River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1878-05-02
Married bY Death.


A most horrible affair took place recent
Nv on branch line Of the radiating road
running from the great iron artery of the
P, w and B. railroad, up through the
pleasant valley of Chester county,
Pennsylvania.
1t was near Chadds Ford, and at &
beautifully romantic spot. There Is a
turbulent stream running between high
banks, on which stunted willows grow,
while further down, at the waters edge,
the weeping variety Of the same tree
dips its greenish tresses in the musical
water, which has hushed its riotous noise
to almost requiem since the death OF
George ricketts, and mollie Dolbell-as
fine q young man and as pretty girl,
the farmers say, " as you will find In all
Chester county" This is how they met
their death.
Mollie was one of those pink d-white
dairy maids that you sometimes meet In
the grazing regions of Pennsylvania.
Her hair was bonny brown, but with just
a CLINT of black in it, as if it had been
gently touched by ravens wing. She
was light hearted and as merry as the lark
with which she arose, the lark that carol
ed above her head as she loopcd her neat
dress about her enhancing ankles, and
skinned into the stone dairy where the
painted pans were ranged in rows and
the yellow spots of butter fiecked the
cool water.
The trouble with Mollie was that she
had two lovers-one George Ricketts,, a
sta'wart farmland, and the other Hugh
ODonnell sullen red whiskered man,
employed on the small drawbridge over
the Fox Run that we have spoken of.
This draw was seldom used except for a
lazy schooner that came up TO get terra
Gotta pipe from a mandatory above.
The two men knew that they were n
walls, and Mollie knew it, TOO, being sore
troubled in her white soul as she stood
Saturday evening before Lent, in the
porch of the house where she lived, and
promised to take ride on the morrow
with George-not ride in a buggy nor
a sail in boat, but rafting ride on a
hand car, practice which is frequent on
these lonely lines, whose rails vibrated
bu. seldom under the crunching advance
OF the engine.
1t is unnecessary TO describe the hand
car, that fits the rails, il is worked by
crank. AMI when started goes like the
wind. The car had been loaned George
by band of laborers who were making
repairs about mile above. He had dust
ed it neatly, and when the pretty girl
reached him by a short path through the
woods, he had arranged the vehicle so
cleverly, with cushion for Mollie, that
it did not seem unlike Clespatra's barge
She was in her Sunday sbest, and she
laughed lightly in the sunshinesas George
swung her to her seat and then leaped to
the handles.
There were no Sunday trains; there
was no danger.
Mollie crossed ner tiny feet, felt the cy
hilaration of the movement, as Georges
swelling arms produced the terrible mo
mentum, and saw her neat skirts blown
about by the rushing wind beneath the
platform. On, on they went, the glisten-
ing rails ringing, the bonny brown hair
blown about, and the Fox Run bridge
near at hand.
On that bridge Hugh ODonnell sat
smoking his pipe. The draw was open,
although no drifting schooner was IN
sight. Some evil bird had whispered to
Hugh the Sunday trip of his rival with
.Mollie. He determined on murder at
once. This is the reason the rusty draw was
open, while Hugh sat in his senlry-box on
the other side, smoking his pipe and watch
ing up the convergin9 lines of metal that
seemed like satin ribbons tied in bow
by the perspective.
He did not have to wait long. First
came the rumble-the far away sound
that dies away while it increases-and
then, swinging suddenly around curve,
the hand-car bearing the girl he loved
and man he hated He drew another Whit
of smoke, and looked calmly at the tum-
brill of death, with its arms whirling
wildly, since George lad trusted TO the
steep grade and the appalling accelcra-
ton he had given the machine to accomp
llsh the passage of the bridge, and had
sat down alongside of Mollie with his
arm around her waist.
Just as they neared the draw, which
was never legally allowed open on sun
day, he turned his head, and his face
became white. Mollie felt the chill
circle her waist az his blood froze in his
arms. He sprang to his feet, and tried to
seize those revolving handles, which were
only blur and mist.
He thought of throwing the girl off,
but before he could think of anything
else, the car took the leap, and as Hugh
O'Donnell sat smoking in his sentry-box,
he saw the upturned faces, pallid with
agony, but pressed close together, 60
down with the handle to the deep pools
and cruel rocks of the Fox Run, and as
he did so he said:
Course you" and lighted another pipe.
They found him there, but mad-not
raving mad, but in that Emphatic state
of mania which is beyond reach. On the
shore below, held by the gnarled roots OF
a willow, were discovered the bodies OF
George and Molie. In the moment OF
death she had thr wn her arms about
him, and as the sunlight filtered TIN ough
the surging branches and fell upon the
upturned faces, they seemed like bride
and groom in the sleep of happiness. Sc
they were, but Death had been the min
lister.