Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1886-02-20
TIE WITCH OF THE MOHAWK.

fine physique, good-looking in the full ac-
ceptation of the term, and highly esteemed
by the good honest Dutch in the valley of
the Mohawk. His parents died when he
was about eight years of age, leaving poor
little Brom and five-year-old blind sister,
without dollar in the world, to scramble
up the bill Of life as best they could
The good, benevolent old dominic, the
Rev. Thomas Romeyn, who attended to the
spiritual needs Of the Dutch and Indians,
became so much interested in little Brom
that he, at his own expense, sent the child
to Albany to be educated People WON
dered why the good dominic should incur
yearly donations amounted to but a trifie
more than $500.
Sometimes as he sat writing a sermon,
his good vile would attempt to demonstrate
with him relative to what she deemed such
needless expense, whereupon the old man
would deposit his goose-quill pen upon the
table, withdraw the long-stemmed pipe
from his mouth, deliberately knock the
ashes from the pipe-bowl into the box of
sand at his feet, and in the most solemn
and impressive manner exclaim Cast
your bread upon the waters, and after many
days it shall return unto YOU" He would
then return TO his pipe and pen, and the
good wife had sense enough to know that
ii would be folly to attempt to resume her
subject
Brom remained at Albany twelve long
Yeas, and when he returned to Caughna-
waga, his childhood's home, he found
everything nearly as he had left it. natural
wear and tear excepted, as lawyers say.
People during his absence had grown
oider-boys had become men. girls bad be
come women; and now and then could be
seen an old gray-haired person who had
climbed up and up, and stumbled down
and down, and pressed feebly forward, I'M
til the entire circuit of the globe OF life had
been made, and the weary wanderer rested
at tle starting point-the land of child
hood.
The natural scenery had changed but
little.
There was the same old river vending
its majestic course onward 10 the Hudson ;
there was the same oldihatboats slowly
crawling up the river with all their owners
phlegmatic patience.
There was the same old rock in the river
from which the little village derived its
name-Caughnawaga
There was the impetuous Cayadutta
creek. twice as large then and now, roar
ing and plunging with unrestrained haste
into the Mohawk, as III ough heartily glad
to escape from the cold. bleak and inhos-
pitable region north of the Mohawk,
which God in his wisdom designed as q
perpetual habitation for wild beasts and
Indians, but which design had even then
been partially, and. we trust, temporarily
interfeEed with by the cQpidity of the
whites.
Brom was too proud TO exist a mere
drone upon the charity of others. So,
when he was offered the position of village
school-teaeher at SIG per month, of 2d
days, and board around the district. he
gladly accepted the offer.
It is no eXaggeration to say that he had
pretty hard time of il. 1t cost so much
beside his board to live, and contribute to
the support OF his bind sister, that when
the old year went out, and the new year
came in, there was nothing left with which
to start upon the new year
But he was brave-hearted and energetic,
and possessed of an indomitable power OF
will Every time he felt like fainting by
the wayside he would 90 and visit the Blind
sister. and taking her delicate little hands
in his own, gaze silently into her sightless
eyes, and think of their childhood days be-
fore the poor girl met with horrid acct
dent-how they romped and roamed to-
III l1it lUi4R summer GAYS,
gathering wild flowers along the banks OF
the Cayadutta, and hunting for Indian ar
row heads on the sandy banks OF the No
hawk-how with the sainted mother long
since gone to heaven they would kneel al
the bedside and repeat the beautiful PRAYER
commencing, "0uY Father which art in
heaven" and then restraining the first
gathering tears, he would mentally renew
his yew TO fight manfully the cause of life
and conquer or die as would become q
brave man.
But at length there came time when the
poor blind girl sickened, languished, faded
and departed for another and better world
where, without the aid of mortal eyes. shs
could meet and recognize her sainted moth
er in the habitations of the blessed.
Ashley deposited the precious coffin II
its narrow resting place, and the grief
stricken man retraced his steps homewarc
from the graveyard, he felt sad, detected
and, as though there was nothing left fol
him to live for. and he mentally WISHED
that he. too, might sleep in that silent grave
yard, where the black birds twittered 81
moernfully, and the winds blew so gently
over the new-made grave, and sung such
sweet and mournfui requiems among the
stately pines.
But in course of time nature came to the
rescue, and reminding Brom that what was
his great loss was the poor blind girls ines
Unable gain, commanded him to stand uI
a man and philosopher, and continue Tx
battle for life.
Brom was human, and, IS the fountains
of grief gradually dried up, he began to
consider seriously whether il would no. be
well for him to marry
He knew that he loved with fervent de
votiOn charming Betsy Nedder. and he fell
certain that lie never could or would MARI,
any other woman.
Her parents were dead, and she wa.
living with her uncle, Myndret Dockstader
proud and aristocratic old Dutchmsn
who could boast of immense wealth and q
long line of noble ancestry. He never nae
any children, and his wife had been deac
for years.
He had, when she was a mere child
adopted his niece, Betsy Vedder. as hi.
own, permitting her out of respect to he,
dead mother, to retain the name of yedder
Betsy was also the owner in her owl
right of many broad acres in the fertile
valley, which came to her by inheritance
The idea of securing her for his wife seem.
ed preposterous. Dozens of the wealthiest
aud most aristocrsic young men in the
valley were constant in their attentions
striving to capture her heart and hand.
Surely" thought Brom. there can be
no possible chance for poor schoolmaster
like me. She cares nothing for mel True
she walks out and rides out with me, and
we sail hours together on the beautiful
Mohawk by moonlight But what of it?
She does the same with a dozen other
young men who are wealthy"
Often would he walk for hours up and
down the rivers bank, brooding over the
misfortune of being poor, and wondering
why he could not have been born rich. or.