The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1885-01-07
That Awful Ghost.

1t was probably the most blood
curdling and terror-inspiring ghost ever
seen; at least that was what Jerry
Snow, Jack Duncan and Bill MCGEE
thought, as told by William A. Russ
in The Cottage on the Hearth. They
came scampering through the field,
falling over stones and stumps, plunging
headlong into thickets and yelling at
the top of their voices, the boys did,
and the way it all came about was this:
1t was early in June. They had
started out in the afternoon to go
trouting in the pretty little mountain
stream that comes dashing down from
the side of the Ossipee range and
empties into Winnipisseo Lake at Mel
win village. With their rude fishing
tackle and box of earth worms for bait,
they had started out, bent on having
good time, and good time they did
have.
After they had followed the stream
up beyond the saw-mill, which stands at
the foot of the mountain, the fish be-
gan to bite as though they were hungry.
The brook ran through a forest which
extended from the base to the summit
of the mountain, broken here and there
along the foot of the eminence by small
clearings, which were used as pastures
by the farmers who lived farther down.
1t came tumbling and roaring down a
little ravine, occasionally falling over
lodges of greater or less height, in
beautiful cascades.
Creeping carefully through the bushes
that fringed the stream, the BOYS would
cautiously drop their hooks into the
little pools at the foot of the waterfalls :;
and sometimes before the bait actually
touched the water it would be seized
by some voracious but unwary fish, and
with an excited
"Golly! I've got 'nuther one" a
speckled beauty would be landed. This
continued until each of the three had a
noble string of trout, some ten inches,
and some three inches in length. So
exciting had the sport been that they
kept on, following the stream far up
the mountain, and it was not until it
was nearly sunset that it occurred to
any of them that it was time to start
for home.
81 say, jerry" shouted Bill, "the
sun amt more'n an hour high, an
there's a fog risin' down thar on the
lake. If you two fellers don't wan ter
stay out in the woods all night you
better be maxim tracks,
"Guess yer right" answered Bill,
who had just pulled in another nice
trout, but my gracious! don't hate
to leave such splendid fishing; never
saw anything like it; why, we've got
near about as many as we can lug
Come, Jack, hurry up"
All right; I'm ready when you are
but amt it rough to have to give it up
now? Amt 1 hungry, tho Seems
ter me l could eat one o. them trouts
raw; an it'll be two hours an half or
three hours afore we can git home, too. "
Oh! yerneedn't eat raw fish. 'Twont
take but few minutes ter cook some
an dunno but we'd travel 'nough bet
ter ter pay us for stoppin'."
But how're yer going to cook 'em?
We amt got no fryin'-pan, have WEI"
Jest pick up some dry wood an III
show yer how it's done. learned of
father when we worked cuttin' wood
over on Cow Island"
Dry wood was gathered and bright
fire started. Meanwhile Jack had
cleaned half a dozen good-sized trout,
and, spreading them open, placed them
on sort of gridiron made of green
branches. Then raking over the fire
he placed them on the glowing Goals
Pretty soon the fish began to sizzle, and
when they were Drowned on one side
they were turned over and cooked on
the other. While the cooking had beer
going on Bill had peeled pieces of birch
bark, and when the fish were done he
had some clean, fresh-looking, sweet
smelling plates all ready to receive
them.
Snow help yourselves, boys" re.
marked Jerry, as he transferred the
contents of the rude gridiron to the
dishes and seized upon attempting NOR
sci himself-but dropped it as quickly
as though it were red hot iron.
"Jerusha! amt it hot, tho'?n he eX
claimed, alternately blowing and suck
ing his fingers; "guess Wen have tel
wait fur 'em ter cool little"
In time, however, even red hot trou
will cool, and the boys enjoyed a heart,
supper. There was lack of salt ant
seasoning, but voracious appetites made
up for that.
Now, chaps" said Bill, as he fin
ished his last fish, 4" it's time fur us tu
be travelin,' an we've got ter do SOM
pooty tall walkin' if we want ter ri
home by bedtime; faint a very cas-,
road follerin' the brook down; but I'n
afeard we'll lose the way if we dom
keep nigh it, specially if that fog come
up here, fur then it'll be as dark as
stack o. black cats"
Each one then discarded his fish-pole-
they being only small, 1.-the saplings Gu
beside the stream-rolled up his fish
line and put it in his pocket, and, tax
ing his heavy string of fish, starte
down the mountain. 1t was roug
path, and as it grew darker and darke
they had much difficulty in clamberin
oversthe obstacles in their way. A
they feared, the fog crept up the mour
tain, and ere they were half way HON
it was so dark that they could scarcel
see fifteen feet ahead. But the broo
served as guide to their course, an
they followed it till they came to
clearing, about two-thirds of he wa
down.
81 guess this is Deacon Jones' field,
says Jack, as he comes to the fence
an | think we'd better go cross-lot
the rest o. the way"
I'm little 'spicious Wen git loi
in this thick fog: but at anv rate IL