Connecticut western news., 1878-11-27
Paul Jones.
A TRUE STORY.

s-S E
 Twas about eighteen years old, and my father lad hired me out. toaa lumber merchants at GlennslFhlls. who had sent me down the river into the Catshlls as onesof gang for cutting timber and getting out hemlock bark. It was fine to hsw down the great trees, and to hear them fall with crash that seemed 70 shake the hills, and we liked rolling the great logs, all singing in chorus, and the building of roaring camp-fres at night, with plenty of songs and stories and jokes as we sat around them.
 The river then was very unlike what 1t is now. There is still plenty of will derness among tue Catskills, more than there was twenty or thirty years ago. For then there were tanneries in every valley, but now they all have disappeared, and the big hemlock- trunks, stripped of their bark, lie rotting in labyrlnths on the long slopes, covered with . dense new growth. At that time, however, half the course of the Hudson was wilder ness. Here and there at long intervals were small towns and villages, and farms and manors were, seen, where the banks were less high and shaggy. No railroad trains rushed along the shores ;ne steam whistles broke the silence no great three-story steanboats thundered by, thronged with people. The river was a ariet place in those days. Light, grace ful slopes, and slow-moving barks and arks were all the craft we saw on it's waters, excepting the little steamboats, not much larger than one of our small tugs, that came up sometimes, and were still looked npon with a touch of wonder.
 Our boss was frst-rate fellow, and one Christmas day he let us have holi- day and a big sleigh ride. All the girls of the country round were invited, the snow lay just deep enough, and. the sleighing was capital.
 But ! was sulky and would not go, be- cause I'd been "eut out" as we call it, with the girl wanted to take. I was very fond of still hunting, and in my vexation went off to look for deer.
 Hunted all day, and found no deer they had grown shy and scarce, and had gone away over.the mountains toward Hunter. I had a long chase over thei1 tracks, up the Glove to Haynes Falls and away over to the top of PlauterkiL Glove, and then along the pass by the shoulder of Indian Head, to the side ot Overlook Mountain. It was coming or toward night, with wild sunset blaz ing, and gusts of wind springing up and began to think of getting back, or at least, of finding some place to sleep for, in my eagerness for deer, I had gon, toofaf to return to Catskin village tha night. I thought might get as far a Plauterkin or Haynes Falls, where ther were few houses.
 I was turning to go up the pass again when, just on the edge of the hemlocl forest, under ledge of rocks on tn mountain-side, I saw small quarry where few paving stones had bee taken out, and close by smoke curlinl into the air. I looked sharp, and, sur enough, there was little hut tucke under the ledge; just shed, so rougl that itseemed part of the rock, with
 stone wall, and few slabs to roof i over.
 The sun was setting angrily down tn valley, behind the distant Shandake range, and pouring on the nearet mountains great dashes of orange light and the purple chasms between, and tn black pines and hemlocks that stood or against the heights where the snow ws sky -blnes and gold, all had @ strange an stormy look, I was just thinking ho handsome those mountains were, and ', what dang Fur carcs they had, as
 they meant to have wild night of
 among themselves. Overlook had h white cap on, and the others were gatI ering mist around their tops. The da had been still, but now strong win blew from the hills, and drove the lool snow in fine powder before it. W, inst noticing all this, you know, and sa
 ing to myself that there was not m
 n1enf to snare. and nnuek hurrv or tf