New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1879-01-22

OUR NEW NEIGHBORS At P0NKA.I
s.. .s.ss POG. 4
When I saw, the little house building,
an eighth, of a mile beyond my own, on
the Old Bay Road, / wondered who
were to bc the tenants. The modest
structure was set well back from the
road, among the trees, as if the in
mates were to care nothing whatever
tor :. view of tho stylish equipages
which sweep by during the summer
season. For my part. like to see the
passing, in town or country; but each
has his own taste. The proprietor, who
seemed to be also the architect of the
new house, superintendent the various
details of the work with an assiduity
that gave me high opinion Of his in
telligence and executive ability, and !
congratulated myself on the prospect Of
having some very agreeable neighbors.
1t was quite early in the spring, if
remember, when they moved into the
cottage-a newly-married couple evil
IDENTIFY; the wife very young, pretty, and
with the air of q lady; the husband
somewhat older, but still in the first
flush of manhood. 1t was understood
in the village that they came from Bal
timore; but no one knew them person
ally, and they brought no letters of in
PRODUCTION. Cor obvious reasons re-
frain from mentioning names.) It was
clear that, for the present at least, their
own company was entirely sufficient for
them. They made no advances toward
the acquaintance Of any of the families
in the neighborhood, and consequently
were left to themselves. That, appar-
emily, was what they desired, and why
they came TO Ponkapog. For after its
black bass, and wild duck, and teal, soli-
tude is the chief staple of Ponkapog.
Perhaps its perfect rural loveliness
should be included. Lying high up
under the wing of the Blue Hills, and
in the odorous breath of pines and
cedars, it chances to be the most en-
chanting bit of genuine country within
fifty miles of Boston, which, moreover,
can be reached in half an hours ride
by railway. But the nearest railway
station (Reaven be praised) is two
miles distant, and the seclusion is with
out q flaw. Ponkapog has one mail a
day; two mails day would render The
place uninhabiSable.
The village-it looks like compact
village at distance, but unravels and
disappears the moment you drive into
it-has quite large floating popula-
fSnva H1 1+ o11,,Ia tn thu ,o0roh nd
pickerel. Along the Old Bay Road, q
highway even in the Colonial days,
there are number of attractive cot
tages struggling off toward Milton,
which are occupied for the summer by
people from the city. These birds of
passage are a distinct class from the
permanent inhabitants, and the two
seldom closely assimilatc unless there
has been some previous connection. 1t
seemed to me that our new neighbors
were to come under the head OF perma-
ncnt Inhabitants; they had built their
own house, and had the air of intend
ing to live in it all the year round.
Are you not going to call on thcm?"
[ asked my wife, one morning.
"Whcn they call on u.s." she replied,
lightly.
But it is our place to call first, they
being strangers.
This was said as seriously as the cir
erlnlstancc demanded; but my wife
turned it off with a laugh, and / said
no more, always trusting to her intu-
itions in these matters.
She was right. She would not have
been received, and a cool "not home"
| would have been bitter social pill to
us if we had gone out of our way to be
| courteous.
saw a great deal Of our neighbors,
| nevertheless. Their cottage lay be-
tween us and the Observation-Disclosures he
was never TO lie met with by any chance
and caught frequent glimpses of the
two working in the garden. Floricult-
ure did not :tppear SO much an object
as exercise. Possibly it was neither;
maybe they were engaged in digging
tor specimens of those arrowhcads and
| flint hatchets which are continually
coming to the surface hereahouts.
There is scarcely an acre in which the
plowshare has not turned up some
| primitive stone weapon or domestic
utensil, disdaiufully left to us by the
| red men who once held this domain
on ancient tribe called the Punkypoaes,
J. forlorn descendant of which, one
Polly Crowd, figures in the annual Blue
Book, down to the close of the South
ern war, rs State pensioner. Iquote
from the local historiographcr.
Whether they were developing a
kitchen-garden, or emulating Prof.
Schliemann at Mycenn, the newcomers
were evidently persons of refined mu-
steal taste; the lady had a voice of re-
markable sweetness, although of no
great compass, and l used often to
linger of morning by the high gate
and listen to her executing an operatic
air, coniecturally at some window up
stairs, for the house was not visible
from the public road. The husband,
somewhere about the grounds, would
occasionally respond with two or three
bars. It was all quite an ideal Ar.
cadian business. They seemed very
happy together, these two persons,
who asked no odds whatever of the
community in which they had settled
themselves.
| There was queerness, sort of
mystery, about the couple which ad-
init, piqued my curiosity, though, as q
rule, have no morbid interest in the
affairs Of my neighbors. They be-
haved like q pair of lovers who had
run off and got married clandestinely.
/ willingly acquitted them, the one and
the other, OF having no legal right to
DO so; for, to change q word in the
lines of the poet,
1 F. *, is Il joy to think the lest
| - We may of human kind"
Admitting the hypothesis of elopement,
there was no mystery in their neither
sending nor receiving letters. But
where did they get their groceries? I
| do not mean the money to pay for
thcm-that is all enigma apart-but
the groceries themselves. No express
wagon, no butchers cart, no vehicle OF
!