The Centre reporter. [volume] (Centre Hall, Pa.) 1871-1940, 1878-05-30
OVER THE FENCE

II was a shabby old mansion in
shabby old thoroughfare, which had
been fashionable street in its day, but
was anything else now. Grocery shops
and Junk shops had invaded IL The
square, white-painted, green.ohnded
dwellings, with rallied roofs and plaster
ed front doors, through which decorous
worthless in rufias and bob-wlgs had
once gone in and ont, shorn Of their
prestige now, and 6lveStsd Of shining
knobs and knockers, were turned into
tenement houses of the poorer sort.
Only the magnificent double row Of
elns, which had been the glory of the
street IN its prime, remained intact 10
deck its decaience. Thet owering splen-
dor Of their green masses rustled IN the
salt air now AS then, but mournfulness
mingled with the rustic Perhaps-who
knows p the elms were sorry for the
deserted old street. 1t Is not easy
always to fathom what lies at the heart
OF things, trees or men.
The shabby old mansion had belonged
TO General WeSson, a Revolutionary
hero, less conspicuous in history than
in the affections Of his townsfolk, who
TO do him honor had called the street by
his name-Wesson street. His residence,
once the finest In the neighborhood, hal
still this advantage over its dllapidated
conpeers, that il retained its old-ume
garden, large square inclosure laid out
in formal box-edgei beds and walks.
This garden had the odd appearance Of
having sunk slightly during some
convulsion Of nature, for It's surface lay
some five feet below the level OF the
street, which had been "tilled in" 1t
was walled on three sides. PeepIng over
the low fence which topped the wall,
passer by could look down into the very
heart Of gOoseberry bushes and peony
clumps. The wall itself was q tangle OF
honeysuckle, ivy, ani brier roses, and
altogether the garden had a sweetness
still, though its paths had run to weeds,
and lines Of wet linen tapped over the
rose circle which had been the pride of
Madame Wesson's heart almost hun
dred years ago.
So long past, so forgotten, were the
traditional dignities OF the old house, SO
poor anI decayed was its present seem
ing, that people experienced a shock of
surprse-almost indiguatiop-when told
thai the Moravian Society had bought
the property for a chapel and parson-
age. "What that old thing ?" they cried.
But the thrifty Moravians went their
wsy without minding much what peO-
pie said. They had little money 20 ex-
pend, and righteous horror Of debt.
The old place was cheap; they could
make Il do, they thought So o little
army Of work-people deployed upon the
premises, and presently all was changed.
The ground-foor, Invested Of partitions,
became large plain meeting-room.
The second floor was reserved for the
pastors dwelling. There was much
scrubbing and whitewashing, new paint
and plaster; blinds we're rehung, a tot
tering chimney rebricked, the fences
mended. Last Of all arrived a cart-load
of benches, another of furniture, and
Pastor Lubke and his family. The
neighbors. watching, saw them go in:
first the grave old pastor leading a little
boy. then long file of girls of graduated
heights, all clad IN black, worn, it was
whispered, in memory OF their mother,
who had died few months before. The
beds. chairs and tables seemed scanty
plenishing for so many, and lookers-on
wondered how they managed; but no
body found out, for the Lubkes were
quiet and reserved, saying little or moth
ing OF their affairs, but simply taking
things as they were, and settling into
the new home without discussion or
words.
All these things to watch did serious
ly incline Mr.. Erasmus Stockton
young man who, for his misfortune, had
little to do then except look out OF win
dow. His lodging next door command
ed view OF the long south side OF the
"Wesson house, as the neighbors still
called it, and of the whole garden, and
having, as l said, little to DO except look
out Of window. while waiting the report
OF the Patent-office on his 4" improved
air brake" he naturally looked out
great deal. Idleness is the root Of curl
osity as well rs Of mischief. II is aston
ishing how persistently he watched the
Lubkes and their doings, and how much
entertainment ne found in doing 80, all
the time persuading himself that he was
studying "Chitty on Special Pleas,
which lively work he held in his hand,
10 be sure, but over the top Of which
his eyes were forever straying 10 note
the comings and going next door.
"Hsavens what lot of girls !" was
his first reflection as he saw the sable
clad procession file up the walk. 'And
how much alike they are u was his sec
ond. They were strangely alike. The
four elder all seemed of the same age.
They were OF the same slender build,
with clouds of fiaxen hair hying over
their shoulders, the same pale blue
ewes, the same colorless skins. For q
long time Erasmus could FIX on no point
of difference by which to distinguish
them. but after a while he learned to
classify the four as "Sister," "The
Twins" and "Hilda." The twins were
always together, inseparable as Castor
and Pollux. "Sister was the central
star of the little ones. They were for
ever clinging to her skirts and follow
ing to help or hinder in her many house
hold tasks, from washing windows and
hanging out clothes to sweeping the
door-steps in the early morning. Hour
after hour Erasmus heard the hum Of
her wheel. He had seen it carried in
with the other things-a genuine old
fashioned spinning wheel, which an
antiquarian might have coveted for its
ouaintness, but which "Sister valued
for its use. 1t was she who took the lead
in reforming the garden, where disorder
aud neglect were giving place to thrift
and neatness, groundsel and pursley to
meas and beets, and where pot-herbs,
pinks. and multitudinous cabbaRes JOS
tied each other in true German fashion.
"Sister" took the lead, but every one
helped. Even the little ones could weed
and dibble holes for the insertion OF
infant roots, and in the cool of the day,
the sedate old pastor himself would
descend from his study, knife in hand,
TO prune, not in the most skillful man
ner, the fruit trees whose best days had
gone by with the best days of the old
house round which they grew.
Hilda was the prettiest Of the sister
hood. Her blue eyes had the advantage
of a fringe of long golden lashes; her