The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1886-01-21
STORY OF THE Old MILL.

mill, and the artist sat long with his
pencil in hand and his sketch. book
open before him, as he looked over the
narrow stream to the spot where it
stood.
''It's deserted spot now," said a
voice behind him, as q man halted in
the narrow footpath through the
woods; ''it's deserted enough now, but
l remember when it was full of hustle
and life, and that was not so many
years ago as you might think, either,
SIR
''Not many years." repeated the
artist, looking up. 1T does indeed
look very desolate."
''Well. not many years as I look at
it," answered the man, "but it might
seem long enough time to you.
Eighteen years of your head would
leave you quite young stripping,
take it,
$50 it is eighteen years since the
mill was inhabited?" asked the artist
again. anxious to hear the particulars.
Nigh about eighteen years. re-
piled the man. If you amt too busy
now,' with glance at the sketch
book, II wouldn't mind telling you
about it. Every one knows the story
in these parts, and they do say as how
the mill is haunted; but l never be-
lieved IN that. l know how such
things get started; the water running
under that wheel, in dark night, and
the wind whistling among those boards
sounds dismal enough to any one
going along this lonely path, or the
road over the other side; and then,
when you remember what happened, it
does seem kind of awesome.'
II see," answered the young man.
moving along to make way for his
companion. 'It's dreary enough in
the daytime and it would be unbear-
able at night. But you were going to
tell me what happened"
SWELL then, to begin at the begin
ming, said the man, laying down his
axe and taking the profered seat, Il
must tell you that that little house over
yonder, behind that clump of under
brush, at the other side of the mill
you can't see it from here, but you must
have passed it this morning-that little
house was where they lived, the miller
and his wife. They bought it when
they were married, for he had some
money on hand which was left him by
his father. And then. when they got
married, they put their earnings togeth-
er, for she was thrifty girl and had q
store of her own, and they furnished it
just as nice as could be. There was
nothing great or grand in it, of course,
but everything was 80 cosy and home
like; and there never was king more
proud of bis palace than poor Dave was
OF his snug little cottage.
:'When he went home at night there
was Rosy always ready to meet him at
the gate, and then they would look over
the beds OF posies together and see how
fast they were growing; for Dave took
great stock in his posy beds, and often
worked at them evenings, wedding and
fixing them up. Why, sir, they were as
happy as two children, was Rosy and
Dave.
''Well, things went on this way for
over year. and every one was setting
great store by Dave; but all at once his
old habits began to crop out again.
He had been trifle wild before he got
to keeping company with Rosy; but
every one thought she would make q
new man of him, and for a while she
did. But just about this time some of
his old companions came back to the
village. They had always had great
influence over him, and it soon began
to show itself again. They would go
down to the mill to meet him late in
the afternoon, and sometimes he would
stop running little earlier than usual
to have talk with chem. He was q
jolly, kind-hearted fellow, and didn t
realize the danger he was in; when
they brought their bottles he had not
strength to resist their temptation or
bear their ridicule. Then it began to
be a common thing for Rosy to wait at
the gate long time, with her pretty
blue eyes fixed on the road where he
would come in sight. Sometimes a
neighbor would happen along instead,
and she would turn at the first glimpse
and run into the house-it hurt her to
let any one see that her Dave was not
doing just right or that she was uneasy
about him.
by and by the roses began to fade
from her cheeks, and she was more
like lily than the Rosy we used to
know; but she never complained, and
when any one would try TO put in a
word of sympathy she would actually
try to make out that she didn't know
what they meant. She couldn't bear
to own that her husband did anything
wrong. "Well, time went on and
things kept going from bad to worse,
for he was getting so unsteady that no
one could depend on him. When the
farmers took in their grist to be ground
they never knew when it would be
ready for them to bring home again,
Dave was careless, and he was growing
surly, too. So there came long after.
Moons when the mill stood idle, and the
miller lay down in some quiet corner,
more than half stupefied with drink.
Poor Rosy used to come after him
sometimes and try to get him home,
but it wasn't much use; she often got
nothing but harsh words and orders to
leave him alone. She was a broken
hearted woman, and that was plain to
everybody.
AT last there came a spring morn