Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-06-15

that's Jackson's, right thar. Wall, good
day, stranger; 60 up this q wav."
Nine miles from Mt jackson, and he
had not ''been down thar sence the war, "
he hadn't
wall, now, hello tharl I say, stranger,
eff you come across black heifer COW down
thar, with five tits, one smaller than the
res, an bob tail, you'll drive her back
this way, won't you?"
A SWEET VIRGINIA BELLE.
But we did not, be assured. For we had
not gone far before we came upon another
phase and colncident noteworthy. There,
directly in front of us, riding down through
the beautiful country toward Mt. jackson,
was one who answered eminently to the de-
scription of that young 'gyrl down thar
name Belle -; and we quickly discovered
the Interpretation of Uncle Esek's ''iim-
dandy" 10 mean simply dream OF lowell
ness. One indeed she was whose beauty and
personal attractions were truly remarkable.
And there was such q hearty, healthful
freedom of grace and manner in the saluta-
tion of this typical Virginia girl that the In
quiry about the distance to Mt. jackson led
to an interesting conversation; and one hour
after that. at sundown, we rode slowly, very
slowly, into the village, and were already
the best of friends. It was an interesting
episode, indeed, but more's to follow.
That night was beautiful and moonlit,
and we-this friend Of the afternoon and L
went Looping along the roadway by the banks
of the Shenandoah. Once she checked her
rein and gave vent to little, light laugh.
We had been talking of some of the local
provincialities.
'sLast fall" she said, cover yonder in the
valley between those mountains nearly
everyone was ill with chills and fevers, and
papa and 1 drove over one day with few
little com mforts, for they were very destitute.
At one of the cabins every member of the
family was ill-father, mother and seven
children.
NOT UP IN BIBLICAL MATTERS.
"Well, we went in-but am not going
to try to tell you what q miserable howell it
was; and in the room with dying woman
was a great, big, hungry-looking fellow who
had come from a distance out of the mount
aims. But this is the funny part: Striding
up to q picture on the wall-the familiar
print of the head OF Christ and the thorns-
he inquired, who thet wur :? thinking il
the likeness of some member of the family.
And when we told him who it was hs eyes
opened wide. Surely he had never heard of
Christ tor he remarked, The ole feller's
hevin' a metty hard time O. it, aim he 2"
And then my little friend laughed; put II
was odd, witchy. On the river bank, on the
most beautiful night of a year, In the most
beautiful land of America, in halloo dis
tance of some of the purest Old World
aristocracy yet in the land, and within three
miles OF this, people who had never heard OF
Christ
Over in the mountains not far from Mt
jackson lives an old desperate. Fletcher
is the name he now bears; but number
have gone before it and were each in their
turn disgraced. He has been thrice in
the States prison, has killed two men and
one woman, and bears a record of little"
crimes uuequalled, it is said, by any of his
class now living and free. He has done
something now for which he is expecting
the arrival OF the authorities every day; for
when we rode mp to his hut woman, young
and fair long ago, and fallen, informed us
that "Mr. Fletcher was away" conveniently
away; while she kept the hotel with two
long shining revolvers dangling from her
belt. These mountains have long been a
safe retreat for criminals, and they are now
full of retired boys with shady records and
old men desperadoes of many kinds and
much cunning.
STORY OF A MONUMENTAL
Three miles southwark from NJ Jack