The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1879-02-12
THE UNLUOKY HOUSE.


= That is the place, bailie. A very
puaueky house, sir | would not advise
f4n TO buy it.
+" Pooh You don't expect an old
IraFeler like me 10 be Influenced by such
huRbear ~
That is between yon and your own
feft. sir; but, to tell the truth, it was
ost because you have travelled, and
en- many an up and many down, that
expected you to be influenced by an
uncanny name. It is the folks that have
no changes, that have no fore-knowl-
edge. I'm not superstitious man my
Belf. but there are things worth minding
yes, indeed r.
The two men had checked their horses
before a large gray stone house, stand
ing on the slope Of hill that would
have been dreary in any eyes but those
OF Scotsmen. Rugged and bleak, with
dumps of dark fr here ana there, and
patches OF dull. heather invading the
brown bare bits Of pEsture-g ground. The
ars had been thickly planted round the
house, and had in the course OF three or
fonr generations overgrown any attempt
at gardening there had ever been. In
fact, nothing now remained OF it except
weedy, gravelly walk that led to q
black lake, which spread itself toward
the moor, and was gradually lost in the
bogs and marshes aroundA
"Those hills in the background and
this marsh ought to furnish good sport,
Brodie."
"Ay, but birds and red deer know
many a thing beyond our kenning. The
deer have left the bills, and the birds
have found cannier places to build than
those dark, Shiny sedges. Whiles they
could teach us lesson, if we were not
100 set ia our own ways to mind them.
am speaking to ease my own mind,
bailie; I know well you viii do just as
you like.
Bailie Allister did not answer at once.
He took in the whole gray, dreary land
cape, with the lichen.s stained, melancholy
house in the midst of it, and then asked,
abruptly; " What did you call the place,
Brodie9p
Ipeyer called its name at eli, sir.
More than D hundred years syne some
body called it Gross basket Ia very
proper name, for every generation has
seen its basket md store crossed more
and mere, till at last basket store, and
money-ponch are all but empty
Who is the owner now ?"
Sholto MacNair He's but poor
lad for a laird-aye dawdling about the
hills with a.pencil, they say"
81 think viii go and see him.
There is : harm in lpeeFing the price
Of a place. -
You'll do your viii, doubtless, bai-
lie; and it is none of my interest to say,
Don't. Still you are my own cousin
four times removed, and 1 would be
loeth to see you buy bad luck with good
gold.
g am not set on buying. Brodie.
70 tell the truth, knew this lads moth
twenty-five years ago, and would
Ike to see her son. Poor Grace Lari-
mer You'll mind Grace Larimer,
Br0die2"
g / mind her wen, bailie. She has
been dead many year now, and if you
are bent on seeing her son, a good.
day to you; it is little time l have fol
picking up dropped threads"
So the lawyer and his friend parted
the one trotting gently back TO the city;
the other, after tying his horse to the
gate Of the decaying house, saunterine
thoughtfully toward its entrance.
His summons at the door was answer
cd by an old woman, whose first greet
ing was anything but hospitable: " Y
medina ring sac loud, sir; we're neither
deaf nor dead within.
Can / see Mr.. MacNair ?"
" That depends on wha's speerlng fo