Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1880-02-18
Griswold Stubbles.

even long before the commencement of
that epoch, if we may place any faith in
the pages Of story writers, heroes were aud
are to this day in the habit of receiving
rich legacies left them by old bachelor
uncles, who, good-naturedly, and in a
spirit of pure philanthrophy, it would
seem, die on purpose to make their nephews
happy. | had just fallen heir TO a small
fortune left me as frail memorial that |
once had an uncle of just such q sort. /
was a young man at that time, a clerk in a
merchants office with plenty to do at a
handsome fortune of three hundred dollars
per annum, and positively no holidays. \
desire to live in the country and be a far
mer had always possessed me from my
cradle; so when my uncle's property made
Ee independent, the old beylsh longing
came upon me in all its strength, and over
whelmed me with pleasant anticipations of
futurity. Well, | was alone in the world,
and nv own master now, which is more
than most persons can say who are ''alOne
in the world
Old John Clayton was a lifelong ac-
quaintance. and an old friend of our family
He was farmer, tolerably well off in this
worlds goods, and growing richer as he
grew older ! had often been invited to
spend the summer with him on his farm. |
had written him acquainting him of my
good fortune, and had just received an an
swer congratulating me on my sudden pros
perity and begging me to pay HIM visit
Here was Just what had been longing for
| needed no persuasive second invitation.
One day in early June | collected my lug
gage together, and bidding my landlady
good by, was soon on my way to Goose
berryville.
And tins only brings me TO the beginning
of my story which the reader may think
too short for so much preface. 1 shan't
say one word concerning how glad my old
friend was TO see me nor of a thousand
other little incidents of kindness. | shall
pass over all that, leaving the reader TO
imagine, if he will, what good, kind old
gentleman Mr.. .Claytonproved himself to Toe.
1t was great old-time country house,
Mr.. Clayton's was, with great many
gables TO il and likewise plentiful supply
of chimneys. There were pantries in every
corner and butts in every pantry. The
kitchen was a large, old-fashioned apart
mcnt, quite IN keeping with everything
else around il. 1t was always So bright
and clean that used 10 imagine it took
particular pride in being called the kitchen.
No connection with the high-toned rooms
above was written all over il. There for
you was an example in humility that other
kitchens would do well to initiate. OF
course il had that huge old firepiace-that
dark, secret. mysterious fireplace peculiar
TO farmhouse kitchens. But the old kitchen
has gone to where all good kitchens 90,
and this may be called-its obituary.
\ good old honest pump stood at some
distance from the house, and further on was
the well, with its proverbial appendage,
moss-covered bucket.
Mr.. Clayton was a good. natured. plain,
simple old gentleman. and his daughter,
Lucy (his only child, was a sweet. de-
lightful angel, as innocent of the world as
a robin and as contiding as child. 1t was
simply impossible not to love Lucy Clay
ton: and as for me, well-well, | shan't
now interrupt the story.
As. for GOOseberryville, | had often
gazed at pictures of rural life in the pic
ture stores till | actually forgot that was
anything but a country boy. Gooseberry-
vile was just such beautiful picture, with
verdant valleys, shady groves and sunny
streams. Dear me it is like a pleasant
dream to wander back III fancy to the old
scenes and be a farmer again.
One sunny afternoon Lucy was with me
in the orchard. The birds seemed to sing
their sweetest as they fitted across or
path or built themselves nests in tbs apple /
trees. Our conversation VS. general; we
spoke of the orcharf. the flowers she had .
culled that dey, and the blackbirds but .
SUBJECTS such as these soon grow exhausted .
when one is dying 10 say something else. /
and what that something else was the
reader knows as well as |.
.'Oh! I'm so afraid of him, " said Lucy,
abruptly, breaking 4 long silence in man
ner that startled me.
'.Afraid of whom, Lucy:" | returned
quickly, gazing all around, for l fully ex-
pected to encounter bear, or some other
wild animal.
''Of him-that man-Griswold Stub
bles, " and she pointed as she spoke 10
man whom / had Just time te see retreat
ing behind clump of berry bushes at no
great distance. But was too late saw
him, knew him. recognized him as Girls
Stubbles, person for whom had no great
affection.
why should you fear him, Lucy:" l
asked with feigned surprise and suppressed
indignation. ''Mr Stubbles appears to be
gentleman, | added with desperate re-
luctance.
"He-he loves me, " she replied, with a
shudder; he has told me so many a time,
long before you came to live with US; but
can never. never ike him. Besides he
hates you, Montgomery
'.Nonscnse, Lucy, Who told you this ~
''He, Griswold Stubbles himself, told it
TO me, and said he would be revenged
about something; but | did not wait 10
hear all he said, for was So frightened that
ran away. Did you see he was follow
ing us then.
Griswold Stubbles, to say the least, was
dangerous looking man TO have for ones
enemy. We was a tall, awkward man,
with handsome enough face, but for its
dark, grim expression. His gray. serpent
ike eyes were never known 10 look kindly
even on his own dog. Still he was a rich
mans son--a near neighbor He loved
Lucy Clayton, hated me; was consequently
my rival-my enemy. Lucy's words had
llldue Il utcp lulJItSeloH Oh Hle lTleu
hard to laugh off the gloomy feeling that
was stealing over me; but the more i
laughed the more gloomy became
We saw no more Of Griswold Stubbles
that day, which had induced me TO be-
heve that after all, seeing him had been
only mere fancy.
That night as lay half asleep upon my
pillow, my soul was troubled with misgiv-
ings and vague imaginings that knew no
end. Certain now were two things; |
loved Lucv Clayton with all the deep, pure
devotion Of my heart; hated Griswold
Stubbles. The hour was late-long past
midnight. The windows of my chamber
were open. There was a full moon in the !.
sky, and the sweet brilliant, silvery light
streaming in Illuminated every corner Of
my room. Suddenly heard noise; the
room for moment grew quite dark; /
rubbed my eyes hard to make sure it was ,
not dream. There was a dark shadow
on the floor; it was the shadow of man.
Startled, looked up, and beheld--what ?