Clinch Valley news. [volume] (Jeffersonville, Va.) 18??-2019, 1890-03-14

AOr my kccplnS IL LOT summer place, L
should never come here summers any
moro than I should winters, So where
would be the use2
"Why, my dear girl, aside from tho
fact that the place is haunted, which it
is with memories, if nothing more, it is
SO vast, so gloomy and so damp that no
human being could be happy in it, and
to descend to minor drawbacks, there is
not door that can open myself, nor n
window that can raise. The doors are
not made with knobs, but with kind
of hanging handle set on thick brass
cscutcheon which I suppose holds n
latch, but it takes genius to manage it.
Then the windowsl To raise one of them
you must press small brass knob set in
the side of the frame, which takes all the
strength of one hand, aud if you can lift
the sash with the other you arc
stronger than l. And then to pro-
ceed with my objections: The
beds! They are great catafalqucs, with
a kind of petticoat all about them,
which hangs down to the floor, and
posts which reach to the ceiling, aud
hold thick cloth curtains upon rods ut
their tops. There was never anything
more hearse like. My grandmother Ian
dor died in the one that have, and two
of her daughters died there before her.
II is all very well to ask why 1 do not
take another room; but they are all
alike; somebody has died everywhere.
Aunt Augusta and papa are the only
ones of grandfathcr's immediate family
who lived to be over twenty-five.
"Aunt Augusta showed me watch
mans rattle which she keeps in case
robbers should ever come There
never used to be any robbers, she said,
but times were changed; so she keeps up
with the progress of the century /
asked her how she expected that the
rattle would serve her, and she said that
if robbers came she could shake it out
the window, 'if they would let her.
thought that n conscientious burglar who
loved his business probably would not
'let her, but did not tell her so.
"Poor Aunt Augusta! She is sweet
little creature naturally. 1 asked her
plainly the other day if she would not
leave the retainer in charge of the house,
and come and stay with mamma and me.
You would have thought that was pro-
posing the most impossible thing in the
world. WHY, child, this is my homcl' p
she said. Il shall live and die here' In
her heart think that she is afraid of the
rctaiucr-a hale and hearty old woman
who has served the family all her life,
and hates me because do not favor the
Landors'
"No, an Obliged to her! I should
be i'll my grave by this time if did
"Aunt A. tells Inc some very pretty
stories of our 'forerunners.' One of my
young great-aunts was rash enough to
run away and be married, and when she
came back to see her father for the first
time, she stood at the library window,
not daring the come in; and there he sat
alone, with the letter in his hand which
she had left; and as she stood she heard
him say: ooh, daughter daughterl so
kindly and sadly that she forgot her
fears, and rushed in to comfort him and
be forgiven. She died when she WAS
twenty. There is beautiful little mini
atuyc of her in muslin dress, and with
white turban wound thousand times
about her head. 1 nope that you are
able to sustain an interest in my rela-
tions; they seem to fill my letters as they
do my mind.
''I think that one of the queer things
in living IN hamlet ls the interest
which Strange people take in your affairs
The postmaster doesn't even wait fer me
ID tell him the number Of Aunt A. IS box,
but hands me its contents with the most
friendly smile. The other day, when f.
c. letter came, he fairly bcamed, as if
the fact that he knew its address to be
in masculine hand were the one touch
OF nature that made us kin; and enc old
gentleman, with whip in his hand,
who only saw the box from which the
letter was taken. asked rae if belonged
to Square Landor's folks because he
used to know the square, was glad
to shake hands with hin, for he was
fire old man, with kind. honest eyes.
'Thank +. &. for his letter. | really
wish that he would write again. If you
should ask me what being I think the
happiest in the world, l should say
young college-b bred man.
'Good-by, my dear. Tell mamma l
sent her my love. She is always so de-
lighted to see you that am glad you find
it in your heart to call so often"
year had passed before another let
ter from the same author was written un-
der the roof of the Landor mansion; a
year which told no more upon the stout
old house than if it had been but n single
day. Yet the appearance of affairs was
different, for there were many people
about, and every shutter and window
stood open to the sun.
"My dearest NJ" writes the yorng
correspondent, 81 am sure you will IN
derstand and forgive my not having writ
ten you before, there has been so much
to do, and wanted time when should
write to tell you everything. The funeral
was on Thursday. Poor pathetic little
Aunt Augusta