Passaic City record., 1892-05-21

49, M Caiuphoi- Z IL Z u
~ Is ss'sse'' ssssst ~asns as 'ss 1es
the Abbey Arms-little boy to be left at
Doctor Stokum's school-and you, miss
with nod at me), s'for Skeleton
Grangea"
''Skeleton Grangel" I cried, with a
start that knocked the camphor bottle
from the hand of my neighbor aud seri.
ously inconlmoded the fat gentleman in
the opposite corner.
"Lor', MISS" said the man, a slow
mile overspreading his countenance,
sit amt the real name of the place. It's
what the folks hereabouts calls it. Short,
miss, for Skellington. 1t was built by
old Squire Skellington, in the year
1907
sOh" said I, sinking back into my
scat with a little nervous laugh, while
every one else regarded me with frozen
stares of disapproval, including the lady
who was sopping the split camphor
from her lap with pocket handkerchief,
and the old gentleman whose wig had
been knocked on one side by my sudden
movement.
For, you see, was only eighteen, and
was going to my first situation, as
reader and companion to Mrs. Pinkney,
of The Grange, near Port Kent, on Lake
Champlain.
1t was necessary for some of us to earn
Our own bread, as my mothers little
school had not proved a success, and
both Elaine and Emily were younger
and more timid than was.
The preliminary arrangements had all
been transacted through a mutual ac-
commodation bureau in New York.
had been given to understand by the lady
in charge that my position would be
very desirable, if could be sufficiently
fortunate to suit the fancy of Mrs. Pink
ney, who was an elderly lady of excel
lent means and some eccentricity.
Well, here I was at last, en- route for
The Grange, my railway novel read to
the last page, the contents of my lunch
basket all eaten, and a crimson sunset
flooding the beautiful surface of Lake
Champlain with the loveliest of glows,
and just as was admiring the red-tiled
roots of long, low house, embowered
in elms and beeches, the stage came to a
stop, and the driver bawled out:
Passengers for Skeleton Gra-a-ange !"
My insignificant little trunk was lifted
down, bell in the stone gate-post was
violently rung, and stood knee-deep in
tall, Towering grasses, looking forlorniy
after the disappearing coach, as the eyes
of a shipwrecked mariner might follow
the vanishing masts of some retreating
vessel which bears heart and hope away
with it.
SIS this The Grange? Is Mrs. Pink
ney at homea I am Miss Carrick, the
companion, from New York, pleased"
| faltered out the words in sort of
terror, induced by the sudden and start
ling appearance of little old woman, in
a black silk quilted hood and cloak, who
had hobbled out of the house by the aid
of a knotted stick and unlocked the
gate with shining brass key.
She nodded her head to my interroga-
tories and favored me with long stare
IN answer to my last statement.
Then, STOPPING to lift one end of my
trunk, she said, briskly
"Can ee lift t'other end eeself2 Ee
amt no menfolk about place an amt
overly strong meself."
obeyed with alacrity. being young
and vigorous, and the trunk not especi-
ally heavy, and thus / made my appear
ance before tall, spare woman of sixty,
with dress of lustreless black silk, gilt
tering gold eyeglasses, and fine Roman
profile. who stood on an Eastern rug
before blazing wood fire.
The walls were covered with old an
cestral portraits, whose steady stare
added to my confusion; every nook and
corner was crowded full of Chinese dra-
gons, Chippendale cabinets, old china on
brackets, and grotesquely- embroidered
screens.
+ sAh, {" said the tall lady, "you are the
xcader and col2anions"