The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1884-07-03
sa~~.i Msrri.As's Aavssssrss

To q stranger psssiss through Me vii
iage ~ Cobonsss On No,tnhsf alter
ncon. there would have bcen but little o
interest 10 its strss,. that wandered aion,
10 . zigxag. uneeriain way, as though !
did not know exactly where il wished |,
90. aud cared still less about IT,
On either side Of this srraiic road. stood
lihe usnsl white frame hsusGs Of the Nsv
BnelasA Csansxy. isAfmpsrsed here and
thess bya Fer, hieh. with Bold inposs
,ion had been painted dove color. ol
quiet brown.
II was In the middle Of such comforta'
ble homes that the old road wandered on
the houses becoming more and more seat
I,sred. until il came " 40 sbrupt end, Al
1the gate ofs dwelling somewkss more
prsteetious than tbcrest. This hopse pos.
iss~ed IN nscessary sAjsnss~6be usual
supply OF windows and doors. the inevisa'
BILE wood sbed and barn--were all ihsrs,
and the ornamental woodwork indicated
unmistakably, that. ia some past tame.
this house had been one Of the leading
houses in tho village.
i And so. indeed. it had. Bright candls
light had shene Hospitality from the win
doss now 80 dingy. and, with one or tive
exceptions, barred up by close drawn
shutters.
The old rooms, now so quiet-save for
the occasional ksawing Of mouse behind
the uainscst = had fung with the tones Of
merry voices. and the blazing hearth had
eAtesied its glowing welcome. where now
not even ashes remained to tell Of past
pleasures.
No sound OF lite or movsnent was dis.
cernable about the place, and indiscriba-
Bile was the veil OF drearyiness and loneli.
ness which had descended upon and envel-
oped this old house.
We say, "no signs OF life" There was
one; but the prim female face which
looked frem one OF the windows was so in
consonanee with it, surroundings, that it
would hardly occur TO ones mind to call
it h "sign of life. y fT
The slender face, with faded, timid look
ing blue eyes, was framed in by light
brown hair, beautifully sprinkled with
grey, and carefully arranged to cover the
thin places which the owner discovered
now with alarming frequency. The head
was surrounded by cap Of black net, fin
ished with small bow Of lilac ribbon.
The carefully preserved lace collar was
fastened by mourning brooch, which had
embroidered upon it, With the hair Of
Miss Abbie's parents, most impossible
female figure weeping over an equally i'm
possible urn; the threadbare msrino dress
Of an antique pattern; the black silk
apron with many darn, and the slender,
almost bloodless fingers, in which was
held woolen stocking ia the process Of
being knitted, bespoke the delayed gen
tlswsmsH and il such guiss we present to
oar readers Miss Abbis F5ler, spinister;
| age, Ilss discreet whisper softly sigh,
80, and sole representative Of long line
Of respected ancestors.
As Miss Abbis gazed anxiouslv down the
road, the figure Of fAman appeared through
the November fog, which was gradually
concealing the dreary landscape, and the
sight apparently gave Miss Abbia much
satisfaction. for she folded her stocking
with sigh Of relief, and sticking all four
needles ints her ball Of yard, prepared to
open the door for her visitor.
Not the trent door, hewsver, that had
not been opened in many years. Miss
Abby did not entertain company, and any
visitors she might bavs wers not only on
too intimate tsrms to care but they pre-.
ferred the warm kitchen to the vault-like
feeling Of the very littls used rooms on
the other side Of the house. ef
The man liftsd the latch Of the gate and
came up the walk.
"Good evening. Miss Abbie." be said,
with grating. though not unkindly voice.
II tried to get here sooner but Squire
Evans hired man hurt his arm in the corn
shelter, and l had to help him finish the
work guess I'm just III time, Tor your
voosl pilsAunst he getting powerful low. :
He ass man above middle height, with
decided stoop in his shoulders. His
hands swung listlessly at his side, and be
had slew, thougbtful manner OF speak
ing. A he walked his eyes were gener-
ally bsnt upon bis mother eartli and, in
truth, not few were tho lessons Simeon
Knowles had learned from the book Of
nature.
Wathout asothsr word be began to take
| of his coat, at the same Time moving to-
ward the shed door, whom Miss ALby's
voice arrested him. with;
"No. Sineon. come 10 and warm your
self, frat: I've mise fire here, and tits
cold this sfternoon. Ali was there not
. spice OF natarsl ouriosity mingling with
the kind ness which prompted this iavita
ton? For the daily stage had arrived,
snd Simeon possessed the news.
The man hesitatsd moment. but
glance at the blaxing hearth proved too
great temptation. aud Miss Abbie. plac-
ing a chair before the fire. settled herself
for comfortable gossip.
mo letter. Of course, Simsonip Ahe
ssked and tksn added With sigh: Il
don't know Who wsuld write 10 me, Ter !
Lsven't relative in the world wsem ]
have sees since l sss htsls sifl.'
NO. Miss Abby, no letter, qaeih sim
eos: ..but they Dc say AZ how your cons-
il Amos Tyler will be the very next may
or Of NJ"