The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1883-12-28

nOmellke. III mas lOug CeaScu 10 De u
new object-an innovation has
become part of the landscape, like
the trees that have grown up around
it. 1t was originally painted brown,
but with the flight of time it has taken
grayish tinge, as in sympathy with
its venerable proprietor. In summer
it stands back from the roadway in
modest seclusion. Elms, naples and
shrubbery give to the passer by but
chance glimpses of the wide veranda
which is indicated rather than revealed
beyond the thickly clustering vines
1t is now late December, and in con-
trast with its leafy retirement
THE OLD HOMESTEAD
stands out with sharp distinctness in
the white landscape; and yet its sober
hue harmonizes with the dark boles of
the trees, and suggests that, like them,
it is natural growth of the soil, and
quite as capable of clothing itself with
foliage in the coming spring. This in
a sense will be true when the greenery
and blossoms of the wisteria, honey
suckle and grapevines appear, for
their fibres and tendrils have chung to
the old house so long that they may
well be deemed an inseparable part of
it. Even now it seems that the warmth,
light and comfort within are the sus-
tanning influences which will carry
them through the coming days of frost
and storm. A tall pine tree towers
above the northern gable of the dwell
ing, and it is ever signing and moan
ing to itself as if it possessed some I'M
happy family secret which it can Meth
err reveal nor forget. On the hitheE
side of its shade carriage drive curv-
ed toward an ancient horse block, with
many lichen growing on the under
side of the weather beaten planks and
supports. From this platform, where
guests had been alighting for gener-
alton or more, the drive passed to an
old-fashioned carriage house, in which
were the great family sleigh and
light and gayly painted cutter, reveal
ing that the home was not devoid of
the Young life to which winters most
exhilarating pastime is so dear. A
quaint corncrib was near, with its
messy posts capped with inverted tin
pans much corroded with rust, which
prevented providing rats and mice from
climbing up into the golden treasure
house. Still further beyond were the
GRAY OLD BARN
and stables facing the south. Near
their doors on the sunny side of the
ample yard stood half dozen ruminat-
| ing cows, with possibly d IA conscious
ness between their wide branching
horns of the fields, now so white and
cold, from which had been cropped far
| juicer morsels in the summer long past.
| Even into their sheltered nook, the sun.
far down in the south, threw but cold
and watery CLEANS from steel colored
| sky, and as the northern blast eddied
around the sheltering buildings the
| poor creatures shivered, and when the
morning airing was over were glad to
return to their warm, straw Uttered
stalls. Even the gallant and champion
cock Of the yard was chilled. With one
foot gathered up into his fluffy feathers
| he stood motionless in the midst of his
disconsoate harem with his eye fixed
vacantly on the forbidding outlook.
His danes appeared neither to miss
| nor to invite his attentions, and their
| eyes, usually 50 bright and alert, often
filmed in weary discomfort. Nature,
| however, was oblivious TO all the DUN b
| protests of the barnyard, and the cold
steadily strengthened. Away on every
side stretched the angular fields, out
lined by fences that were often but
| white continuous mounds, and also
marked by trees and shrubs that in
their earlier life
HAD RUN THE GAUNTLET
Of the bush hook. Here and there
the stones of the higher and more alb
rupt walls would crop out, while the
board and rail fences appeared strange
ly dwarfed by the snow that had fallen
and driftcd around them. The groves
and wood crowned hills still further
away looked as drearily uninvitng as
roohess dwellings with icy hearthstones
and smokeless chimn ays, Towering
above all on the right was Storm King
Mountain, its granite rocks and preci-
pices showing darby here and there,
as if its huge white mantle were old and
ragged indeed. One might well sbiver
at the lonely, desolate wastes lying be-
yond it, grim hills and early shadowed
valleys where the half starved fox
prowls and watches for unwary rabbits
venturing from their coverts to nibble
the frozen twigs. The river, which
above the Highlands broadens out into
Newburgh Bay, has become a snowy
plain, devoid on this bitter day of every
sign of life. The Beacon hills on the
further side frown forbiddingly through
| the intervening northern gale, sweep
ing southwark into the mountain