The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1881-06-02
.ro LEr-KIppLE GRANGE. >

-BuTJiette, IN HdaCleyc.
"TO LET-KIPPLE GRANGE.n
Mr.. Pixley was a real-estate agent.
Mr.. Pixley had had a goodly number of
houses on his list in his time. but never
one so persistently, unalterably, perse-
veringly on his list as Ripple Grange.
Year after year it had figured on his
books rs q desirable Country Resi-
dence. to be had on Reasonable Terms;"
year after year it still hung hopelessly
on his hands.
Nor was Mr.. Pixley the only real
estate agent who had wrestled, so to
speak, with Ripple Grange. Other
land brokers and rent collectors had had
their try" at it, with equally unsatis-
factory results. It had been advertised
in. newspapers. and pasted up on bulle-
tin-boards, andstill itremaineda =" Ripple
Grange-To Eet.n73 E
"Hang the old placer said Mr.. Pix
ley, vehemently scratching his bald
head 81 wish it would burn down, or
blow away. or somethingl It's a dis
grace to 3 business man to keep such
an eye-sore on his list I've a great
mind to put old Miss Briggs into it, to
keep it in order until can get better
tenant She wants place cheap. I'll
let her have Ripple Grange for moth
ing"
So when Miss Briggs came tiptoeing
into the real-estate office-a faded,
melancholy little old maid. leading her
terrier-dog by its string, and wearing a
green veil to neutraliZe the spring
winds-Mr. Pixley told her that Ripple
Grange should be hers, for the present,
at least.
"You'n probably find it lonely" said
he.
al dote on the country" said Miss
Briggs.
And very much out of repair" he
added. -
Il don't doubt but that it will do for
me-" said the little old spinster, her
faded eyes Frightening. -.
'' Probably. also, there's a ghost
about the premises, jocosely uttered
the agent.
Miss Briggs shook her head with sad
SMILE '.lt's live people l am afraid
OF, - said she, :. not dead ones.n
"Well," said Mr., Pixley, " Ripple
Grange shall be yours this quarter, if
you II fix up the garden a little, and
give the place q ttced-in sort of look.
Of course it will be for sale. and / shall
expect you to do your. best for our in
terests. - -Ae f @
And Miss Briggs courtesied. and said.
eyes, she would. and Withdrew, great
" !elated in spirit. - - y
Upon the same day, the 25th of April.
Mr. Beggarall, the real-estate agent of
Dorchester. let Ripple Grange to old
Mr. Hyde. who was q naturalist. and y
botanist, and an ertomologist, to say
nothing of half a dozen other lists, and
who wanted quiet country home, with
woods and meadows in its vicinity,
wherein to prosecute his beloved sci
ences. And Macpherson q Co., of
Long Island, made n bargain with the
Reverend Mr.. Bellairs, an invalid cler-
gyman, who was in search of country
air and complete repose- Mrs. Beilairs
was pattern housekeeper, and gloried
in the prospect of grass bleaching. new
laid eggs, wild raspberries and plenty
of pumps and apricots for preserving
purposes
And strangely enough, it occurred to
none of the three real-estate agents to
let the other two know of his action.
.There is never any demandfor Kip
pie Grange said Macpherson a. Co,
indifferently.
"rll write to Pixley and old MaC
when get time," said Beggarall
There's no hurry about Ripple
Grange,' thought Pixley. "If Mis-
Briggs keeps it from tumbling to pieces
she will do very we'll {" F.,
Meanwhile Mrs. Ripple herself, the
plump widow whose grandfather on the
husbands side had bequeathed her thil
impracticable piece of property, begar
- 81 - \ - 1<x<@b -
herself ssThey tell me there's no sucl
mind to 90 down and see for myself
One really pines for the country, nov
that they are selling lilac blossoms anC
pansies in the streets; and I'm quite
sure that change of air would do m,
good. III take Dorcas, my maid, and ,
few cans of peaches and sardines, ant
wen picnic at Ripple Grange, just TO
the fun of the thing"
S alt never rains but it pours," saitl
the ancient proverb: SO upon this windy
blooming April day, when the sum.
meadow slopes were purpled all owe
with wild violets. and the yellow mar
cissus was shaking its golden tassel
over the neglected borders of Kippl
Grange, the old brick house. which hai
stood empty for six good years at least
became all of sudden alive
1t was an ancient mildewed structur
on the edge of wood. an old red hous
whose front garden, tangled over wit
rose-briers, and grown with the fantas
tic trunks of messy pear-trees, and ar
ples that leaned almost to the ground
sloped down TO the bank of merry Lii
tie rivulet Here the tiger-hlies LITE
their scarlet turbans in the July sun
shine. and the clumps of velvety sweet
williams blossomed first and sweetest
Great tcream-heartedro roses swung az aims
the tumble-down stone wall, and love
in-a-mist, London-pride and all thos
rare old-fashioned flowers of our an
cestors ran riot. sprawling across tn
grass-grown paths, and packing them
selves into the angles OF the fence
where the oneysuckles trailed. and tn
scarlet peoples looked like drops 9
blood. The old garden OF kiPpl
GRANGE was like horticultural sho'
oone mad at midsummer. And eve
now il was sweet with tufts OF crocus
bIue-relvet iris. and daffodils. while q
the rear rose up the silent hemioc
wood. still and scented and emera
green. in the twilight
Miss Briggs, with herterrier-d dog, ne
bandboxes, and her poor little hal
trunks studied with brass nails, had &c