Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1883-07-27
THE PRESTON TREASURE.
A Pleasant Little Story About PcOpl,
NOW Oh Earth.
[By Frank NJ. Couverse.l

n
Now on Earth.
[By Frank NJ. Couversr.l
The widow Preston's new boarder was
named Dorman-Charles II. Dorman. He
was good looking, mild hammered young
man, retcent of speech, and given to soli-
tude. He had briefly explained that pre-
feraing comfort to style, he had chosen
the quiet sea-board village of Covert, in
preference to Mt Desert, which lays few
miles further east. as place in which to
spend his summer vacation. Pretty Pol
ly Preston had an idea of her own, that
money considerations might also have in
tluenced his choice. For Polly had de-
cided that young Mr. Dorman was not
overburdened with this worlds goods. for
the reason that he habitually wore suit
of tweed which showed marks OF hard
service, and also smoked q briar pipe in
his long strolls on the beach. And Polly
considered shabby clothing and pipe
smoking, the inevitable concomitents of
genteel poverty.
Mrs Preston and Polly were not them
selves Astounding in riches. They owned
the quaint old square-roofed house built
in revolutionary days, and lived on the
interest of the life insurance of Captain
Preston, the deceased husband and faith
err, who had been lost at sea some years
before. They had COW, some hens, and
a small vegetable garden cultivated con
shares" by Joe Miller who regarded pref
ty Polly with admiring eyes, as indeed
did all the eligible young men in Covert.
For Polly was as good as she was pretty,
and as capable as she was good-which is
saying considerable.
The young lady in question waspoking
about the pansy bed, on particularly
bright June morning, about n fortnight
after Mr.. Dormans arrival. The young
man, himself, was standing irresolutely
about the porch in sort of brown study.
Before him lay the harbor with its an
chored vessels, and beyond the far-reach-
ing sea, whose distant sounding voice
filled the summer air like the murmuring
of shell. The soft wind rustled the
syringa lilac bushes, and whispered I'M
utterable suggestions in Polly's little
pink ear, as abe bent over the quaint
faced flowers.
ooh, isn't it lovely !" involuntarily ex-
claimed Polly, standing upright with a
great sigh of enjoyment. Polly meant
the morning-her surroundings, and the
pleasure of feeling that one is in exist
But Mr.. Dorman who answered Gin
deed it is" with such fervor as to quite
surprise the young lady, meant Polly
herself. For instead of having been en-
Toying the beauty of sea and sky, this
impoiite young man had been secretly
studying the more attractive picture of
Polly, whose soft dark eyes and piquante
face were shaded by the most becoming
garden hat, fashioned and trimmed by
her own deft fingers.
And Polly, who at his reply had looked
up rather wonderingly, blushed like tea
rose, as she caught his respectfully adj
miring gaze bent fully upon herself,
while Mr.. Dorman colored like peony at
being thus detected.
"I-a-beg-your pardon-what, a-a-very
old house this seems to be-" he stammer-
ed with hasty irrelevance, as he glanced
upward at the old time building with its
small windows, and one enormous chin
ney at the very apex of the roof.
And Polly who had seen something in
the speakers eyes that caused n curious
huttering in the region of the heart said
yes-it had been built more than a hun
bred years, she believed. And then, to
cover the momentary confusion of her
face, she hurriedly went on to relate the
the family legend devoutly believed in by
generations of bygone Prestons, which
was briefly, to this effect. Old Arnold
Preston the original founderof the house,
had been a man of great wealth and miser.
ly habits. He was sort OF local money
lender in colonial days, and kept large
store OF money by him. But one night
Covert was attacked by Indians under
the leadership of King Philip, and Old
Arnold, who i'll dire apprehension had
concealed his gold somewhere about the
premises, was shot through the heart by
an Indian arrow, while his family Were
taken away into captivity. Every sue
ceeding generation of Prestona had made
vain searches throughout the old build
ing, but the hidden treasure had never
been discovered.
Such in substance, was the story lis
tened to by Dorman with eager intent
ness, not 80 much by reason of its alb
sorbing interest, az Tor the sake of thu
fair narrator who stood resting her slim
hand on the rose trellis, az she talked
the fairest flower of all the gardens
said the young man to his own heart.
"Oh dear,I wish we could find it" re
marked Polly with frank simplicity a
she concluded her recital, at must be 81
nice to have plenty of money. Don't yol