Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1880-02-13

/ helped my travelling COMPANION {,
ner seat, liked my own precious baggag,
into the box behind, and then oro
ceeded, naturally enough, to occupy in
side seat No. 2. There was but onf
passenger besides myself In twent,
minutes the two occupants of tbai
mountain diligence were tOlerably ac
quainted.
We spoke, of course, in German
What struck us both as very singular
however, was the great similarity o.
our German pronunciation. Miss Shell
ton.Miss Margot Shelton, to be more
expicit-for had seen her name on the
ticket as | passed it to the conductor
was perfectly certain I was not aSwiss,
much less an Austrian, and | was
equally confident my fair companion
was not native to the Alps. Her Ger.
man bore too strong an accent for that.
atterward learned she had thought nv
own little curious. Once, Just for the
sport of the thing, l shouted something
to the driver in English. How aston
ished was to hear Miss Shelton add to
it phrase as English as my owni We
hold breath to explain, and in almost no
time at all discovered that we were both
Americans. Strange discoveries fol-
lowed-they always do. Miss Shelton's s
father had been volunteer captain in
our army, and myself had been within
rifle shot of him when he fell at Vicks-
burg.
Her mother, a native OF Bleiberg, took
this only daughter and returned to her
old home, stopping at the solicitations
of friends, first for months, and now it
had been years. In moment recalled
what had been puzzling me for an hour.
l had seen the name Shelton before
somewhere.
Who was pensioner 1904 but Elsie
Shelton-why had / not thought of
thatP-wile of Captain Shelton, killed at
Vicksburg in June, 1868. How ex-
tremely singular! we both exclaimed.
Mrs. Elsie Shelton, l was soon informed.
was not remarked.
The object of my journey was accom-
plished. / might return home at once.
| did not, however. Besides, Miss Shell
ton insisted that | should go on and
visit pretty Bleiberg, her mother and
herself. was easily persuaded.
Why had the consul's letters not been
answered. | asked, as we made turn
in the road. "Oh," said Miss Shelton,
mother and l were both coming next
week to Z, to visit relative there,
and so she proposed answering in per-
son. Besides she is not so poor that
she cares dreadfully whether Uncle
Sam stops the ten dollars or SO. a month
or not.n
By noon the church steeple of Blei-
burg was in sight, and in an hour the
driver blew a shrill note or so on his
horn, the villagers hastened to the win
dows of the houses as our four painting
ponies passed on q eallop, and the little
old postmaster lifted his blue cap, and
gave us salute all round. Mrs. Shell
ton was living with friend, then alb
sent, in a substantial two-story stone
house not far from the post.
"TLis is Mr." said Miss Shelton,
mother, ga real, American; and, Just
think, he has come to ask. mamma, if
you are married" The good looking,
embarrassed little widow soon un-
raveled the nonsense with which Miss
Margot was seeking to sverwhelm us,
and | was welcomed not only as an
American, but as one who had been at
Vicksburg.
When the dinner was over | stroled
ont through one of the loveliest situated
villages of the Alps. The view down
the valley we had just assembled was en-
chanting. Behind the pretty town, and
edged by green meadow sloping up
ward, was forest of tall dark frs, and
above this an alp, angling up the side
of a steep mountain, known to all tour.
lists as the Rigi of the Kernthal.
1t was only the 25th OF February, but
the sun seemed rs warm as in midsum-
mer. The grass, so wonderfully green,
was high enough for pasture, and
violets and dIises peeped out every
where.
1t was dangerously warm, in fact"
muttered the little postmaster in the
blue cap, as / handed him a letter to
post TO the consul at Z, saying every
thing was well, but I couldn't possibly
be back on Saturday," dangerously
warm, because there had not been so
much snow on the mountains in fifty
years as now, and already people began
to hear of avalanches falling out of
season."
Bleiberg, however, is safe enough, l
thought to myself, as | glanced up the
sides of the old peak where, sure enough,
there were oceans of snow and ice glis-
tening in the sunshine. But it was q
mile away, and between pretty Bleiberg
and it swept, like dark veil, the forest
of tall fir trees.
II don't like tits too warm-and
there's no telling" continued my would
be pessimist of a postmaster. "I
haven't lived in those regions we'll nigh
to fifty years for nothing. Showing all
winter, and hot sun and daisies in
February, aren't natural. 1t means
avalanches to somebody somewhere"
/ had almost forgotten that, as left
the house of my fair entertainers, | was
informed that it was carnival-day in
the village, and that at three o'clock
must be on hand to see the procession.
1t was already after three, and hurried
back to be offered a good place to see
from, at the upper chamber window of
Miss .Margot, where, Joined by her
mother, we awaited the boys in striped
trousers and masks, and the men with
music and flags. 1t Was q novel sight,
as the long procession filed up the road
and approached the house where we
were waiting. The contrast of the
bright colors of the costumes and flags
with the green foliage and the greener
grass at the oad-sides; the comparative
silence, disturbed only by the echoing
OF the notes of music from the lofty
rocks. the seeming diminutiveness OF
everything-of the men, of the thread
like roads, of even the houses and trees.
as seen under the shadow of the tower
ing mountains-all added impressive
ness to the thing.
There were possibly hundred per-
sons in the procession, with score OF
boys following at the sides, and all the
villagers looking on. Suddenly the