The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1877-08-29

The cars there is pleasant rush and
excitement about them that plsases
me we are flying so fast, so fast,
through white towns and over bridges
aud out into the vast Wisconsin prai-
ries--not smooth and rolling, like those
of Illinois and Iowa, but rough and
jagged, full of rocks and ragged thick.
cts, with little cabins set down here
and there like birds nests in the grass;
flocks of ragged children troop out of
these and stare at the passengers-the
dear, little, dirty creatures What an
inventory they take Of my Milwaukee
bonnet and dusty suit Here is field
starred with swamp lilies, scarlet lobe.
lias and wild asters. How l long to
get out aud gather them.
/ see by the towns on my ticket,
and | know by the warning whistle,
that we are within a mile of Fred's
home. The big manufacturing town
is already in sight the sand and saw
dust and coal smoke is flying Of
course have my head and shoulders
ont Of the window, and with my eyes
and mouth full Of cinders, am gaping
wildly about me.
The train CRATES, jars and stops. The
usual number of women with boxes,
budgets and parasols bundle off the
train. The teachers association is
held here this week, and tribe Of
laDk, sharp nosed, hungry-faced wo-
men get off also, teacher written all
over them, from their ugly hats to their
ugly shoes.
Can l believe my eyes +? Who is it
that steps up and shakes hands with !
two of the lankest, most wizened, old
maidest Of them all but my darling
Fred, with a smile as sweet as the
morning; takes their satchels and
shawls and turns to the lady who is
with him, whom l know by the ele-
gance of her dress and certain high |
bred sweetness about her, is his sister.
The oldest old maid says:
$50 kind in you Mr.. Langley, to
meet us. We should have been quite
bewildered in this place. So good in
you to take so much trouble"
"No trouble-most happy" but he
od( IL IdbllGE AbHSululy'
lie glances up at my window, and |
in spite of cinders and SCOT, MY caved
in bonnet, my hair all flying and my
cheeks burning like live Goals, he
knows me and drops the satchels.
Take the shawls moment, sis" l
heard him say, and in another second
he is on the train, leaning over my
seat, with my hand tightly in his ask
ing me dozen questions in breath.
Il am going to St. Paul." is all l
have time to answer and he replies,
"Good bye, Mignon, will see you
again y and be is off the cars as the
bell begins to ring.
l catch one more glimpse Of him as
the train moves off, helping his sister
and the old maids With their satchels
and their ankles like axe helves, into
the carriage; see him take the front
seat beside the enc with red poppies in
her bonnet, take the reins and the
horses are Off like birds. How I envy
that old maid, though she has wart
on her nose and looks like a last years
mullen stalk.
Something gets into my throat and
ch0kes me, and | refuse the orange the
man in the next seat offers me. Some
thing chokes me all the way to ST.
Paul
1t may be the green peach 1 have
eaten but think it is the old maid.
Why did | let him speak to me SO
familiarly, and call me "Mignon," his
old name for me ? Why did l not pull
my nand away?
l busy myself with such thoughts as
these until we have crossed the boun-
dary line and have entered Ainneso-
ia here tee scenery gets wilder and
wilder, the broad Mississippi winds
lazily along at the foot Of its tall
bluffs, with trees toppling uncomiorta-
bly, along their steep sides; close to
the car windows great walls Of rock
rise, oh, so high up in the air Tho
train balances dizzily along like a
rope walker over high skeleton bridges
and lodges Of limestone rock, where
it seems rs if the least jar would send
us down, down, / dare not think how
far.
l ride along in Il sort of mist until
we reach St. Paul. What a queer, elo.
waited town it is as if every house in
it had climbed up and sat on the top
of hill. l get out in a pouring rain,
greatly to the detriment Of my bones.
| stop at one Of the grandest hotels
there, the Metropolitan, and say to
myself spitefully:
81 will enjoy myself once, though !
starve the rest Of the year"
Rather a dreary magnificence, how
ever, for get tired the first day wan