Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1889-07-26
THE STORIES THE BON
FIRE TOLD US.
BON
-Sn1lny Hours.
BY MERCY HATHS0N.

The scene was in the country, few
miles out of Holly, little town in cen
trail Michigan. The time, somewhere
about the middle of July, IS. And the
characters, the different members of
the Cady family, John Decow, rising
young farmer, Hiram Doolittle, q gen
tleman Of leisure, and myself.
Five O'Clock supper was over. The
rich, red sun was beginning to sink into
the golden splendor of that billowy sea
of light, which it creates anew each
eventide, and that well-known feeling
of peaceful lonesomeness so common to
country homesteads was settling down
over the farm and its inhabitants
When Mile, the harum- scarum 10
year-old, came dasl,ing into the house,
calling out at the top Of her voice:
Say, YOU girls! why amt you to the
fire? John Decow's Jest down the road,
and he's burning most all the woods up,
/ reckon!'
There was no need for more In a
second Bertha had dropped her crochet
work, and my sketch; and the next
moment we three girls were bounding
across the old-faslioned garden, over
the fence and into the melon patch,
with our clothes and the melons FLYING
in wild confusion, then through the
corn field, and finally we reached the
verdant meadow, where til COWS were
still mildly grazing.
With a mad rush, We cleared the
baEb-wlre fence separating the meadow
from the highway, Just as one old COW,
aroused from its usual stupor. took a
step or two forward to see what was
going on.
BY this time wehad reached the scene
Of the conhagratior? I suppose the
weather that day had fallen short of
John Decow's idea OF what July heat
should be. So that evening he had I'M
tremendously piled up heap of broken
boughs, right on the side of the main
road, and set fire to them.
we had been warm from our exer-
tons III getting there; but we felt de-
cldedly more so when we came into
close proximity to that roaring mass of
flames and twigs and splinters. There
was a wood-pile few feet back from
the fire, which made very convenient
perch for us girls, as we peered into the
glowing flames and complimented John
on his ingenious entertainment.
Meanwhile, Hiram Doolittle saunted
up.
Amt the fire fearful red deep down
IN the center?" Mile exclaimed, afte,
watching it in silence for O few mo.
mcnts.
Yes" said I, cit looks good deal
like fire | say in the city a few months
ago. Fourteen nine-story buildings
burned down inside Of an hour, and any
number OF people killed.
My /! you don't say sol" Hiram ejecu
lated why, that must ha' been pretty
near as bad when them barbarian
Geeks burned up Rome, q few years
ago! And swan! if them thar stick
ashes on the ground over yonder DOM
look jest about like the pillows of the
capitol did, when Rome was cremated ~
(Hiram Doolittle was a great reader
you must know, and his speciality was
ancient history.) We were all deeply
impressed, and showed our admiration
by mutely glaring into his red-browr
visage, with it's fringe of grizzled beard
and the pair of limpid blue eyes, made
bright by the rejecting light from tbs
fire.
Then Bertha, who possessed vigorous
imagination, ventured to speak up, will
her eyes fixed on the ruddy freight.
No, Hiram, it don't look so to me
It's more like one of those enormous
ships that go up North to hunt for
passage to Asia. And those burned-out
branches are the ice-bergs. It's early
morning and the Aurora Borealis *
just rising. The sailors are waving
their handkerchiefs. At it, they're sc
glad to have light of any kind in those
dark, desolate regions!"
Illustrate, Berthy" was John
who spoke now-"but that fire tells me
something different from both of your'n.
It's just this way: There was man
q billionaire-come here years and
years ago, and he had so much gold he
didn't know what to do with it all. So
he bo5al ''oles in the trees around here,