The morning call., 1892-12-04


level meadow at the foot, and over tho rail-
road track beyond. That railroad track
was the one element Of danger. 1t was you
and Fred, you remember, who were coming
pellmell down one afternoon, when YOU
heard sudden, sharp. bloodcurdling
whistle, and realized that the train was
passing. and you were rushing too fast 10
stop toward certain death. You were too
young TO be scared, and only wondered
what was to be done, but Fred had the
making in him, even then, of the leader he
has since become, and with more strength
than you could have imagined such little
chap TO possess dug one heel into the snow
and steered the fTail sled toward monster
snowbank, into which you were shot as
from catapult. headioremOst and stuck
dismally for some little time, your short,
red-leggnged extremites waving in the
air like two demented danger signals. until
Fred pulled you out After that you
adopted what Fred described to the horror
stricken head OF the house as "extreme
percussions," said precautions" consisting
OF one or the other of you always standing
by the railroad track with long-handled
broom, on the bushy end OF which was
draped an old red flannel shirt. This signal
was TO be waved il the train was in sight.
and the coaster at the top of the hill would
then wait until the great screaming splitting
iron horse Lad passed, before making the
descent.
Don't you remember 'Sabin's Flats" the
broad, l0w-lyiDg meadows, twenty acres or
more, that the fail rains used TO cover with
sheet Of water that by Thanksgiving was
frozen smooth and level and where you all
used TO go and skate Wednesday and Satur-
day afternoons, the two blessed nalf-holi-
DAYS OF the school week? And how much
more convenient II used TO be to come home
from school across these meadows, instead
OF by way OF the road. The meadows way
was nearly mile further, but think of The
time TO be gained by sliding home. instead
OF tameiy walking! And slide you did,
across the meadows and back before ever
you could tear yourself away from the
Ease mating place. What fun IL used to be |!
Eight or ten Of you In n row, holding 10 each
others hands, skirts and jackets, taking
long run until the Slide" was reached,
and then with feet well braced, heads aud
shoulders back, 10 feel yourselves gliding
along over the ice with no effort on YOUR
own part. With what awe and admiration
did you use tn regard the girl who could
slide Backward How eagerly you used to
plan TO walk beside her on the homeward
way, and how hOnored you used to feel
when she condeseended TO accept the
larger share of your piece of luncheon pie,
or the red-cheeked half OF the big Baldwin
apple your mother had slipped into your
basket How you once asked her in
moment OF presumption, knowing yourself
10 be fay0rite, how one learned TO slide
backward. ''Oh. it's easy enough" had
been her careless reply; lust whirl round
ana let yourself 60" You priyily essayed
10 act upon these instructions a few DAYS
later, but got your feet twisted. lost your
balance and fell down, skinDiDg your nose.
What wonderful forts yeu used 20 build,
manned by all the boys and girls, at recess,
and stormed daily with shot and shell from
the SNOWFALL magazine Do you remem-
Der the palace you and Fred and Dick and
Dollie Lansing built one winter? There
were five rooms in il, aud so substantially
was IL constructed that IL lasted from the
Christmas holidays until away in March
with no repairing save occasional renewing
OF the glazier work, which was done with
thin sheets of Ice, though you aid have one
truly glass window in the ''besi ROOM"
where the king and queen had their throne,
and where the queen on Saturday after
moons Used to invite the courtiers and court
ladies to tea, at which the menu consisted
OF ice water and snow cakes.
Did you ever go into the woods In winter?
Do you remember how stiffly white the trees
used 10 look, with their ghostly arms oct
stretched and their black trunks gIittering
with leep How pretty the hazel copses al.
ways were. low dropping and making quaint
little snowy bowers beneath their delicate
branches that used to look like beautiful
white Plumes as the c0ldly brilliant sun
shone down upon them. The hickories
used TO stand up straight nd rugged like
blunt Puritan sentinels; they were tough.
and they looked ii. Don't you recall how
the tall pines used 10 sway and glide and
retreat and advance. with their evergreen
spines cleaning darkly through their white
robes? And how that graceful fairy
tree-the mountsin ash-used co stand
up tall and straight. like a noble
gentleman bearing tribute of beautiful
red berries to Queen Winter. You used 70
gather those came red berries 10 make neck
laces OF and deck yourself in bnrbaric
spleDdur. Then there was the sumach.
with its red clusters hanging on the bare.
gray stalks-yOu can taste their punrent
sourness yet-and tbs killikinnik berries in
their queer pods. There were the thorn
apples, too. and the wintergreen berries,
down around The roots Of the trees and on.
when you ate cranberry sauce with your
Thanksgiving turkey did you remem Der
how, years ago, crossing some low meadow.
you suddenly remembered that Gran berries
grew there in summer, and eagerly scrap-
Ing aside the snow with your mittened fin
gers you came upon the dear round red
things, growing close to the ground. and
sat there and chewed away upon them and
thought them the most delicious fruit that
grew?
Do you remember the big barrels of sweet
cider that used to come home from the
mill? Did you ever climb up and sit as;rjde
OF one, or as nearly asiride as your short
legs could accomplish, and working ont
the stopper from the bunghole Insert
a long straw and proceed to test the
contents with the unerripg connoiseur-
ship of childhood? A long, long uII-ah-
the apple those drops came from was
SpiiZeDberg, from the tree In the SUNNY
corner of the orchard. There were a few
drops from that tree OF water-cores father
planted when Fred was born, and only
piDpin furnished that draught Talk sbont
blends. Have any of our California vim
fagefs The skill OF old Sam Barton, who
owned the cider-mili? You can see him ow
sorting over the fragrant bins and max
ing his selections from the winters store
for the cider that should I'll 'the sonire's"
barrels that year. Tall. slab-sided. lantern.
Jawed, with kindly gray eyes and face
smooth shaver. save for q tuft OF Struggling
beard on his chin. he used to bring hone
the barrels every fall with one perennial
joke. l used TO think IL was an essential
part OF the business of getting the barrels
into the cellar. There, squire. that there
stuff's complete, an IL the missis' dyspepsv
gets bad she'll find her remedy like her dis
ease-ip cideI." i never saw the roipt of
that joke until years after.
low cold II used to get after CbristmasI
DO you recall how the snow used 10 ereak
beneath your tread as you walked and how
frozen Inc stars looked at night when you
parted the curtains of the window at the
head OF your bed and looked up at tham
Lave you ever seen any grander sight than
winter starlight sky?
Then there were the sleigh-rides. the
swiftly gliding cutters, with their ACCOM-
paniment OF musical bells. There Ia NO one
thing that takes me back into the past 20
completely and Instantly as the inelinc Of
string OF these sleighbeils, as we OCCASION
ally hear them on the horse OF some vendor.
can shut my eyes and fancy can again
see the long stretch of snowy road. with tie
black zlgzag OF post.and-rail fence on either