The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1883-04-13
WAITING.


had had for week or more-I strolled
down the main street of the seaport
town where l was spending my vaca-
ton, intending to go out on the salt
marshes back Of the town. This main
street, although little more than mile
long, has Us eventful career in its brief
course as the road in the Pilgrim s
Progress Chart we used to see, hung in
the sitting-room of our grandfather s
houses. Starting from the railroad, it
first passes the colony of fish-houses and
their rows of frames covered with dry
ing cod; then it plunges into the hurry
and hustle Of the town, running the
gauntlet between the two rival grocer
les which stand insultingly face to face;
and passing the store in whose windows
are exhibited two lamp chimneys, a Jar
of candy and a box of pepper, while
overhead hangs the sign: ''B. Bearse,
Commission-Merchant.n Then it comes
to the head of the wharves, where are
congregated the men from the mackerel
fleet in the harbor, talking in various
languages, or executing slow dances to
the tune of "Home, Sweet Home"
From jewsharps and accordeons; and
ihen it comes out in the old village,
with the white church and the trim
houses and the flower gardens full Of
peonies and pansies and hollyhocks and
larkspurs in their season, and hemmed
in by white picket-fences, each with its
green roll along the top.
/ walked along here, catching q
glimpse through every cross street of
the harbor, until came out to where
the houses were more scattered. Then
the road goes up little hill, and from
the top you have an unbroken view of
the harbor on one side, and on the other
the salt marshes. just beyond this hill
top and standing apart by itself, was
an old house which / had never Noticed
much before, but which now attracted
my attention, and 1 stopped. It stood
back perhaps fifty feet from the road,
and was built in the common country
fashion, with one story and a pitch roof
slanting toward the road. The blinds
were all closed, and their green had
faded to light blue. The white paint
OF the house was much of it washed off,
and what was left was peeling and curl
ing up. Through the crack between
the boards of the front doorstep was
growing row of vigorous pigweed,
and the front yard was a sea of Bounc-
ing-Bets. There had been a grape-ar-
Dor at one side Of the yard, but it had
gone to ruin, and the vine was trailing
among the weeds. You could tell where
the fower-beds had been by the greater
luXuriance of growth, and along either
border of the path, from the gate to the
doorway, could be seen the twinkle,
here and there through the weeds, of
seashells. ~. Is
The house was surely unoccupied.
But there was a certain air about
it which suggested something more
than this. 1t looked as if it were watt
ing for some one-perhaps very far off
now-to come and clear away the
weeds, and fill the fower-beds with
color, and throw open the doors and
windows and let in the sunshine.
As | was wondering what the story OF
the house might be, white-haired man,
who had evidently been sailor, came
trudging down the road.
''Who lived herep" he said, in answer
to my question: "Why, this is old Cap'n
Peleg's house. You can't have been
here long if you haven't heard of old
Cap'n Peleg Would you like to look
insideP Well, I'll just go along here tc
my house and get the key"
He came back moment later. and
pushed open the gate, which moved
slowly on its rusty hinges. We made
our way through the tall weeds to the
door, and here, too, the lock and hinges
were rusty; but at last the door opened,
and we went into little entry, and
from there into the parlor. Although
the room was dark-for the blinds were
closed and the curtains down-yet the
light from the doorway showed that il
had cheerful, home-like look. There
was red carpet on the floor, and on
the walls were hanging some bright
pictures of schooners under full sail
Here by the window stood big rock.
sing-chair, with soft red cushion in it.
and there was another pulled up before
the fireplace, and on the andirons were
piled brushwood and sticks-all ready
for the match.
It's fifteen years since that fire was
built" said the old man, THROWING
open the blinds, and then seating him
self in one of the chairs and rocking
softly" Yes, sir, eighteen hundred anc
sixty-three. How time does hy.''
And is it waiting for the ownerP''
asked.
We'll" said the old man, whose
name, by the way, / found to be Nehe
miah, or Ne'miah, as he called it
Cap'n Ne'miah Blossom down
and I'll begin the story and tell it righ
through, and then you can answer you
own question as well as can.
"You see this house is quite old now
Cap'n Peleg's father lived here, and
then Cap'n Peleg, and it's good now fol-
three or four generations more. That.
what the old man said when he built it
lie was young man then, but he said
I'm building this house for nv GRAND
son as well as myself. So he picked
out this spot, just sheltered by the hill
and yet soft you can look down acros,
the harbor and see the vessels going II
and out, and he brought all the lumber
from down South somewhere Southern
pine-in his vessel, and had the bes
work put in. And sure enough, whe1
he died Peleg brought his wife here
and counted on leaving it the same t
his boy. Now, if l only had daguer
reotype of Cap'n Peleg, that / raw
once, to show you, and one of his boy
you might guess the whole story, all BY
yourself. The old Cap'n had blaci
eyes and heavy eyebrows, and heavy
jaw, and close-set mouth, and Hi-thaf
was the boys name-he gave promis,
to take after his father.
but they got on together first-rate
Cap'n Peleg's wife died while Hi wa.
only boy, and so Cap'n Peleg and H
had to make much of each other. anc
they were always together, and Cap'r
Peleg was forever making willow
whsle, or rigging rabbit-trap, or do
ing something else for Hi. He'd mar