The weekly Floridian. [volume] (Tallahassee, Fla.) 1867-19??, 1885-04-02
ON A GATE POST.
CHAPTlR L

doubtless, because it records part of his
llfe One night recently, while was al
his mouse, he brought out the manuscript
and read 1t to me. Although l did not
ask permission, yet l do feel that VIC
late his confidence by giving, as nearly
as can remember, the contents of the
paper which he treasured with such af
fection
The prospect was not cheerful. l wa.
rlding horse across the country whose
loneliness was as deep as a sigh which
bespeaks the long absence of some one
Night was coming on and a storm was
gathering its forces. A frightened owl
fitted past me, screaming in nv face
The time of year was when nature hesitates
whether to continue winter or begin
spring. My horse almost shook me of
when he stopped and shivered. The owl
screamed In my face again. Dead leaves,
for moment would whirl before me, and
then fall, scattered and torn as though
they had, by an angry hand, been swept
from their long, damp rest. only to be
Knocked. "What dreary, dreary place
it is )" | mused. 81 feel as though some
thing terrible is going to happen. The
air, just before the great agitation which
must come, seems quivering in it's desire
TO bear the sound of murder, murder
AS live yonder is light. Is it possible
that shall receive shelter?"
Urging my horse forward, soon
reached a small house, near the summit
OF desolate peak, overlooking the Ar
kansaw river. l dismounted near the
door-there was no fence around the
house. My horse looked appealingly at
me a"d without asking permission from
anyone within, | led the animal to a sta.
BILE close at hand and took off the saddle
and bride. AS was returning, the storm
burst upon the river. When | approach
ed the door, heard wall. | knocked
and heard the wall coming slowly to-
ward me. The door was opened by a
girl scarcely more than twelve years old.
Her face was the picture of despair She
said nothing, but pointed to bed, upon
which lay an old man, gasping for breath.
Approaching him, saw that he had but
few minutes to live. The girl knelt be-
side the old man. He tried to put his
hand upon her head. Failing, he looked
az me and | assisted him. He tried to
speak, but could not. The girl sobbed
trantically. The rain poured down and
the storm shook the house
" lie will never get we'll g." she cried.
"My grandpa will die"
Yes, her grandpa would die. His life
had already passed away The hand ly-
ing on her head was growing cold. She
looked at MIN and shrieked.
What night we spent in that house.
The storm howed and the rain fell until
nearly daylight. The girl, whom | saw
was intelligent, with an impressive face,
said that her name was Munette Logge-
mon, and that since her earliest recollec-
ton she had lived with the old man who
had spent the most of his time, since she
had begun to talk, in teaching her.
have no relatives,' she said in an
swer to a question.
Any friends ?"
No friends
"You have neighbors ?"
"Nonc. The nearest house is nearly
eight miles away"
| knew not what to do. Surely the
situation was serious. Early at morning,
we buried the old man in the yard As
best | could, / made coffin of a trough
which | found in the stable After the
burial, | went out and found enough corn
for my horse. | left Munette at the
grave, on which she had, sobbing bitter
ly, thrown herself
Where are you going, little girl ?" l
asked when | returned, still finding her
on the grave.
GLOW can go anywhere ?" she asked.
81 have no friends, told you"
sc Won noppot baro
/ cannot go away"
81 will not leave you here You must
go with me. My mother has no little
girl. She will receive YOU"
Still lying on the grave, and without
looking up, she replied:
81 will go and work for my board"
You will not have to work When l
tell my mother Of the circumstances un-
der which found you, she will take you
in her arms. Come, get your clothes. l:
is time we were leaving here See, the
sun is shining beautifully. 1t is new
day for you"
Without replying, she arose and turned
toward me. Her face, even aside from
her grief, was so sad, and her eyes wore a
look of such tender appeal that even
though she had relatives l would have
thought it my duty to take her home
with me. She went into the house and
soon returned with small bundle.
az haven't much to take" she said.
Grandpa and were very poor, and you
see, having inherited his poverty, am
poorer than ever"
was not surprised to hear her make
such a remark, for had discovered that
she never associated with children and
was consequently wise for her age
"You shall have some nice drasses after
a while," | replied.
"Pretty red ones?"
The child was asserting itself
"Yes, and blue ones"
She wept anew as We mounted the
horse-she was seated behind me- AS
long as we were within sight of the house
she said nothing, but when we had de-
scended into the thick woods she said
81 won't cry any more, if can help
it,"
"Your grandfather must have been
good to you? ?"
"Yes, but he made me read many
books that were very dull-great law
books. | don't like them. His eyes for
MANY wears have been so bad that had
to do all his reading for him. He wrote
a book full of curious things and murders
but one day when he found me reading il
E.