The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1884-01-18
SOPHY'S FRIGHT.

1t was March in the wild Maine for.
eSts, but it might as well have been mid
winter for all the appearance of spring
that there was in those desolate re-
gions. The pines and spruces were all
bowed down with their weight of snow,
the 'sS1lent Lake. was frozen until il
shone like sheet of blue steel, and the
sloping roof Of the sportsman Re-
treat" was covered with pearly masses
of whiteness. To Mrs. Fay, who had
come from a crowded city, it was very
lonesome, but the children jumped and
danced about in the snow, and declared
it was "lovely."
Aunt Hepsy Smith lived there. and
took winter care of the little tavern
for hotel it could scarcely be called
while her son John, sturdy giant of
two-and-twenty, was cutting down trees
on the mountain-side, and sometimes
did not come home for two or three days
at time,
Mr.. Fay, who was Aunt Hepsy' Is
nephew, had gone into partnership with
John in the numbering business, and
had taken feet of RATS down the
river, while his wife had come to this
solitary spot, with her two little girls.
Sophy and Sissy, to stay with good
Aunt Hepsy until his return.
''But l never thought it was right out
in the wilderness" said she, or
wouldn't have come"
For Mrs. Fay had lived all her life in
city, and the frozen solitudes of the
country were a new experience to her.
"Oh, you'll get used to it" said
Aunt Hepsy. '.It'S pretty gay in sum-
mer-time, when the city folks all come
out here. La! you ought to see the
boats on the lake, and a little steamer
once week. =
''Where are the boats now, Aunt Hep
syP" asked Sissy, a plump little lass Of
four years old.
"All locked up in the lighthouses,
half mile off," Aunt Hepsy answered,
''Are there any Indians in these
woods?'' said Sophy, who had just been
reading 1.-The Last of the Mob cans, y
and whose little head was full of "Un.
cas- and "Chingachgook. =
LA, no, childp' said Aunt Hepsy.
'Once in a while the squaws come
through, selling baskets, in the sum.
mer-time, and old Pia, who begs cold
victuals, was here once-.a regular old
rascal, who would sell his soul for pint
of whisky. There isn't nobody here
now but lumbermen and trappers, and
that sort of people
''What do they set traps forP" said
Sissy" mice?"
"Furred creatures. j." explained Aunt
Hepsy; martens and sables and minks,
and all them vermin. -
But in few days Mrs. Fay began to
se reconciled to the snow and the soil
tude. They kept great blazing fires in
the sitting-room, and Aunt Hepsy had
plenty of books in homemade book
case, and there, came story papers every
week from New York and Boston, for
John was great reader when he was
at home. And John promised to make
Sissy little ermine tippet the very next
ermine that he caught in his traps, and
described to Sophy a fine bee-tree,
which he had already marked for his
own.
"We'll go after the honey one OF
these days" said he. ''Do you like
biscuits and honey?n
"Oh, don't | thought" cried Sophy,
clapping her hands.
One day a neighbor came to ask
Aunt Hepsy to go half across the island
on his rude board sledge, to see his lit
tie. daughter, who was very i'll with
diphtheria.
''Of course I'll go" said Aunt Hepsy,
''but l don't know much about the dis
ease
Mrs. Fay did, however. Sophy had
once been very i'll with it, and so she
volunteered to go also, and give what
aid she could.
Cant we go, too, motherP" said So
ply, .n.
you want to catch the diphtheria
again?''
So while the two women got ready
tor the long, cold ride, Mr.. Nuttall-
which was the neighbours name
amused the little girls by telling them
how he had seen ''painter" in the
woods as he came down.
"a reg'l lar roarer!n said he. 1.-The
size of calf, most
"What is painter?n said Sissy. "Is
t a tree9''
ssNo, it's a pantner," said Mr.. Mutt
all. "A monster wild cat They're
dreadful fierce creatures; but you don'i