weakness
"And very grateful to you for your gooc
ness.
i, l hear ut once by the accent that she
. English. Are you strong enough to tie
me how you got lost on the moor, an
where you came from, and where 70
were going?" continues my wife.
- "Ah! | was going to my lad, my poe
y lad and now | doubt l shall never St
- him more says the poor soul, with
y long sigh Of WEAKNESS.
:, where is your lad, and how far hay
you Gomez"
), My lad is a soldier at Fort George; an
y | have come all the way from Liverpool
y or hin, nO1 him, hi, old hnp
" " blessing before he goes to the Indies
u And then brokenly, with long pauses
:, WEAKNESS and weakness, the old woma
IL tells us her pitilul story.
Her lad, she tells us, is her only remain
/ ing child. She had six. and this, ii
h youngest, is the on y one who did not d
:, of want during the Lancashire cotton fan
a inc He grew up fine, likely boy, Il
v comfort and pride of his mothers hear
:, and the stay of her declining years. b
strike threw him out of work, M
v unable to endure the privation and miser
in fit of desperation he listed" II
Il regiment was quartercd at Fort Georg
, and he wrote regularly to his mother. h
o letters getting more cheerful and hupef
q e every day, until suddenly he wrote that Ii
a regiment was ordered to India, and be-
Il ging her to send him her blessing, rs
v had not money enough to carry him
q Liverpool to see her. The aged molhe
% widowed and chidless, save for this OF
remaining boy, felt that she must look ,
If his face once more before she died. 81
begged from few ladies, whose kindne
a had kept her from the workhOuse, sut
| cinnI money Ia nnIrN hnr hu ll.Ain In G La