The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1882-12-01
A SCRAP OF UNwRIrTEN HISTORY.
By JULIA c. sNALJET, IN CATHOLIC WORLD
FOR DECEMBER.

with the cheerful family circle in which our
easy chair is permitted for the present to MI
the privileged place accorded to its invalid
occupant, we fell to relating incidents con-
/ nected with the early history of our republic.
/ An aged member of that circle sat diligently
/ plying her knitting needles, a silent listener
to our chat, instead of supplying the share
| which weakne1 full we'll she could have
drawn from her own knowledge OF many in
teresting events Of that period, at the time Of
! their occurrence or soon after. She was,
| therefore, very warmly urged by the younger
/ part of the company to tell us a story" even
though it might prove, as she hinted. but a
"twice-told tale'' to some Of her listeners.
It so happened that she had on that day
taken up a stray number OF Lossings Picto-
rial Field Book Of the Rerol,nion, and while
glancing drowsilv over its pages her eve was
attracted by his account Of the tragical death
of Jane McCrea near Fort Edward, on the
Hudson River. i'm July, 1777. Having fire.
quently,in former years, visited an aged rel
ative who lived in Bennington, Vermont
through the war Of the Revolution, aud who
was well acquainted with the unfortunate
girl. and with the Mrs. Mcneil whom Miss
McCrea was visiting at the time of the sad
event she had heard the painful story in all
its mouTnful details from the lips Of that rel
ative, with the shuddering horror and fearful
sympathy which it would naturally awaken
in sensitive young heart
At the close of his narration LOSING re-
marks that there were various accounts in
the vicinity Of Fort Edward as to the subse-
quent fate OF Lieutenant Jones' of the Brit
iSh m uuhn
gagged and that he heard. from a'Iady at
Glen's Falls who was related to the Jones
family, that he lived with his friends in Can
ada many years after the terrible event-a
melancholy and lonely man.
1t is curious to note how some such trivial
cause as this renewal Of her acquaintance
with that sad story will often impel an Old
person to rake up the diving embers Of the
past and draw from them living sparks
which had long been smnulderinp beneath
their dust It was thus with our serene old
friend, as she closed the book that afternoon
and settled back in her "oId arm chair"
musing upon the narrative and recalling
scenes of her early life which she had not
thought upon for wears. Hence it followed.
Of course. when our evening chat dipped into
history and she was urged TO bear her part in
it, that she should recUr to the subject OF her
late reading and reveris. and to the fact that
she knew more OF the later life Of Lieuten-
ant David Jones than was recorded by Loss
ing. "For." said she. "all the early years of
nv life. with the exception of occasional Wis
ITS to friends in Vermont, were passed on the
American shores Of the St Lawrence. It was
then wilderness from Saekett's Harbor to
the Rapids only broken by the little village
Of OgdensSurg just starting into existence.
and by small openings made here and there
by such hardy pioneers as dared encroach
within its forbidden boundaries
schools there were none up and down the
river from Ogdensburg, and the children OF
the settlers had no means for instruction,
unless taught at home or sent across the river
to attend schools already established in the
older settlements on the Canadian shore
mo sooner had nv father taken up large
tract Of land and planted our pleasant home
in this widerness-indeed, before we had
been there long enough to get it reduced to a
I tolerahle state Of order-we were visited by
the residents OF thar shore up and down the
river, and afterwards formed MANY perma-
nent friendships with them, among the most
I
merous branches Of the Jones family. Soft
befell that when I was old enough to be sent
away to school was admitted into one Of
those families more as household pet than
bGarder, and was cordially invited to range
freely through the whole circle. AS every
separate family was blessed with daughters
near my own age was decidedly in clover
among them-clover the luxury of which for
me, who bad no sister or young oompanions
at home, save the little squaws from neigh
boring Indian encampment, cannot possibIv
be conceived by any small lassie who lives
amidst abOunding youthful companionsbfp
l revslled in it. Such parties as were given
weekly at one or another house Such null
titudes of dolls as went with us in every va
riety OF costume; among which my own. large
and small, hgurod copper colored and in full
Indian dress, with hair banged according to
the most approved aboriginal style-which
has been adopted by our modern fine ladies
and was necessary to the completion OF the
Indian toilet that took pride in arranging
for them in honor of my special pets, the pa
pooses OF the wigwams.
Among the young girls of the Jones con-
neetion was one to whom was particularly
attracted, as she was to me, by the similari-
ty of our positions. Her father lived in a re-
mote district, and her home was almost as
isolated as my own. while she was with her
relatives for the same purpose as myself
At the close of each term of our school she
was, as well as myself, carried home to pass
the short Interval between the terms. On
one OF these occasions she was so urgent in
her entreaties that might be permitted to
go with her for the vacation that nv father
consented, much to my satisfaction, and we
set forth in great glee. Our Journey was
very delightful through wild and romantic
region, and I received a most cordial well
come from her family at its close.
''The house was more elaborate in stvIe
and furniture than our home 50 recently
founded in the woods. portion OF it was
built by her grandfather many years before,
and extensive modern additions had been
made by her father. Her grandfather died
the previous year, and his brother, very
venerable old gentleman with hair as white
as snow, lived in the family. I was deeply
impressed by the countenance and manner
of this grand-uncle of my friend An ex-
preston OF unutterable sadness was stamp
ed upon his noble features, and a gentle
dignity-benign to the very verge Of pity
marked his whole bearing, even to the soft
aned tones Of his manly voice, especially
when addressing the young in the few slow
ly- uttered but impressive words which he
seldom exceeded when speaking to them. -
He was verv fond of his 2randniece and, ST.