Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1883-03-28

but Olivia was we'll fed and free from
care IN that respect, whilst I nearly
starved myself, working with my pencil
to late hours in the nig int and early in
the morning on insufficient food. The
consequences were that ere two years
had passed away found myself growing
nervous and hipped, afraid almost of the
sound of my own voice, irritable to all
around me, and even to my sweet Olivia.
Mr. Garwood took me in hand, sent for
a doctor, and gave me EGO to pay for his
prescriptions walking tour. And thus
it happened that, with Olivia's photo
graph IN my pocket, with knapsack
and walking stick, started one bright
morning in June on that trip which was
to be turning-poin in my life. did
not intend to go very far from London,
but to explore those beautiful counties
which in some parts are as wild and ro-
mantle as if they were situated hun
dred miles from the great Babylon.
For my first fortnight, l enjoyed uu-
interruptedly fine weather, and was able
to walk my fifteen to twenty miles day.
Towards the end of the month, however,
the wind changed, the sky, hitherto so
blue, grew gray and gloomy, and ! be-
gan to fear l must turn my steps home
ward. l had set my mind, however, on
reaching certain point, and was not to
be deferred from my goal by any amount
Of rain OF wind. Yet they proved too
strong for me one evening when had
by no means completed my usual dis
lance, and found myself literally blown
to the door OF an exceedingly rustic inn,
where fortunately discovered l could
put up for the night. + was not sorry
to be compelled to stop here, for, even
through the driving rain could see that
it was situated in a singularly lovely
spot, on the slope Of narrow valley,
crowned with woods, and opposite what
looked to me most picturesque ruin.
Be that as it might, the rain prevented
my seeing anything very distinctly, and
l was glad to change my things. and to
sit down to rustic but not uupalatable
meal. l slept soundly all the night, in
spite OF the torrents of ram and howl
ing wind, which nevertheless failed to
rouse me from my deep slumbers. The
next morning when arose, to my dis
may, the rain was still falling heavily,
the sky was like lead, and the little
brook that ran at the bottom of the val
ley was swollen snd turbid. 1t was i'm
possible to continue my journey with
any pleasure or profit; and narrow, and
to a certain degree uncomfortable as was
my present abode, at any rate it was o
roof over my head. So 1 resolved to
stay till the rain ceased, for l perceived
that my host was honest, and that he
and his wife were worthy people.
could not help beng amused by the way
in which the latter stared me out of coun-
tenance, but came to the conclusion that
it was ny white lock which so riveted my
attention.
During the long wet morningI looked
about in vain for anything approaching
literature in the parlor. In my research
es, however, my eye lighted on many an
unexpected treasure in the shape of here
an old Worcester vase or Stafford fig
ure, there finely. carved oak table and
corner chair, a pair Of embossed brass
candle-sticks, scared ith many dlnt and
scratch, but still beautiful in design and
workmanship; and last, but not least,
curious piece OF ancient.looking tapestry
in sad condition, being hung as curtain
over the front door to keep out the
draught. Whence could these treasures.
which contrasted so strangely with the
neutrality-suspicious. appearance of
the place have come Probably, Iconjec-
tured, from the house across the valley.
which, t1om the appearance OF the small
portion could see OF it, must once have
been fac building. 1t might serve to
pass away the time if I could persuade
my hostess to give me, as far as she
knew it, the history of this old manor;
and, with this idea, l waited patiently
till saw the good woman clear away
the monday meal, tidy up the parlor,
and sit down with piled-up basket OF
socks and stockings to mend.
l drew my chair opposite hers and
elected, by my very first question, the
information that for many years she had
been servant to the family who lived at
Fair Beeches, and could tell me more
than any one else of the old place and its
Inhabitants. It was evident had set
her OFT on her favorite topic, and with
out much pressing, keeping me the whole |
time in a full stare, the old woman re-
lated to me, with an intelligence and
delicacy OF perception seldom found in
her class, the following history:
1t seemed that, up to some six years
ago, there had lived at Fair Beeches, for
generations, a family by the name of
Aylmer, who in days long gone by must
have been people Of importance. They
were, however, quiet, unintellectual
stock, taking no part in the events of
their successive ages, and gradually sub
siding, in their inaccessible valley, from
gentry almost 10 the level of the rustics
by whom they we're su :rounded. From
time to time some of their members |
would separate from the parent stock |
and seek their fortunes in London or |
elsewhere, but for the most part they |
we're an unadventurous set, content to |
live and die in obscurity.
1t was in some part of the reign of |
George III. that the family were reduced |
to two brothers and their mother, a wo-
man of much beauty and spirit, the
daughter of farmer from nelghbor-
ing county. She advised her younger
son, Godfrey, who inherited her acute
ness, to quit her paternal home on the
death Of his father, and with his few
hundred pounds that were left him, to
repair to London and see how he could |
turn them to the best account. Only |
too glad to follow her advice, Godfrey |
readily turned his back on his native |
valley, on his mother and brother, to be
soon lost to them in the great metropo-
lis. For year or two they received
letters from him, relating that he was
getting on we'll in London, that his
friends were numerous, and that fortune
was smiling on him; and then these too
ceased, and nothing more was heard of
him.
Meanwhile the elder brother sue
ceeded to the estate. and, with his
mothers aid, made it answer as it had
never answered before. In the course
Of time he married, and died, leaving
an only son. who grew to mans estate