The Centre reporter. [volume] (Centre Hall, Pa.) 1871-1940, 1877-02-22
A Mountain Daisy.

We had Travelled together for many
weary mile. | was ON my way to my
usual summer retreat in the mountains,
hut even before | took the stage coach
nv journey by steam had exhausted me,
50 that was II no humor 70 join IN the
h,larity of my fellow travellers. We
joltei and plunged and crawled over the
hills to the paradise beyond; and while
they talked and jestei, and oh'd and
ah'd, as travellers VIII. we kept an I'M
broken silence-this fellow passenger
and striving IN yain to shut out the
huobub within 10y gazing upon the sweet
solitude without; and the bond Of sym
pathy between this straight, stern, sol
dierlv, middle aged man increased when
/ found that he was determined 10 rid
himself of the gooj-humorei confusion
about him by climbing on the top Of the
stage.
While we we're changing horses, he
clambered sp among luggage SO eons.d-
erable Is 70 prevent the usual accomOda-
ton for deck passengers, and my face
must have shone a sort Of despairing
envy, for he looked over and said !:
There Is room, If You VIII venture up
here; but the evening AR grows chill. Ii
Won are not afraid Of taking cold -
- / am AFRAID OF nothing" I said,
desperately, " "but this gahble and din. ="
He put down lis hand, and mp
climbed With MS p9rtman.eau and
shawl and an old mail bag he compassed
me comfortably about, and presently
the stage joite1 on. | was alone with
my nOuEta rs, with the night, anil the
stars, and my fellow passenger, who
counted FOR nothing. because he neither
moved nor spoke; his side face Was as
rigid as il carved from one Of the bowl
ders bv the wayside.
Ii must have been five miles after this
that this bit Of bowlder startled me by a
slight movement found that he was
bending forward, gazing eagerly, with
his whole soul IL his eyes, upon the
window Of an old farmhouse on the
outskirts OF the village. 1t was one Of
the upper windows. half raised, and the
head Of a woman appeared there III a
shadow 50 deep that not a feature could
be distinguished; but as we slowly pass
Cd, an almost conyulsive sigh escaped
the lips of my fellow traveller. He
raised his hat from his head. Then
plainly saw the woman s face, for it seem
ed TO start forward suddenly, and even
the dim starlight revealed a surprise
upon It that almost partook of terror.
No longer young, but still beautiful,
that face was stamped with a melancholy
50 profound it haunted me. / looked at
that OF my companion. II was sunk
upon his breast, and Just then / saw the
sweet young moon climbing up into the
sky. And / thought what a pity it
would be if he should look up and see
the new moon over ms left sh, alder
The thought was so tOrmenting to me
that [ spoke on the impulse Of the mo-
ment Don't, sir" / said" don't
look over your left shoulder ut the
moon. Look over your right shoulder,
and wish. 1t is a good omen, they say. "
he started, paused as If 10 gather the
meaning Of what / said, then looked over
his right shoulder at the moon his face
was full OF strong emotion, and his lips
moved. Then he turned to me, his face
melting into one of those rare smiles that
are so nice because they are so few, and
stretched over his hand. Thanks, +"
he said, and we rolled up to the door OF
the hotel, where Mrs Aiken was waiting
for me, with her comfortable carry-all
filed with the usual parcels and packages
for the farm.
But she could not find n welcome for
me, 50 taken up was she with my fell
low passenger. Her comely, motherly
face was all agape upon his straight,
stiff form, as he lifted me down and
said goodbye, and disappeared in the
corridor beyond.
Wa'al," !" she said, drawing a long
breath, that's either Major Jacques or
his ghost. That does beat everything.
After all these years-Bord o. mercy, if
that don't go ahead !"
And who is Major Jacques p / said
at last, finding myself the prey to de
vouring curiosity. "Do, please, Mrs.
Aiken, tell me who is Major jacques p
Well, child, he made a sight O.
rouble here good many years ago,
but l can't say rs it was his fault Yeu
may blow your lungs out sometimes to
boil kettle, and then, agin, spark
from pipe II set a hay rick in blaze.
Good Lord I / wonder if he's come after
Daisy M'Lean? He'll find her a broken
down humbly critter now, but a purteir
gal than Daisy the sun never shone
upon her skin was as white as milk,
and her eyes like the stars up there,
and the city folks that come out here to
board christened her Daisy, though her
name WAS Hanner-Hanner Hitchner
and spite of everything she would go
and throw herself away on Hugh M'Lean.