Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1882-08-04
MISS uAruLD, JANEAND THE MN
ISCEN.
A New England story of the Good old
- Kind.

MISS MATILDA JANE THE MN
ISCER.
A New England story of the Good old
Kind.
Bramleigh is sleepy looking town.
The village street is draped with drowsily
drooping Gins. The sea is Just far
enough away to whisper as sleepily as
the wind in the leaves. Few people are
abroad in the day time. The birds light
and sing on the messy town pump. The
church, which is SO white that it makes
one wink to gaze upon it, sits in the
midst of an ancient burying ground, and
calls the people of Sunday with the
sleepiest bell possible. Daisies and but
tercups nod in the path which leads to
the door of the town hall, and an adven-
turons tramp of clematis creeps out of
neighboring meadow and looks in at
the windows, trailing lis white blossoms
over the sill. The green blinds of the
ancient white house are all closed along
the street, and in the tall grass which
fills the shaded front yards grow few
sleepy-l looking flowers. such MS lilies OF
the valley, gray and crimson peoples,
''old maids pinks," and great clumps Of
silvery green "live forever.
When the clock strikes nine the whole
world PREPARES for bed, and II n light is
seen glimmering from one of the windows
for more than half an hour after that
time it is safe to conclude that either
some one is ill in the house or some one
has bean Ill nm advanced stage of court
ship. Still, long sojourn in Bramleigh
teaches one that it is never by any means
as sleepy as it seems-that every shutup,
drowsy looking old building has wide
awake eyes and ears on every side, and
that even the lank haired, drawing juve-
nile is on the alert for happening.
My landlady, Mrs. Bragdon, lives a
mile away from the village. but nearly
every whisper that is breathed there finds
its way to the farm-the thrilling news
that Mis- Peter Talpey is going to have
her sitting room newly papered, that the
minister bought his new coat up to Bos-
ton, that John Snow went home with
Lucy White from the last evening meet
ing, and the still more thrilling news that
Mis- Oliver Norton and Mis- Lcmuel
Stacy have fallen out and do not speak to
each other Mrs. Bragdon declares that
she will not sleep wink until she hears
whether they are pleased again or not.
As she expresses it, 'She does like to
have something goin' on" And when,
last fall, all her Summer boarders had
taken flight with the exception of myself,
the cows had all been sold but two, and
the light harvest was being gathered in
with the assistance of but two hired men,
she declared she had too much spare time
and was blue as whetstun-that the vii
lage was duller than nothin' at all she
was never SO PIT to it for news i'll her
life.
Spare time hain't what ais Inc,
grumbled Alfonso, the tow headed son Of
the house: 81 kent get Il minute ter sci
in the store; that's why you don't heal
no news"
Cats foot you don't git no news
when you do 60 to the corner evenin's
You don't set i'll the store, noway. Ior
Jest danglc round Cyrus Parker's gate t.
see il you ken git glimpse of Mirandy
But, Ior' if yon ken find out enythinl
that's a-goin on in the world, you NIGH
ez well go down along ternight. Therel
he pumpkins to cut cvenin's byn'by, II
there won't be no gittin' off then"
So, making himself very brilliant MS t,
his feet and very much perfumed rs t.
his head. Alfonso sets off down the roat
MS soon as his evening chores are accom-
plished. The light Of his lantern tlashe
from between the branches of the trees
and we hear him singing in very joll,
and conidant strain, as he disappear
round the corner. "Hell carry yol
thro."
"Well, domino as ! shall be kerrie,
thro' eff that boy don't bring no word q
enybody or enythin9,' says his mother
seating herself by the fire with her knit
ting work.
There is n frosty Jingle in the air, an
the scarlet glow of the open fire is ey
ceedingly grateful to the senses. TIL
hired girl and the hired man are courtin
in the kitchen. Pussy-cat washes he
face on the hearth rug. The crickets ar
piping pensively under the floor. al
absorbed in the fortunes of Capital
Francasse, Just the witching, wonderful
sort OF story to read by the freight of
long evening-and Mrs. Bragdon, VIII
likes company, looks miserable to til
last degree.
look up, and, catching glimpse {
her woe-begone face, am touched wit
real pity know with what delight
may fill her soul il choose to reveal
secret which have piously conceale
since my first years sojourn in Bramleig
"a delicate tale, which, for wonder
has not been whispered around the heart
sides of the village nor discussed unde
the dim, religious light.
put aside my book, and say rashly
before I have really decided to tel
"Mrs. Bragdon, did You ever know wht
broke of the engagement between Nil
Matilda Jane Snow and the minister p
The sudden Frightening up of Mr.
Bragdon's face is something amazing
She drops her knitting work at once m
clasps her hands in touching attitude
expectation mo; couldn't never flu
out for certain. Everybody thought
was proper strange, after they'd bee
goin' together for 30 long. Marshy, IL
girl tibet used ter work over to the Snow
told me tibet they'd set up together
good many nights, N ho used ter bril-
her peppermints and religious books vii
his'n her names writ in 'em. But Lor
Matilda Jane hez alwers bin hevin'
bean, ever sence she left off pantalette
Once twas the schoolmaster that com
from over Benny Big way. Folks 50
they was a goin' to git married rigl
away, m then he disappeared like n thi
in the night, N weren't never seen
these parts eny more. Nobody kne
Jest why tibet didn't come to nothin', b1