Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1891-05-06
DGIGn IlistOn.


Helen ListOn was curious child,
and her life from the cradle to ripe
girlhood was full of poverty and adj
venture. Then il changed and she was
taken away to affluence and education.
Her first home, as | saw it, was among
the crags and peaks of the mighty
mountains which rise to giddy height
around the ruins of the historical town
of Harper's Ferry. The people whom
she called and then knew as her parents,
lived slmOst along the face of Mary
land Heights, that rugged mass of
rocks which reach from the banks of
the Potomac to an altitude of POO
feet or more. The hovel in which she
dwelt and grew up is only type of
the MANY which nestle along and
among these high mountains which
bluff and break the Shenandoah and
Potomac rivers at this point.
A rough, One-story log cabin, with
single room, to answer all the necess-
tiles of the household is all there is Of
it. Around it was a little patch of
ground, upon which were few stalks
of corn Now and then there wero
remnants of tomato vines, and the up
turned earth was proof that few hill.
of potatoes had been raised. There
was one poor pig IN the sty, few
hungry chickens picking about the door,
snd three half-starved hunting dogs
were in sight. This wretched habita-
ton IS "a typical mountain house for
this section. The men who dwell in
them are shiftless creatures, who live
mostly by hunting and fishing. When
pushed to it they will do an occasional
days work for some farmer in the val
ley. They are rough as rule, but not
dangerous. Few of them will commit
greater crimes than petty thieving.
The women are as indolent, coarse,
ugly and low in their habits as the men.
Both use whiskey and tobacco to excess
whenever they can get them.
Once, when climbing to the summit
of Maryland Heights to revisit the old
stone fort and look afar off upon the
now smiling valley once laid waste by
the rayages of war, | came upon the
house of the Listons and the lass whose
history is a romance of the wartime
and terrible reality in the years that
followed the return of peace.
The vagabOnds who were called her
parents were no relation to her. Every
one On the mountain and in the valley
felt that she was not in her proper
place. Yet no one could solve the
mystery which hung over her life.
The coarse, untidy woman whom she
called mother, and the shiftle5s, worth
less man she addressed in shy, hesitat-
ing tones as father, were strange beings
among whom to find such a flower.
She was beautiful. Her features were
soft and regular. A 1.-THE, willowy
form moved with grace amid shabby
surroundings. Dark, flashing eyes,
and a wealth of glossy black hair set
off her delicate olive complexion to
perfection. Ii was evident that she
was above every one and every thing
Oh the mountain, or even in the valley.
Mrs. Liston was tall, lank creature
with sharp, irregular features, of
the color of old parchment. Her fore
head was low; gray her eyes and cold,
and her voice like the screech of a
night owl. She was barefooted as L
saw her, aud comb seemed stranger
10 her head. Her old dress was frayed
and torn half up TO the knees and be-
grimed with dirt. | did not marvel
that the girl shrank around the corner
Of the hut as the vixen, in a shrill
voice, called TO her. A half-starved
hunting dog, with four little ones, fol-
lowed the only and lonely being from
whom they ever received a caress or
kind word.
A strange face at the door of the
isolated home is rarely seen, for it is
high up on the mountain and only
pathway leads by it. l was following
this trail toward the summit of the
range. There are few old soldiers
who served in the Shenandoah Valley,
who do not remember the great stone
fort on the top of MARYLAND Heights,
from which often belched the thunder
Of guns that commanded the valley for
miles away.
As | came upon the wretciled hovel
the woman called harshly to the child.
Neither of them saw me, but the dog
scented my approach as she started to
follow the young mistress, and gave a
low growl at the moment the woman
became aware of my presence, and
said:
oval, stranger, Ireckon yous gwine
to de fot beyant thar. Mighty hard
rudge, and yous onl little MORN half
way up vet. Set down an rest"
She offered me an old splint- bottom
chair | dropped into it and then saw
that hundreds of feet vet stretched
away between this place and the fort.
The-iittle girl peeped around the cor.
ner OF the cabin as the old woman
begged for some tobacco. Having
none, half-dollar was very accept
able substitute, and it took the old
witch into the house. 1 then called
the tlmid girl, who, after much per-
suaSion, cautiously approached.
"What is your name?" said L.
"Helen Liston," she replied, half
under her breath, as if scared out of
her life.
where is your father?"
'Down at the river, fishing. He
goes there nearly every day to catch
black bass and sell them TO passengers
when the trains come along"
"Are these people really your par
Snts?"
.'They say So" and in a whisper she
added, "but none of them like me !;
they say Pm stuck up above IN. Old
Lucy aud her puppies are all the friends
L have on the mountain"
What do you do all day2"
81 pick berries some days and then
act as guide to show people up the
heights to the fort above there, or to
see the valley from the rock above the
mans face. There are men who used