The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1888-05-24
MOVED IN.

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Fred"
Four members of the Bicycle Tour
lists Club wero relating their adven
lures of the past season, and tho one
last addressed, tall, handsome athlete,
laughed slightly as he knocked the
ashes from his cigar before replying.
/ IA droller adventure than mine,
boys, never happened. There's the pa
thetlc, the ludicrous, the tragic, the
sentimental, all combined in this story
of mine, and it's true, every word of it.
1t happened, let mo see, just six weeks
ago today.
II went with Clark and Anderson,
you know, up to Bethlehem; from
there to the White Mountains; then
to Lancaster.
Snow just before starting mother
said 10 me, coaxingly:
"If you 60 as far as Lancaster, don't
forget that Janet Harding, the only
cousin have in the world, lives in tho
next town.
"All right Ireplied. Janet Hard
iag lives Ia the next town to Lancaster.
I'll remember.
'Janet Harding unmarried would
have boon bad enough, but with hus-
band, two giddy girls, and an over
grown boy Of II, could l stand it9
Mother thought l could, and mother
rules our house.
"When we started on our bicycle trip
to Dixvillc Notch I planned to see the
Hardings; bowl leisurely up to the door,
Introduce myself to Mrs. H., joke with
the girls, and then proceed; but man
proposes, etc.
Gas luck would have it my bicycle
broke down and had to leave it at the
Falls, little village five miles from
Lancaster, for repairs. Clark and An
derson went on without me to North
Stratford, where l was to meet them by
train, and proceeded on foot to the
Harding farm, some two miles from the
Falls.
"The farm, smooth interval dotted
with fields of ripening grain, and the
large veran ndahed house, and great
roomy barns clustering about it, but
not too near, all bespoke plenty, com
fort and hospitality.
Hospitality, did I say3 Well, 1
shan take it back, although 1 found
the door locked and not living thing
in sight except an old white hen.
Mark tho exception for that hen plays
an important part in my adventure.
81 noticed her, and in particular
marked the proud, complacent STEP the
conceited 'car-car' she uttered, as she
looked at me knowingly from the cor
ner Of her eye. Little did think-but
no matter. You will see by and by the
golden thread that binds all the points
together.
"Well, here we were, the white hen
and ], but Janet Har ding was not, nor
the girls, nor the boy, nor Mr.. Harding.
81 decided to 60 to the barn and lie
down on the hay, the new-mown hay,
and await their coming.
'.For me to think, is to act. A few
minutes later l had climbed to the NOW
and ensconced myself under brace in
the corne- where the afternoon sun
glinted through long crack, making
slanting dust-beams across my breast.
Il made few verses as l lay on the
fragrant hay, but didn't poetize long.
fell asleep and I dreamed, and my
dreams grew thicker and blacker and
heavier, until at last dreamed that
Janet Harding and her whole family
were seated on my stomach, and oh, the
pressure! 1 groaned and walked my
sefup, but wasn't much better off
then, for Egyptian darkness reigned
about me, except for the crack where
the light still sifted through.
"Where was II What was the matteri
couldn't think, the horrible pressure
was so maddening. All about, around,
above, was packed piles of oats, not
shelled oats, you know, but oats before
they are threshed, on the stock, or
whatever you call it. While I was
asleep ! had been moved in, and that's
all there was toit, except that couldn't
move hand nor foot. Two or three
loads must have been thrown on top of |
me, trod down, and clinched, SO to
speak.
"Well, tumbled around bit and |
got my hands free and pokcd the grain