Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-05-22
CHAPTER XXI
rHE GREYHoUND INN.


 hills, in places dark with the soft grouping of trees, and here and there break of Jus trous water, went the white level road that led to Winston; cornfields to right and left, and tracts of vivid green soar ing, and the bland Of the ocean shining between the two tall heights of cliff
 Along this road, with steps that offered nc defiance to time, walked Jenny and her old companion
 At last, coming to turn of the road-a truly magnificent bend of lofty hedge, with golden monuments of hay behind, and a rich cool orchard beyond again-there ap- peared at the very rottom, or end of it, rather, for level as a river it ran just here, gray stone front with ivy grandly en- dowed, and fuNcher on row of little cot tages, with church to the right of them, pointing flaming apex to heaven.
 "Here we are, dearie!" exclaimed Mrs. Mead. "Winston at lastl And the Lord bless 1t for coming upon us just when I'm be- ginning to think thy box here hath some pounds O lead at the bottom ont"
 "Let me carry it now," said Jenny, in a painfully languid voice.
 "No, no. I'm still good for that bit O dis tance Dye see that board hanging up yon- dera That's the Greyhound; an' if there be no fire r the kitchen thatn bile us a dish O tea, Sally'n have no more O my love, though it bain't six o'clock yet, if the sun don't lie."
 A little inn was the Greyhound, to take the eye in a picture as 8 sweet bit of rustic painting, for simplicity inimitable. The building stood looking up the great high way, of which the road from Greystone was but a vein or tributary, so to speak. From the upper windows of this inn the highway could be followed, rising and falling in a white lina, until to right and left it van ished in tiny thread of white among the blue shadows This was the great road to London from the southeastern coast of Eng. land; and the coaches that ran upon it were, by Greystone travellers, met twenty-one miles onward at famous ancient city, to which they were borne by Mir. Franklin's coach, chosen often in preference to this stage of Winston, as it saved a walk or the hire of a hackney coach, and 1t was Q pleas ant ride.
 Paying small heed to the scrutiny of slow eyes at the windows and doors of the cot tages, Mrs. Mead, preceding Jenny, led the way to the door of the inn, and finding it locked, put down the box and pulled the house bell hard.
 They had not long to wait. A servant, newly risen, came to the glass, and after a prolonged stare at Mrs. Mead's features, opened the door. .=.r
 "Tell Mrs. Walker that Judith Mead is come from Greystone to see her. And take this here box and lead us to room wi chairs int, whiles our legs have life in lem, ye don't want the job of carrying of us," ex- monished, ridding the old lady of her bur- den, conducted her and Jenny into parlor to the right of the bar.
 With groan of weariness the old woman tumbled herself down upon a chair and Jenny sank languidly upon 8 sofa.
 "Well, if ever should hal believed Wins ton to be so far!" exclaimed Mrs. Mead, lift ing her bonnet off her gray hair and throw ing it upon the table.
 "How do ye feel, dear hearta Tired you look as niver see the like; but have prom ised thee a good snatch O sleep betwixt breakfast and the coach hour, and that yell git. And here is Sally, whose mother I re- mimber as the prettiest- -waisted wench f this part O the country. Don't courtesy to me, my dear, for my bonesU not allow of my rising. How are ye-how are ye"
 She addressed these words to stout, suddenly into the room, and now stood star ing at and courtesying first to Jenny and then to Mrs Mead
 Sally" continued the old woman, Eve have walked all the way from Greystone to get a sup O breakfast afore t coach starts. What have ye got f the house to comfort tn inside of an old friend-and a lady, whose beauty should make ye proud tc sarve herr Speak out, my love, and nive1 fear to name thy choicest. Is 1t pretty slice from tender side O bacon, with the eggs which the hens are now singing over and a pot O thy best tea, wi cream to give it dainty color3 That will do-that will do, Sally; but I'll not gi' ye farden for il all, if ye don't make the saucy wench, as ogled me through your glass door, brisk ir cooking of it."
 aWhat! Mrs. Mead' Who'd iver ha thought of seeing you this time O marningl' cried Mrs. Walker in rich, clear voice "Where be ye going by t coach9 Not to Lun non, at thy time O life! We'll, welll only last night did say to Roger: Next time thee goest to Greystone, see that ye fill tho big. gest basket wi the largest gooseberries fol Mrs. Mead, that she may know Sally is alive and wishes her health.' How strange now! An it's breakfast you're wanting al onces That you shall have, an quickly. Hi! Marthap she called at the door; and 6 voice answered, "Here I be, missis" "Rur out and bring in what eggs ye can find, and first set the kittle on; and if ye stay talking with jackanapes Johnny, I'll know you b1 my clock, which am lookina. at now There's breakfast for two to ret, and il
 Mechanics Hotel.