San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1889-01-12
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He then gave the reins to his horse, which
he restrained with difficulty, and disappeared
a moment. A few days afterwards 1 met
the man a little this side of Clarelnont, wind
ing around the hills in Unity, at the rate,
believe, of twelve miles an hour.
"Is Peter Rugg his real name"
81 know not, but presume he will not deny
his name; you can ask him-for see, he has
turned his horse and is passing this way"
In moment q dark colored, high spirited
horse approached, and would have passed
without stopping, but | had resolved to
speak to Peter Rugg, or whoever the man
might be. Accordingly | stepped into the
street. and as the horse approached made
feint of stopping him. The man Immediately
refined in his horse. "Sir," said |, ''may l be
so bold as to inquire if you are not Mr..
Rugg, for | think ! have seen beforeY'
"My name is Peter Rugs" said he, 81 have
unfortunately lost my way; am wet and
weary and will take it kindly of you to direct
me to Boston"
"You live in Boston, do you, and in what
street,"
'In Middle street"
"When did you leave Boston?"
81 cannot tell precisely; it seems a consid-
cradle time"
"But how did you and your child become
so wets 1t has not rained here today"
sit has just rained a heavy shower up the
river. But shall not reach Boston tonight
if tarry. Would you advise me to take the
old road or the turnpikel'
"Why, tho old road is one hundred and
seventeen miles, and the turnpike is ninety
seven"
GLOW can you say so? you impose on me;
it is wrong to triHe with a traveller; you
know it is but forty miles from Newburyport
to Boston"
"But this is not Newburyport; this is Hart
ford"
"Do not deceive me, sir Is not this town
Newburyport, and the river that have been
following the Merrimac"
"This is Hartford, and the river the Con-
necticut."
He wrung his hands and looked incredu-
lous.
'Have the rivers too changed their courses,
as the cities have changed placess But seeI
the clouds are gathering in the south and we
shall have rainy night"
l had now, as l thought, discovered a
clew to the history of Peter Rugg,
and I determined, the next time my bust
inquiry. Soon after was enabled to collect
the following particulars from Mrs. Croft,
an aged lady in Middle street, who has re-
sided in Boston during the last twenty years
She says:
The last summer, person, just at twilight,
stopped at the door of the late Mrs. Rugg.
Mrs. Croft, on coming to the door, perceived
a stranger, with child by his side in an old
,,%lx
The stranger asked for Mrs. Rugg, and was
informed that Mrs. Rugg had died more than
twenty years ago.
Tho stranger replied, "How can you de-
ceive me 500 do ask Mrs. Rugg to step to the
door"
'Sir, l assure you Mrs. Rugg has not lived
here these nineteen years"
The stranger paused and looked up and
down the street, and said, Though the paint
ing is rather faded this looks like my house."
YES" said the child shat is the stone be-
fore the door that used to sit on to eat my
bread and milk"
But" said the stranger, sit seems to be on
the wrong side of the street. Indeed, every
thing here seems to be misplaced. The
streets are all changed, the people are all
changed, the town seems changed, and what
is strangeSt of all, Catherine Rugg has de
serted her husband and child. Pray" con-
tinued the stranger, 'has John Foy come
home from sea- He went on a long voyage;
he is my kinsman. If / could see him he
could give me some account of Mrs. Rugg"
Sir" said Mrs. Croft, 81 never heard of
John Foy Where does he liveg"
"JuSt above here, in Orange Tree lane"
"There is no such place in this neighbor-
hood"
What do you tell mel Are the streets
gone? Orange Tree lane is at the head of
Hanover street, near Pemberton's Hill"
There is no such lane now"
Madam, you cannot be serious. But YOU
doubtless know my brother, William Rugg.
He lives in Royal Exchange lane, near King
street"
81 know of no such lane; and | am sure
there is no such street as King street in this
town."
"No such place as Eing street, Why,
woman, you mock me. You may as well tell
me there is no King George. However,
madam, see am wet and weary. will go
to Harris tavern, near the market"
(Which market, sir9 We have several
markets"
"There is but one market, near the town
dock"
Lob, the old market; but no such person
has kept there these twenty years."
Here the stranger seemed disconnected, and
uttered to himself quite audibly-"Strange
mistake; how much this looks like the town
of Bostonl 1t certainly has a great resem-
blance to it; but perceive my mistake now.
Some other Mrs. Rugg, some other Middle
street.
''Then," said he, 'can you direct me to
Boston?'
"Why, this is Boston, the city of Boston"
CITY of Boston, it may be; but it is not