New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1886-12-29
PETER FAME.
BY ARTHUR DUDLEY v1SToS.

BY ARTHUR DUDLEY vINTON.
The road from Keene village to
Bethnal Corners ran zigzagging down
the side of a bill, and then, having
trayersed q stretch of level ground,
crossed Stony Brook by covered
wooden bridge, whose time.stained
walls were yet adorned with fragments
OF gaudy-colored circus posters. The
road was in none too good repair, es-
pecially on the hillside where rains
had washed bare many stones and
lett ruts and hollows, and the bridge
was dilapidated and shook omlnous-
ly under each passing vehicle or pedes-
TRAN. But there were few travellers
over either road OR bridge and the
town was poor, SO the selectmen left
it both for time and the elements to
prey upon unchecked.
At the side Of this road, lust before
it came to the bridge, stood the erist
mill and cottage OF Peter Fame, Joined
one to the other by an enclosed shed
and implanted and unadorned except
by clambering vines and the weather.
stains Of past years.
1t was the evening of the day before
Thanksgiving. In the year IS. Pc
ter Fame, the miller, stood in the
doorway of the cottage smoking his
big-bowled pipe and looking out over
the dusty road as it wound down the
hill. He was an old man, Of some 10
years, but he looked fresh and hearty.
as if likely to wealth many another
winter storm and to baSk under many
another summer sun. His long white
hair and white beard harmonized with
the hour-dusted jean overalls which
he wore, and his black eyes scanned
the scene about him with a wistful,
eager expression, as if hoping to see
some anxiousl y~exDected traveller.
But there was no moving thing nor
sign Of lire within Peter Fanes sight.
save only a belated crow swiftly
swinging his way to bis home among
the leahess trees upon the hill.
The sun was setting behind bank
OF cloud which the wind was swiftly
driving up from the northwest, and
as it's beams We're withdrawn the air
grew gray and became colder 1t was
very still; the only signs were the muir
muir Of the brook near by flowing ov-
or the stones and pebbles Of it's bed, or
the "caw, caw'' of the distant crows.
SO still was it, indeed, that the silence
seemed to force itself upon Peter
Fanes unwilling attention, and the
expression OF expectation on his face
faded and was replaced by a look OF
grave disappointment.
Seventy years had Peter Fane-as
boy and man-lived by that old mill.
He WAS but 90 when his father, dying,
left him to run the old mill, and for
so years years he had remained at his
post stationary, amid all the changes
and events about him. And how
many changes there had been; how
many friends had come or gone, died
or moved away during the lapse OF
those many years! Business had
been brisk and he had worked hard
and laid aside for a. rainy
day; business had been dull,
and he had smoked his pipe
and waited lor better times.
There was no lack OF life about the
old mill in those early years, for the
road was then a highway over which
stages and numerous teams passed
each day. There was then almost in
variably agroup around the mill door,
while within the air was always misty
with flying -four dust, and the ma
chinery kept up an almost continu-
Gus clatter. Now months sometimes
passed before the mill was set in mo-
ton, and the grass around the door
was seldom pressed by other feet than
Peter Fane's, and the passers-by we're
few and far between.
The contrast between the old times
and the new forced itself upon Peter
Fane's mind as he stood at his cot
tage door in the cleaning OF that
Thanksgiving eve, and, with a. sigh Of
regret for those vanished years, he
knocked the ashes from his pipe, and
turning back into the cottage, busted
himself in preparing his evening meal
for Peter Fanelived all alone, unless
a faithful dog can be called a colnpan-
ion.
All the day Peter Fame had been op-
pressed with that peculiar intuition
which every one feels somtimes dur
ing his life, that some one, he knew
not whom, was about to arrive. This
feeling had haunted Peter Fame; it had
brought him more than once to
the door, and now, as he sat by the
tireside, with his dog curled up at his
feet, it continued to haunt him. Yet
his reason told him that his expecta-
ton was only idle folly, for who was
there in the wide world who would
care to seek the old miller out, now
that wife, children and friends were
dead?
He sat by the fire, smoking and
thinking, until bedtime came, and then
he carefully laid his pipe upon the
shelf, and going once more to the door
opened it and looked out. The clouds
covered the whole OF the sky and the
snowAakes were falling thick and fast
and all the earth was hid beneath
t cir feecy crystals. Though the
moon and the stars were hidden, there
was yet dim light in the air that in
distinctly and vaguely disclosed the
l.