The Iola register., 1880-06-25

CenS1ty. was almost SCarCnnS. 1nrOugn
the archway caught my first glimpse
of the cathedral. I took in the fore
ground and proceeded to investigate.
It was churchyard, and an old one,
SO full of tombstones that the sexton
might, with propriety-no. not proprie-
ty, with truthfulness-paint upon the
gate, " Standing room only" Sudden
ly the moon came out from behind a
cloud. 1t was like a transformation
scene. The cathedral-but 1 paid no
attention to the cathedral. for all at
once the tombstones became unpleas-
antly distinct and white. l admit that
l ran. l even doubted, for moment,
the expediency of railings-they pre-
vented anything like short cut. Now
found myself under the shadow of the
castle. 1t is a vast pile of ivy, with
here and there an irregular gap and
now and then glimpse of rough hewn
stone. but for the most part ivy. A
crooked street led up to it, with the
churchyard on one side and houses on
the other. Prim little houses, in which
none but good old-fashioned folk could
live and thrive.
L
pluck some of the dark green ivy leaves
from its walls as mementOs. The utter
stiffness was unbroken even by the note
of bird; the trees were motionless. 1t
was as though all mankind lay buried
in the old churchyard, an6 I remained
"the last man." l stretched out my
hand, reached the ivy and broke off
some leaves. Turning to 90 something
glistened in the grass at my feet. It
was a gold bracelet, elegant and of fine
workmanship. Like much else that 1
had discovered since my coming, it was
undeniably new. But it was bracelet.
and had found it at the dead of night
under the shadow of an uncovered ruin.
body was in bed and the house dark.
In fact, it took the united efforts of my
self and solitary policeman, who, con-
trary to tradition. turned up when re-
guired, to SO excite the hotel bell that
the clerk with the suspicious eye was at
length led, through merciful Provi-
dence, to believe that the place was on
fire, and in effecting an escape by the
front door offered me chance to enter,
of which availed myself without vast
ing time in vain explanations. I
stumbled into wrong bedrooms and
upset numerous vials of wrath upon my
head before found my own. By the
light of a candle I re-examined my
treasure and made a fresh discovery.
At the back of the center device. aname
was engraved:
s'GYPsY GoLDEN.'
For safety's sake placed the brace
let under my pillow, and was soon
asleep. Of course, dreamed of Miss
Gypsy, and fell in love with the little
black-eyed beauty-she must be black
eyed, or why call her "Gypsy''-and
would have married her but for that
idiotic clerk, hammering at my door.
l told him to come in. I did so merely
that 1 might heave boot at his head.
I am good at short range. What was
the use of his telling me that it was
twelve o'clock at noon and that he had
quite expected to find me dead in my
bed of apoplexy or something. 1t was
useless to try to 60 to sleep again and
60 on with the ceremony. 1 inquired
of the suspicious clerk If there was any
one of the name of Golden living in
Rochester or the neighborhood.
He replied: "Not that he knowed."
The ancient waiter came to my as
sistance and said:
"Old Golden keeps the Blue Boar
and he's the only one of that name
know of here or elsewhere, he is"
did not think that Gypsy--I called |
her Gypsy, and would have shortened it |
to Gyp, only itsounded too much like a
dogs name-I say I did not think Gyp-
sy would have been connected with a
common tavern or an "Old Golden."
but held my peace.
"Was he sure?" I asked.
"Was he sureg' this with a falling
infection and indignant emphasis.
What did take him for? He wasn't
born in Rochester and hadn't lived in
Rochester for eighty years for nothing,
he hoped. I also hoped not, but in Sc
cret feared he had. However, he
me to the Blue Boar" and
that was something to have lived for
after all.
What long way off it was, away out
of the town and on country road, just
beyond toll-gate. The painting on
the sign looked more like a rhinoceros
that had a tit of the blues than a boar.
But that made the place all the better.
What you expect to find in good,
inn is irregularity reduced
to system. You want to let yourself
drift back to the time when they called
q spade spade, although it was more
like plowshare on the end of a flag
pole. If you get into the spirit of the
thing and can wipe from your mind all
of Fifth avenue and
spring beds you are all right. Iwent
into the parlOr. The floor was sanded;
two long boards on trestles constituted
the tables, and wooden benches were
ranged along the walls. There was