Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1877-03-28
BESSIE AND LUKE.

giant, his big paws hidden away in fox
skin gloves, and his body we'll covered
by buffalo skin overcoat. He flung
the mail into the sleigh, united the po-
nies, and his shout of "All aboard
brought out solitary traveller for the
cold ride of eighteen miles over the
snow covered hills of Wisconsin.
"Weather is breakin' little just now,
but it has been awful on this route, ~
remarked the driver, as the ponies got
away. 81 kin git long fust rate with
five or degrees below, but when it comes
to ten in the valleysthere's a good fif-
teen on the hills. an the wind e'ena-
most cuts the ponies In two"
Wisconsin winter weather never
makes failure, and when a snowstorm
begins there is no let up until the
heavens have sent the last flake. The
snow was two feet deep either side of
the single track in the center of the
highway, and where the wind had a
good sweep there were drifts covering
the fences, with several feet to spare.
No other teams came after-none were
encountered. The fierce cold was too
much for farmers and ordinary trave-
lers. The United States mail had the
track to itself. Wrapped in furs, blan-
kets and robes. and with hot bricks,
steaming away on the straw, stage dri-
yer and traveller rode in silence for
miles. By-and-bye, as the ponies slack
ened their pace little TO climb long
hill, the driver pointed TO the right and
asked:
"D'ye see that log house up thar:
Bar it in mind an I'll tell We story"
1t was gloomy pile of logs, curtains
down over the windows and snow drift
ed clear TO the sills, and most of the
land around it was sterile hill or tang
led thicket. Over the hill and half
mile beyond, and the driver pointed
again and said:
"An' now take peep at that place
an III begin the story"
1t was small frame house this time,
partly surrounded by a wind-break of
poplar trees The house was old and
weather beaten. The windows were
covered with frost, the path to the gate
was hidden by drifts, and the only liv-
ing thing to be seen was a poor old
horse standing on the lee side of a hedge.
His ribs could be traced clear from the
road, and he greeted the ponies with
neigh, telling of hunger and lonesome
ness.
fThree weeks ago." begun the driver,
as he cleared his throat, "both o. them
places were full of cheer. The one
back there held an old man, his wife,
an handsome daughter. an this one
was occupied by bachelor named Luke
Warner. l don't know how he came to
live here alone, but here he was, an he
not only worked hard an took good
care o. things, but he had bite to eat
for all beggars an a good word for trav-
elers. Them folks back in the log house
were kinder new 10 this section. I've
hearn tell he was broken down mer-
chant, who had to give up everything
an leave New Ysrk. / saw him dozens
o. times, and he was high headed, even
if he was poor. He walked along like a
lord, and he wouldn't notice such as
me.r
The driver pulled the robes away from
his mouth little more, and went on
"Cracky to grashus. but didn't they
have handsome gal! She was as
trim as an angel, handsome as June
lay, and il was material that Luke should
fall in love with her. He was at least
.hirty-five, and neither good lookin'
nor edecated, but you can't tell when a
yal is goin' to love or hate. / 'spect it
riled the old folks to think she'd take
up with farmer. an I suppose they
forbid him comm there, leastwise that
was the talk along the road last fall. |
Luke pegged away same as ever, an the
,ai didn't look any the less handsome
Is saw her at the gate. As winter set
IN, didn't see much of any of them,
and by-and-bye the gossip began to die
1ut."
"How old was the girl?" asked the
"'Bout eighteen or nineteen, an she
had hair like gold. 1t just makes my
to remember her. Well, it
seemed that her an Luke were bound
20 marry. The old folks wouldn't give
in, an Luke fixed it TO be married down
here bit at the big red farmhouse. The
preacher was to be there, a crowd was
comin' to dance, an the gal was to slip
away from home an come down with
Luke, kinder rhand-in-Band, as the news |
papers say. The gal got away in the
svenin', walked over 10 Luke's, an he
had his horse and sleigh ready. 1t was |
he tust snow, but not very good run
ming. They got started all right, hap
py as two doves, but they had only |
turned out O. the yard when it began to
snow. / was out in it, too; an great |
snakes! how it die come down! 1t |
ust dropped down in chunks an
an in half an hour the road |
was out o. sight under six inches of
snow, an the wind was flingin' it ten
'eet high wherever it could strike"
The driver locked back over the lone
y road, drew long breath, and went
IN:
"The Lord only knows how it came
lbout, but Luke's horse fell into the
Itch and broke its legs, an then the
overs sot out on foot. They went right
lgin the drefful storm, determined to
each the red farmhouse. Right ahead |
here, just half way between the houses,
5 whar we found 'em. The storm ragged
ior three days, an in some places the
lrifts were ten feet high. When it
cleared away the gal was missed, Luke
was missed, an a gang of us sot out to
search the road We found the horse,
lead an stiff an then We knew it was
Ill up with the children. We had an
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