The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1880-01-08
THE DOOR WITHOUT A LOCK,


THE DOOR WITHOUT A LOCK.
A Holiday Story.
1t Was during our honeymoon and in
midwinter-coid, bleak and dismal, as
are many homogeneous in midsummer
that the accident occurred which
am about to relate, and that neither my
wife nor will ever forget as long as we
live.
1t happened fifty years ago, when
coaches ran and post-ctaises were the
fashion, and when railways for passen-
gers were talked Of, but were yet only
looming mystically in the rift of light
that was dawning broadly on the hori-
zon of science.
We had been married at York, and
were travelling north to visit some
wealthy relatives from whom had ex-
pectations, who dwelt on the far side
Of Edinburg, and vino had invited us
to spend our Christmas under their hos
pitable roof. 1t was wild district that
we had to pass through, and the jour-
ney would take several days to accom-
plish-over moor and fell and barren
waste lands; sometimes by rugged
roads, where the wheel-tracks were
either indentations eight or nine inches
deep, or else were altogether hidden I'M
der vast wind-blown snow-drifts, that as
often as not covered hedge and ditch,
and lay piled up beyond in endless min
iature mountain ranges. With jaded
cattle and tired post-boys, we managed
to reach Alnwick late on a Thursday
evening, putting up at the Percy Arms
there for the night.
How glad we were, and how cosy it
was inside that respectable hostelry.
With drawn curtains and good blazing
fire, with wax-lights burning and excel
lent juicy broiled steak and onions,
fried potatoes and pint of rare old
sherry on the table before us, we began
to think that things might have been
worse. And when the mince pies
came, followed by Welsh-rare.bit and
hot whisky-punch, we were quite sure
that there was nothing better in the
whole world than being cramped up all
the livelong day in stuffy rattling old
chaise, with draughty doors and breath
steamed windows, except the getting
out of it to eat a well-cooked dinner in
snug, warm room. with the object of
ones fervent passion sitting close to
ones elbow, ready to be embraced on
the very slightest provocation or at the
most feebly expressed desire.
The following morning rose brightly,
I remember. The air was certainly q
trife keen and sharp, but the snow
crushed crisp]y under foot, while the
sun shone and glittered on the hard.
white ground, and glistened dazzlingly
with many prismatic hues as I
trudged gayly down the main
street to the fine bridge that
spanned the ice-blocked river to take a
look at the ancient Gothic borderland
castle which in the good old times of
feud and petty incursive warfare used
to fortify and defend the town.
BY 10 o'clock we were ready to be
off. The heavy, jingling, cumbrous,
yellow chariot stood at the inn door,
with luggage strapped on securely be-
hind and my wife's II was fond of talk
ing about "my wife, in those halcyon
days Of matrimony) imperial on the
top. Walters, boots, 'ostlers, all had
been satisfactorily feed, neither had /
omitted to chuck "Mary," the chamber
maid Ia remarkable pretty crature, I
recollect) slyly under the chin, while
madam" was being obsequiously
bowed into her carriage by landlord
and landlady and was settling herself
comfortably amid her furs and other
paraphernalia inside. Up went the
steps, bang went the door, whips
cracked; the horses obligingly caracoled
feebly in order, I presume, to impart a
'je ne sails quot" of style to our
equipage; and behold we had once
more started and at pace, too, that for
brace of seconds could not have been
much under twelve miles an hour.
BY slow degrees the day wore
gradually away. We had baited the
horses many times and changed them
once or twice. But, Notwithstanding
these exciting performances, the mon
otony of the journey was becoming
prodigiously burdensome, and, heartily
sick of the expedition, we were both
longing for the moment when we should
espy the hamlet that was marginal
landmark on our kinsman's estate and
would be to us the welcome harbinger
announcing our speedy release from
the ramshackle laundering old coach.
, Meanwhile the sky had grown over