Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1877-05-23

Mrs. Watts Dream.
1t is now many years since | was travel
inc in the great valley of the Mississippi
towards the north; but ut the time | am
speaking of, railroads were unknown, and
50 bad were the thoroughares that wheeled
vehicles in many places were quite out Of
the question. So |, like many others who
peddled various kinds of wares, was COM
PEELED to make my rounds on pack
horse, and put up with such accommoda-
tions for myself and beast us chance and
circumstances furnished.
| can assure you that these were, for the
most part, none of the best, us taverns
We're, "like angels visits, few and far be-
tween," in those days There were no
smart hotels in the backwoods, with bow
ing landlords, and ready hosters, and n
comfortable bed in q room all to yourself
Nothing of the kind. You had TO rough
it, or 90 further and fare worse, perhaps,
But in spite of such Inconvenience, there
was wild charm in that kind of journey
ing-a sense of independence about it.,
which one has not the least idea of, in
these days of lightning trains, whirlod
along at the rate of sixty miles an hour,
like II mouse in trap that is tied to the
tail of mad dog. You stopped or start
ed when you pleased, and if you did not
90 quite so fast rs now, you had II much
better chance of getting safely TO your
journeys end.
There was another great charm for me
in those old travelling times. What could
be pIeasanter at the end Of n long days
travel than to fall in with a set of jolly
fellows who made half circle round n
great wood fire, whose backlog was part
of the trunk of tree felled in the forest
by which we were surrounded and shut in,
as it were, from all the world, and pass
the time in stories that were often varied
by personal experiences, which proved that
the travelling merchants then were to the
full as cute as the smartest Yankee peddler
who now practices with his soft sawdcr on
rural simplicity? Some time | will record
Il few of these revelations, for AM quite
sure they would be us interesting us the
thundcrous literature of Mr.. Triptolemus
Muf,, OF the silkcn sentimentalities of that
sweet authoress, Carrie Cabbage
Well, on the evening | have specially
referred to, | arrived, hungry and tired
enough, mt old Hans Dohar's shanty--for
it was little better, though digniied by the
name Of tavern. Having attended to my
horse, | entered the common room, and
Joined the ring of guests who were smok-
ing, drinking and talking all at once, in
every kind of known language, it seemed;
and their appearances were as different as
their dialects. There was the meagre,
chattering, grimacing Frenchman, the
heavy, phlegmatic Dutchman, the German
with great, gray, watery eyes, and large
meerschaum, the stolid, grave English
man, the rough, huge-tisted backwoods
man, the kcen-eyed, hatchct-faced Yam
kee, the non-descript wanderer, no one
knew from where, or to whittier, or for
what purpose, as well as others who re
quire no particular mention. A heavy
storm had driven these guests to the shell
ter of Hans Dohlar's roof, and us it was
impossible TO accommodate all of them
with beds, or even "shake DOWNS ii
seemed tactly to be agreed that the night
should be passed away rs pleasantly as
might be, around the fire. So one story
after another was told, songs sung, and
rough and rea ly wit awakened peals o.
laug ghter which drowned the howlings Of
the storm which still ragged wildly with.
out.
The flow of whiskey at length began to
ttrith II tI,o Of fall. Il,
fact. most of us were doing in arm chairs
when laundering knock ut the door
startled lis from the enjoyment Of our first
dreams. Old Hans lifted his great shock
head from the table, and mutlering, who
ter daylil ish dis? " staggered to the door
ind unbarred it, when II stalwart young
fellow, with II gun in his hand and wild
turkey slung over his shoulder, made his
appearance.
Ach! mein Gott, ish dis you, Mister
Schmidt? Wy, vat upon earth prings you
our way at dis time o. nightP" asked Hans
in astonishmcnt, us the young fellow flung
down the bird, placed his gun upon II rack
and then deposited his own person on a va.
cant seat.
Fact is" said the youth thus address.
ed, lost myself in the woods, and only
found out your place by accident. had
been shooting all day, but without luck,
till Just before dark, when | managed to
kill that turkey, which, however, | should
have failed to hit, hadn't Seth Sprowl,
down at Barker's hollow, given me n
charge or two of the new-fanglcd patent
shot that he's got little of from over the
water.n
New tangled shct!" exclaimed several
voices; "why, what sort of shot is that
Never heered on it, nohow."
We'll, all ! know of it is, it goes
straighter to the mark than any other. As
to the reason, can't sec that. All I do
know is, that have been shooting all day
with this Sort and he exhibited few
shot which lay loose in one Of his pockets,
land hit nothing, scarce; but one charge
of Seth Sprowls brought down that fine
fellow there, which will make breakfast
for the company, if you'll have it cooked"
Let me look at the two kinds of shot
think | can explain the difference be.
tween them," said n little weazen-facod
shabbily-dressed, oldish man, who, during
the evening, had sat close TO the fire
wrapped up, as it We're, in his own
thoughts he seldom spoke or smiled
He held out his hand rs he said this, and
the young man dropped into his skinny
palm specimens of both kinds of shot.
well, now, gentlemen" remarked the
old fellow, 81 have been listening to al
your stories for the last few hours, and as
l don't want 10 partake of that turkey
without earning my share, if you've ne
objection I'll tell you a short story which
these little spheres of lead remind me of
and the best of it is, that my story will bt
n true one, though some of you, dare say
will doubt it.
So fresh pitcher of whiskey was pro