Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-12-31
CHAPTER I.
tho Dlatform at Flsinore

On the platform at Elsinore.
 This opening scene of Shakespeare's grandest tragedy is chosen by its name only as principal locality of an American story.
 Sweetest are the syllables of affection | when memory haunts the heart, when the brain is peopled with living thoughts of the dead past. So names, like historl- | cal episodes, often repeat themselves. Fond recollection holds dominion over men everywhere.
 At the head of that narrow, rock clasped marine passage between Den mark and Sweden, by which the turbu- lent waters of western Russia are carried into the North sea, sits time battered Elsi- nore immortalized in poesy and romance. Far beyond the snow crested pillows Of Atlantics mighty sweep, half way across the continent which separates that ocean from the broader unfathomed eXpanSe dividing Orient and Occident, nestling amid hills whose summits almost touch | heavens cloud wrapped finger tips, close | by woodland bordered lakes, placid in | purity, is a modern Elsinore, called so | by Danish immigrants in honor of their l birth home, never forgotten, never to be l slighted in hearthstOne communion. | NOu will scarcely find the place upon denscly crowded maps of the period. It | IS yet tl llllSc, III US lIOSllucSSI l tho germ of d buStlng, noisy, cumulative town, destined to be noted and much l talked about as one of the landmarks in a new civilization.
 To this village near the sky refecting | lakes had come, in his youth, Bertel Hendriisen. In the little colony his uncle Osric was beloved leader; wise, polite and charitable. Having no Chil- dren, he sent for Bertel to join his house hold and help to gather a fortune from the harvests of bOuntiful, sun kissed prairies. Bertcl was an orphan. Crate full for the homo and arms opened to him in America, the boy worked hard to in crease Osric Hendriksen's worldly store.
 Prosperous in their husbandry, comfort smiled where the labor hymn was cheerily sung.
 So the peaceful years glided by. Osric | Hendrikscn, old and worn, folded his hands one radiant summer evening and passed the boundary of life. It was not
 Bertel's first sorrow, but it came when
 grief makes a deep impression. Stand
 ing by the grave where kind and rever-
 ent neighbors had laid his dead bene-
 factor, the young heir felt that none of
 these friends had ever known the real
 wealth of Osric Hendriksen's heart. Yes;
 one there might be! As Bertel passed from
 the quiet churchyard a maiden's soulful
 eyes met his. Love and sympathy were
 mingled in the glance Christine Wal
 woman tears; for she, likewise an or
 phan, had learned to bless the noble virtue of him who was gone forever.
 Bertel Hendriksen was not alone. The second Christmas after Father
 Osric's death how merrily the bells pealed
 in Elsinore. Theres was wedding cele-
 brated, and a new housekeeping begun
 in the quaint and roomy dwelling by
 Mirror Lake. Sweeter bride or prOuder
 husband, the villagers all said, had never
 been seen. Surely, 9ood Osric Hendrick- sens riches would, in the hands of those
 to whom he had been more than a par
 ent, be fruitful of great blessings.
 Twenty years later. Elsimore was much the same in outward appearance.
 Thrift and contentment were pictured everywhere. Bertel had long held his uncle'ss place in the council. The old
 house had a new piazza and a double bay window graced its southern exposure. There were two Christines, now. Bertel,
 loyal lover, called them twin sisters. A beveled mantel glass and a grand
 piano made the solid mahogany frame ) horse hair cushioned furniture il
 the company parlor look rather f old fashioned but real stained Q glass, ill the bay window and vestibult
 doors, was Mrs. Hendricksen's compensa l tion for whatever the parlor lacked il a style. Time had been very tender witl
 the beautiful woman. Her second self - belle of the village at IS, was not bi l displeased when handsome, gay spirited
 Jack Robinson told her one evening d among many other nice things which sh'
 never told any body, that he considered d her mother a queen. This compliment r spoken by true prince, was more ac ceptable to the pretty, brown tresset
 whom she had never met and nigh
 never have the pleasure of being intro