Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1886-11-02
Gales aud Sketehes.
PETER FAME.
By ARTHUR DUDLEY yINTON.
CONTINUED from Yesterday

stranger replied '.for there are few mill:
| nowadays where simple man like mt
can have his grain ground; and this sacs
must be turned into meal before the NOR
rows dawn.
well then. said Peter Fame. "pu
up your horse in the shed By the mill land
come in and warm yourself All these
long years no man could say that re-
it now" And while the stranger drove
his horse into the shed as he was hidden.
Peter Fame rekindled his fire and lighted
his lamp, and as the light illuminated the
room be glanced at the clock and saw that
its hands pointed to five minutes after
midnight.
at is snowy night" said the stranger
as he entered, and standing by the fire
shook upon the hearth the snow from his
garments. 1T is snowy night, a night
when the wind is cold. an one when such
fire as this is very welcome.
Peter Fame scanned his visitor closel,
Have not seen you before? ?" he said,
pressing his hand to his brow as if in
thought. There is something in your
face which seems strangely familiar. and
yet | cannot recall the time nor place
where We have met before
1--WE meet so many men in the world"
answered the stranger, with an odd smile
upon his countenance, as he warmed him.
self by the fire. I'VE meet so many men
in the world that their faces linger with
out cause in our memories. If you your
self cannot recall the time that we have
met before cannot aid you to do So"
"Well" answered the miller as he rose
and took the lamp in his hand, Iii grist is
to be ground there is no time like the
present 10 grind it in"
Lead the way and will follow re-
piled the stranger; and Peter Fame pro
ceeded to the mill, while the stranger
walked behind.
Bring in your grist,' said Peter Fame
as he swung open the wide front door OF
the mill with many creak aud groan OF
its rusty hinges.
May not also lead in my horsep''
asked the stranger. 1t is a cold night
outside, and Your shed has many a crack
and crevice that lets in the cold north
wind. The brute is faithful brute and
has borne me well, and the shelter of the
mill is better than the shelter OF the
she'd"
LAY. lead him in" answered the mil
Ter Never truer word was spoken than
that the merciful man is merciful to his
beast IT'S fine animal" he continued,
as the horse was led forward, land, I'll
warrant, one that no ordinary amount of
labor will tire. But marvel much that
so fine a beast should be of such color y
at is not the least of his merits" re-
piled the stranger. There is not one
dark hair upon him. From eartip to hoof
his coat is white as the driven snow"
"Ie will not mind the clatter of the
mill. will hep" asked Peter Fame
mot be!' replied the stranger, lifting
down the bag of grain. Now miller
show me the hopper where l may empty
the grist.
AS with rumble and Jar and many a
hoarse moan the old millwheel started on
its revolution, the frame of the building
shook and creaked and groaned in all its
POINTS, as if in protest at this unseemly
disturbance of its rest.
1t was a quaint scene. The lamp illum-
mated only narrow circle Immediately
surrounding it. and threw the shadows of
the joists and beams athwart the darkness
beyond the bars of deeper blackness. and
cast disk Of light on the roof overhead
which seemed like sun looking down
through thick mist of clouds. Full in
the circle of light was the figure of the
aged miller. and further off, where the
light was dim (where indistinctly SEEM J.,
was the stranger. still closely mufl1ed in
his cloak. and the vague figure of the
horse and IN the back ground was the
darkness quilted with the weird shadows
of the revolving machinery, while glnts
of fire glitered from the eyes Of startled
rats as they peeped cautiously out of their
holes at the intruders.
Suddenly, it seemed to Peter Fame, as il
there came from the old house sounds of
merry laughter; and somehow, though he
was in the mill he knew that his cottage
was filed with jolly jewellers.
You seem to have gay company Won
der" said the stranger. nodding his head
in the direction whence came the merry
sounds.
$50 it seems" replied the miller "and
vet | know not who they are nor what
those sounds. nor can | leave my grist to
go and see."
But even as he spoke the door between
the cottage and the mill flew open, and a
crowd of figures trooped in. Old Peter
Fame placed his hand upon his head in
wondering thought.
Can | be asleep?n he said. "Am
dreaming that here tonight have come
the friends Of my past years. boys whom
have played with in childhood, girls that
| loved. wife and children. parents and
brothers and sisters, those whom thought
were dead-have you in truth come to me
AGAIN, or are you but the fancies of my
dreams p
And he stood erect and gazed at them
as if waiting for an answer.
Late in the afternoon of the following
day party OF the country folk. returning
homeward. passed the old mill. There
was no sign OF human life about the
premises no smoke from the chimney,
no footsteps in the snow; and yet through
the silence of the gathering twilight came
the clatter of the mill and the sad howl.
ing of dog.
"Old Peter Fame is at work in the mill. y
those country folk said as they stopped
Whose grist can he be grinding that he
works upon Thanksgiving DAY p''
Prompted by curiosity they plunged
through the drifts and knocked at the cot.
tage door. There was no answer. They
knocked again, still no reply. They tried
the door, but it was fastened
The clatter of the machinery prevents
his hearigOH said one: 'slet rs try at the