The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1878-11-05
THE OLD SCHOOL. HOUSE
ny HENRY l.. VANE.

1t stood by itself on the outskirts Of the
village, and had now fallen into decay.
The old porch through which we entered
was broken down, and no longer the honey.
suckle clambered over the sides. There
was m air of gloomy desolation about the
place, and the moaning-doves in the trees
without added to the gloomy picture. The
desks and benches were still there, but cov
cred with dust, and the spiders had hung
their gray drapery over them. The teach
er's table, raised on q platform, still stood,
and the inkstand, black and dry, had never
been removed. The Bible, from whose
ways opened, was in its accustomed place,
but like everything else, covered with dust
and mold.
Twenty years before, when q very young
BOY, l had sat many days and months con.
ming my lessons in that old school-room. II
was q different place then The warm sun
light came through the windows, and the
balmy breezes crept in laden with the per
fume of the flowers without. The butter
lies darted in and out of the windows, and
the little humming-birds lowered around
the honeysuckle which clambered over the
porch. The stream that dashed over its
rocky bed made q weird music which min
sled with the rustling of the leave of the
call trees without.
The teacher was a pale-faced, dark, sad
eyed woman, not more than twenty-five
years old, with a gentle manner that
seemed almost hopeless. She had come to
the village a strange and opened the school.
She called herself Mrs. Ray, and boarded
with the wife of the sexton of the church.
She evinced but little inclination for socia-
bility with the villagers, and generally re-
fused all invitations to social gatherings.
She was evidently a woman of culture and
refinement. accustomed to moving in polite
circles; and how she ever came to drift
into u quiet, little, out-of-the-way village
it was hard to tell. She happened to come
Just at the time we needed q school, the
old teacher having died, and SO, in q short
time, her school was full.
She was very gentle and the pupils
learned to love her. Her very gentleness
proved a restraining force, and the toughest
BOY bent readily to the rule Of Mrs. Ray.
1T worried us, however, to see her SO sad,
and we noticed, too, at any unusual noise,
or sudden appearing of the parents in the
school-room, her dark eyes would assume
an eager startled look, and her white face
would turn still whittier.
Twenty years had rolled away since, as q
little boy, 1 had gone to school to Mrs. Ray.
l had left the village for the city, and now,
for the first time, had come to visit the
home of my childhood
"Well, John" 1 said to the old sexton,
" let us take a walk now to the school-room."
All, sir, NAM is the day any one has
been there. 1t is never opened now, and is
fast falling to decay" said John.
And Mrs. Ray, John what became of
the pale, dark-eyed teacher ?"
Did you never hear, sir, the terrible
story ?"
l shook my head.
All, sir, that was q terrible thing. We
had to shut up the school-room because the
children refused to go there, and SO we
built a new one. The building fell to decay,
and the flowers around it died, and the
weeds grew apace. 1t is very desolate
there, SIR"
And what became of Mrs. Ray n
By this time we had reached the old
school-house. and having entered, were
IooK1ng around.
"We'n dust this bench, John, and sit
down, and you can tell me the story of Mrs.
Ray"
The sun was just sinking behind the hills
when we took our seats amid the dust and
cobwebs Of the old school-room. It seemed
to me that l could see the sweet, pale face
Of Mrs. Ray clearly defined against the dark
background of the gloomy place, and hear
the gentle tones of her voice.
well sir" said the old sexton, sit was
a terrible day when we found Mrs. Ray ly-
ing lead in the school-room, her throat cut,
and her dress covered with blood. The
children ran home and told the news, and
the villagers hastened there; but she was
dead, sir, and all we could do was to pick
her up and carry her to my house, where
she boarded"
ibid she cut her own throat ?"
"Oh, no, sir ; it must have been done by
q stranger who spent a night in the village,
and who was heard to inquire If n person
answering to the description of Mrs. Ray
lived here. You see, sir, her name wa not
Mrs. Ray at all, but Mrs. Vaudeville. The
man was not seen the next day, and was
never heard of again"
.What reason could he have for murder.
ing herr"
She had been engaged to be married to a
young man who was poor, and who her
father did not wish her to marry. He
wanted her to marry Colonel Mande.
vile, who was rich and influential. Then
the story reached her that the one she
loved had married n lady in England, where
he had gone to visit his father, and she
felt desperate when she saw it in the news
papers. She married Colonel Vaudeville.
but she was not happy with him becaus
she did not love him, and he was n fiery
tempered man, and she was afraid of him
In one of his RACES he told her one day
that the young man she loved was not
married at all, and that he and her father
had caused the marriage notice to appear
in the papers, and.had intercepted all their
letters to each other. Then Mrs. Mande.
III 4-11 ILL., AI-% x1.., x-oa 80
in her heart for him; that she never wished
to see him again. or her father either, for
they had broken her heart. When the
young man heard Of her treachery in
marrying another when she had promised
to marry him. he wrote her q terrible letter,
upbraiding her. He grew a sort of melan
choly, and one day he was found dead il
his room he had shot himself. Mrs. Man
deville stole from her house one night
when her husband wal out, and made he
way here, because she knew that it was an
out-of-the-way place. and none would b,
apt to find her. She lived in this village
two years, and we all learned to love her.
she was SO gentle and SO kind. But M,
wife says she looked terrible, SO white, ant
her eyes flashed whenever she spoke of hel
father and husband, and she used to say
II never can, l never intend to forgiv,
them, Mrs. Morrison; no, never never =
We can form no idea how her HUSBAND
traced her here-for we supposed that tn,
man was her observation-disclosures we had nj
clue to him after he left the village. TIL,
children had left Mrs. Vaudeville putting
on her bonnet to leave the school-room, ant
that was the last time she was seen alive
Her bonnet was lying beside her when W,
found her dead, nll bloody and crumpled
Poor young lady 1t was a terrible sight t,
see her lying there, her eyes wide open ant
filled with an expression of fright and agony