Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1892-01-22
OLD STONER.

OLD . Wv Eh.
The evening train on the Hempfeld was
late. 1t was an accommodation train in
the true sense.
In the first place, Jim Green, the brake
man, had brought bunch of flowers from
wheeling to his sweetheart, who lived at
Claysville, and as she was not at the sta
tlon, as usual, Jim had to run up to her
house with them.
Then Mrs. Joe White the conductors
Wlie, was on the train with her baby, and
the first feat of that young man on board
ing the train was to break his bottle of
milk. Of course he could not ride thirty
two miles without milk, so they had TO
stop until Joe ran to farmhouse to bring
some.
Then Old Stoner was on the train also
lie had been down at a Masonic ceebra-
ton in Wheeling, and at West Alexander,
or Hardscrabble as it was often called, he
had wandered up to look at the town
where the train stopped, and being very
ured-tor it was hot day-had sat down
under tree to lest. They missed him
Just as the cars were starting, and of
course had to hunt him up, and so they
were late.
You see this was Old Stoner's first trip,
although he was eighty years of age. lie
mad lived very quiet life. Had always
been carter by calling.
Where his horses came from | do not
know, certainly not from Kentucky, but he
had never given more than five or ten dol
lars for one in his life.
Every one knew and liked him. He had
hosts of friends; indeed, there was not a
man, woman or child in the town who
would not have resented any injury done
him. He had no relatives, however. as
far as any one knew, and his home, an old
log cabin at the foot of the town. was
lonely place and bare one. Strangers
might have thought him a most forlorn
and miserable old man, but they would
have been mistaken He was a Freemason:
he had his lodge; that was the magic KEY
that opened to him both romance and reli-
gion. He was gate-keeper at the lodge,
and never was gate to SolOmon's temple
more carefully guarded.
lie was good Mason, and today had
been the GROWING day of his life. He
had been invited to spend it in Wheeling,
to take part in the general convention of
MasOns. He had put on his best suit; he
was very neat in his dress, but had taken
off his coat and carried it carefully all day.
city happy-had been made much of
first to last; had ridden in an open
Vie, very near brass band; had
dinner with the mayor. He had
= treated, as he said, like the son of
irish king" He had eaten with sill
Yer knife. The grand day was over and
now he was sitting sleeping in the car as
quietly as if he had been in his own bed
at home. He was very tired-so tired that
when a large man, drummer, sat down
in the seat beside him, with a growl at
finding the old mans coat in his way-he
had never wakened. The drummer had
been standing since the train left Wheel
ing, and was not in the best of humor, He
was bulging man; his neck overlapped
his collar, his eyes overlapped their lids.
There could not have been a greater con-
trast than between these two men. Per
haps some such thought passed through
his brain Il suppose he had brains-all an
imals have). He seemed to dislike poor
Old Stoner from the moment he sat down.
He bulged and scowled and fidgeted, and
finally worked pocket-book loose from
his pocket; it fell on the seat, and in an
other moment the station was called, and
the drummer-whO had business there
pushed roughly past Old Stoner and was
gone.
The sudden stOppage and the mans
roughness made the old man wake for
moment, and seeing the pocket-book, he
laid his hand over it, saying to himself as
he closed his eyes, 81 will give it to Joe
White when he comes past; he will know
what to do with it, and in moment was
asleep again.
In the mean time our drummer had gone
into a restaurant to refresh himself and
had very speedily discovered his loss. His
thought at once fastened on the old man
who sat beside him. "a villain I'll he
bound, for his white hair! I'll soon settle
him." So he stepped into the telegraph
office and sent off a message.
"Pocket-book stolen by some one in rear
car Have officer at depot search car, and
hold thief till next train. s@1
"MOsEs BAKER"
The message sped and the runner flew
Three polcemen-all the town could mus
ter-tifty loafers, and a hundred boys col
lected to assist in the search and the arrest
and to see the fun.
And yet Old Stoner slept on as peaceful
ly as though no wretched plot had gather
ed quickly but surely about him; plot
that could have but one ending for him
NAoS5iRS'' OOt w lllJt > DdDN WOKE anu
cried most vigorously; the boys within a
mile or two of town cried their cakes and
hot coffee through the cars; but still Old
Stoner slept. AT last the conductor, gath
ering up the tickets, touched the old man
lightly on the arm, and passed on to give
him time.
Mrs White, who sat just behind him,
said, as she leaned forward "Let me speak
to him; the poor old man is tired out. Mr..
Stoner, we are at hOme.' She laid her
motherly hand on his arm, and the baby, |
who was laughing now, put its little hand |
on his white hair.
Joe had all his tickets now, and came
back to his wife.
IL cannot waken him." she said.
Joe looked at him, and then said, "No, |
he is dead"
Then Mrs. White took off the babys |
soft cloak, and put it under his head, say
ing to herself, eff had only KNOWN
And the kindly angel who had been
sent to call him home had loosened the old |
mans hand, and the pOcket-bOok had fall
en- unnOticed to the floor.
What funeral that was! The largest |
ever known in the town. OF course he |
was buried with Masonic honors. His old |
cabin was draped in white until it was as