Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1889-04-12
a DOleful Tale.
Written for the HERALD:

believe SCARED" in behalf of the sub
urbs; nor shall this eve. 1t is too
sore u subject (pardon me, but associa-
ton with Terpsie has had this blight
ing effect. The BUD flippantly
informs the public that | recently
spent a night wandering about the
mountain, presumably for my health,
or possibly, in obedience to the die
tutes of an oppressed conscience,
which felt the need Of sack cloth and
ashes and instinctively sought it in
the dreary suburbs, yea aud found it;
but be that as it may-the case stands
thus: On memorable OCCASION in
the annals of Fitzville, Bros. Clifford
O'Reilly and Rice, honored us with II
visit and gave such glowing accounts
of the Gore Mill" of Geo. II. Fitzgerz
aid and its busy thriving populace,
that being what the vulgar term an
''inquisitive cuss," determined to in
vestigate on my own account. and
transmit to posterity the result of my
observations. Hence it happened that
on fine day in the latter end of
March, 1899, Il like to be exact.) l ate
dinner, IA strange thing TO do,) and
called my chum, the assistant night
manager-a noble looking mastiff
named Bruce-loaded my pipe. seized
a pair OF snowshoes belonging TO Bro.
Rice, and struck out over the mount
ain, reached the Gore without mishap,
was Hospitality received by the natives,
courteously shown the sights by the
gentlemanly Clifford. gazed in amaze
ment at the immense pile of logs,
listened to the marvellous tales of the
progressive "Charles" Tracy relative
to the Gore and its achievements, the
logging operations in particular,
favored him with few c0rkerS in re-
turn, and finally at p. III. left that
hive of industry with the conviction
that it deserved several columns in the
BUD. Hence the hasty glance accord
ed it in this doleful narrative.
Half ali hours walk brought me to
the end of the logging road. My
course now lay over the mountain un=
til struck one of the logging roads on
the other side, when of course it would
be clear sailing. AS had experienced
no trouble in crossing the mountain
earlier in the day, naturally appre-
hended none in getting back and
therefore began the ascent of the
Alpine range before Inc with the con.
selling thought that in an hours time
| would be blissfully masticating the
remains of All old steer, which Bro.
Johnson held in reserve as sort of
rarity for state occasions, and which |
knew would be trotteI out for my
benefit that eve. Sure enough after u
few minutes of laborious climbing |
beheld the path had madein coming
over, and was about to follow it's
course when noticed snowshoe
tracks leading off to the right, which
| concluded were those made by Bro.
Clifford the day before when on his
way to Fitzvile. Verify said | my
tracks run up the mountain, these
have Il 9OacnwarI tendency and pro-
badly strike the logging road back of
the camp, and without more ado, l
turned to the right and began following
them, but in careless, needless man
ner, paying more attention to the
scenic beauties of my surroundings
than to the course / was pursuing,
until it suddenly dawned upon me
that the snowshoe tracks had disapz
peared. OH we'll, thought |, it
does mt matter, it isn't but few steps
to our logging road anyway, and |
strobe along in meditative bliss, INV
mind still absorbed in its own ponder
GUS evolutions, and my feet wandering
whithersoever they would. After per-
haps an hour of this idiotic indulgence,
| condescended to remember that
was on earth, and gaZed about me in
surprise, wondering why | wasn't at
Fitzville, still | wasn't very anxious,
except for grub, and took II leisurely
survey of my surroundings and en-.
deavored to locate my position by
recalling the general form and appear
ance of the ground Ihad Travelled over
earlier in the day, but failed to discovz
er anything that would serve as a
positive landmark, though heavily
wooded ridge to the left, and lofty
range of mountains to the right com
WINGED he that | was headed straight,
but gave Inc no idea as to where the
road lay. This, however, did not
bother much, since il my supposition
was correct there must be brook in
the immediate vicinity, which if fol-
lowed would conduct me to the mill.
The brook was easily found, and ]
now noticed with considerable unz
easiness that the sun was nearly hid
from view, therefore wasted no time
i'm idle speculation, but calling the dog,
put my best foot forward" and "lit
out" in lively style. Was there ever
more exasperating brook? Now
straight ahead for ten rods, then almost
complete circle back again to the
starting point, then II straight stretch
of ten feet, away again on its zig=Zag
course until-"Oh! blast you for u
brook!" Iyelled, as my foot caught
and | went headlong into a pile OF
snow. But there was no time for VIZ
tuperaton, moments were precious, SO
was breath, and | had an important
engagement at Fitzville and was
bound to make connections, or bust;
therefore scramhling to my feet, dug
the snow out of my nose, swallowed
that in my mouth, readjusted the
goggles, cast an Indignant look at the
twig which had upset me, and forged
ahead with ever increasing anxiety,
and an impatient snarl at every tree
and bush that presumed to obstruct
my course, until at last entered what
seemed to he an immense swamp,
where my brook spread out into u
dozen rivulets and meandered off in
as many directions and finally with a
farewell gurgle disappeared beneath
the snow. | was still sane, but could
see Brattleboro looming up in the dis
lance, and felt that it was u time for
action, not words. Night was advan-
cling, darkness was already enveloping
the earth, and l was deep in the
labyrinths of a mighty forest, with no
Ariadne to give NE u clew; n healthy
appetite was making itself felt, and "a
wild longing to behold tile towers of
/ IS;tn.,;IIo boI 4, Ir,,, f,,n tNnCSnSSint nf