The Windham County reformer. (Battleboro, Vt.) 1876-1897, 1891-09-18

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A cavalier Of the true mountain tHpe.
Mocking birds, brown thrushes, cal
birds, cardinal grosbeaks and many
other sweet voiced birds were filling the
pocket" with song.
Beside the door of the old mill. in the
shade OF a mulberry tree now just get
ting its broad tender leaves. sat dark
faced man, whose eyes had in them that
peculiar gloominess which comes Of long
indulgence in retrospection and discon-
tent. 1t was easy to see that he was a
cripple. An iron shod wooden leg pro
truded from one division OF his jeans
trousers, and heavy walking staff lay
across his lap His face was not unat
tractive, with its broad high forehead
! its well turned jaws and its arstocratic
nose and chin There was a suggestion
of unavailable power in it. The heavy
gray mustache dropped over full.
almost sensual. mouth, in whose corners
lurked the merest hint of that haughti
ness which was so marked an element in
the personal outline of the high bred
southerner of the ante bellum days
That he was wreck which the late war
bad left stranded here in this sweet
southern valley could be discovered by
u glance.
Before the war he had been the owner
Of many slaves, u magnificent mountain
home and broad plantation farther
down the country" ~ the phrase went.
Now he was the owner of the little old
uiossy Pocket Mill. whose big dripping
wheel and rasping 'buhrstones served to
grind ont for him and his family a hum
ble subsistence His two daughters
aided him to serve the customers who
brought their grain thither for grinding
His SONS had all been killed in battle
An invalid wife helped to sadden his ex-
ile-for this life of poverty over here in
the pocket was to Colonel Wilton
Chenier despite all its colors and per
fune its bird songs and its breezy fresh
ness. nothing less than exile. He did
not chafe. however. as the days and
months and years creeping by gave him
no promise of any better fortune. but
quietly and gloomily accepted his fate
To-day. "a he sat there smoking his brier
root pipe and reading novel, his face
was no more nor no less hopeful than II
was twelve years before, when he first
came to live Mt the mill. just as the war
clouds lifted and peace brought with il
utter penury to him and his loved ones.
1t is early May and early morning
The smoke from Colonel Wilton Che
nier's pipe goes swiftly away on fresh
stream Of mountain air that dips into
the valley as If blowing ont Of that won
derful blue sky which hangs overhead A
tall dark woman. still 1.-the and youth
full in appearance despite her thirty-tive
years and the look of settled sorrow in
her face. comes out of the mill with
some light work in her hand. and sits
down upon a weather beaten bench be
side her father You would at once
know that she il the daughter OF this
man. she il so like him As she bends !
Dver her sewing. her features fall into |
their habitual retrospective repose Her
hair and eyes are black. her nose small |
and straight her mouth and chin well |
formed. her forehead low and broad |
They make strange. dark picture
these two sorrowful looking forms. ont |
ined against the dull background Of the
Did mills messy wall They do not seem
20 note each Others presence The
yrowling Of the mill Is enlivened by the
nm" Of . mQcAng bird Up IN the null