Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1890-12-08
A Night of Horror.

degrees since noun 9h0 HuuiieiiGy vi
the atmosphere and hay sky indicat-
ed a storm of some kind, whether of
snow or rain it was hard to determine.
After our evening repast, my little
family, consisting of four, including
two children, had drawn around our
genial hearth, when my ever thought
full wife remarked;
"Have you been to Mr.. Jones
about the school matter?"
81 have not / replied, ''and shall
have to attend to the matter tonight,
as the school board meets tomorrow,
and if | don't confer with him be-
fore that time it will be doubtful
about our getting the school-house at
the bend of the river"
l was one of the school directors,
and had the interest of the children
at stake. Jones was another member
of the board, and the only one who
was likely to turn the scales in my
favor.
Putting on my overcoat, and tell
ing my family that l would not be
gone long, l started out. Before
passing the door-yard gate [ heard
the earnest voice of my wife calling
after me: "You will 60 by the way
of the bridge, my dear, won't you?''
she said pleadingly.
sit is too far to 60 by the way of
the bridge tonight l replied; 81
have crossed on the sycamore log
many times in the night, and know
every inch of it. Besides, the snow
makes it plenty light enough to see
plainly if the moon is obscured by
Clouds"
''But, DEAR" she pleaded, 81 shall
worry about you; and, to please me,
do 60 by the bridge tonight"
go! you little plague" 1 laugh
ingly REPLIED "you are always bor-
rowing trouble about something.
Think no more about it and in an
hour or two l will show you that the
sycamore pass is safe"
| started off whistling a lively
tune, but did not whistle as happily |
as have done in my life; for some
how the Injunction of my good wife,
and the image Of her sweet, pleading
face, kept coming up before me be-
sides, had called her plague, and !
accused her of always borrowing
trouble, which, although pleasantly
spoken, was unjust, for she ever used
better judgment than myself, and had
l needed her entreaties, on the occa-
sion in point, it would have been bet
ter for me, as the sequel will show.
The intuition of woman is remark
able, and a true, warm hearted bosom
companion is a safe guide at all times
and especially so 10 moral sense.
Some call her sagacity weakness,
but the man who braves it when it is
melted by love is emphatically fool
hardy.
But to my story.
| reached the crossing and found
the river a good deal swollen, but the
water not yet up to the log.
The river at this point, which is
the narrowest for miles either way.
was about sixty feet wide. A large
sycamore log had fallen across reach
ing from bank to bank, but long
years before the time of which write
the top and roots had fallen into de-
cay, and only the trunk remained,
which formed a good foot bridge.
| passed over with a more careful
step than ever before, for | must adj
NIT a feeling a little akin to super
stition had taken hold of me, but
when safe on the other side a sensa-
ton of relief came, and | laughed at
my silly notions.
The visit at Jones was protracted
much longer than | expected, and
when | started back the rain was fall
ing IN great drops, and the snow was
nearly all melted away. 1t was rain
ing too hard to think of going around
by the bridge, which was fully half
mile away, so, buttoning up my great
coat, | went directly to the point
where l crossed a few hours before.
The water was higher than had
ever seen it; the log was nearly sub
and had to wade to reach
it as the rising waters had broken
their bounds.
When mounted the foot bridge it
to give under my feet, but
that impossible l pushed
along to reach the other bank.
When about midway the old syca-
more to my horror began to sway
around and in a moment shot like an
arrow down the stream.
could not keep my footing, and
dropping down sat astride the float
ing object with my legs in the chill
ing water.
| grew wild with excitement; tho t ;
of my little family, l recalled the
bright faces of my little children as | {
had seen them in the morning at the
window feeding the snow birds. Who
who would care for them if | were {
lost?
| remembered the earnest injunc-
tons of my watchful wife, or the
miles before me where nothing could
be offered to rescue, of the falls where
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