The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1891-05-01

nave OHt, hdNc
not seen much of it for some
years past. l am back again
~ now. In the language of the
duke who went around with motto
about him, ~ am here" and l fancy
am about as happy peasant of the vale
as ever garnished n melo-drama, al
though l have not as yet danced on
my village green, as the melo-dramatic
peasant usually does ON his. 1t was the
case when Rosina Meadows left home.
The time rolls by serenely now-so Sc
renely that don't care what time it is,
which is fortunate, because my watch is
at present in the hands of those ''men of
New York who are called riotors." We
met by chance, the usual way-certainly
not by appointment-andI brought the
interview to n close with all possible des-
patch. Assuring them that l wasn't
Mr.. Greeley, particularly, and that he
had never boarded in the private family
where enjoyed the comforts of home,
rendered them my watch, and begged
they would distribute it judiciously
among the laboring classes, as l had seen
the rioters styled in certain public prints.
Why should l loiter feverishly in
Broadway, stabbing the kissing hot air
with the splendid goldheaded cane that
was presented to me by the citizens of
Waukegan, Illinois, as slight testimo-
nial of their esteem? Why broil in my
rooms? You said to me, Mrs. Gloverson,
when / took possession Of those rooms,
that no matter how warm it might be, n
breeze had way of blowing into them,
and that they were, withal, quite coun-
tryfed; but l am bound to say, Mrs
Gloverson, that there was nothing about
hem that ever reminded me, in the re.
hottest degree, of daisies or new-mown
nay. Thus, with sarcasm, do I smash
the deceptive Gloverson.
Why stay in New York when I had a
village green? gave it up, the same as
would an intricate conundrum--and,
in short, am here.
Dol miss the glare and crash Of the
imperial thoroughfare? the milkman,
the fiery, untamed omnibus horses, the
soda fountains, Central Park, and those
things? Yes. do; and can go on miss
ing 'em for quite spell, and enjoy it.
The village from which l write to
you is small. 1t does not contain over
forty houses, all told; but they are milk
white, with the greenest of blinds, and
for the most part are shaded with beauti-
full elms and willows. To the right of
us is mOuntain-to the left q lake.
The village nestles between. OF course
it does. l never read novel in my life
IN which the village didn't nestle. Viii
lages invariably nestle. 1t is a kind of
way they have.
We are away from the cars. The iron
horse, as my little sister aptly remarks
in her composition On Nature, is never
heard to shrek in our midst; and on the
whole l am glad Of it.
The villagers are kindly people. They
are rather incoherent on the subject of
the war, but not more so. perhaps, than
are people elsewhere. One citizen, who
used to sustain good character, sub
scribed for The Weekly New York Her.
aid few months since, and went tc
studying the military map in that we'll
known journal for the fireside. l need
not inform you that his intellect now
totters, and he has mortgaged his farm.
In literary point of view we are blood
thirsty. A pamphlet edition of the life
of a cheerful being, who slaughtered his
wife and child, and then finished him
self, is having an extensive sale just
now.
The store-I must not forget the store
It is an object of great interest to me-
! usually encounter there ON sunny after.
moons, an old Revolutionary soldier Yor
may possibly have read about "Anothel
Revolutionary Soldier gone," but this il
one who hasn't gone, and, moreover, ont
who doesn't manifest the slightest inten
ton of going. He distinctly remembers
Washington, Of course; they all do; bu
what l wish to call special attention t,
is the fact that this Revolutionary sol
der is one hundred years old, that hi
eyes are SO good that he can read flint
print without spectacles-he never useG
them, by the way-and his mind Is per
fectly clear. He is little shaky in ON,
of his legs, but otherwise he is as active
as most men of forty-fve, and his gener
al health is excellent. He uses no to
bacco, but for the last twenty years HI
has drunk one glass of liquor every day
mo more, no less. He says he mus
have his tod. had begun to have lurk
ne suspicious about this Revolutionary
Older business, but here is an origina
Jacobs. But because man can drink
glass of liquor day and live to be
hundred years old, my young reader
must not infer that by drinking tw'
glasses of liquor day man can live t.