Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1894-03-26


island is still covered with water and
they are washed out. The waves that
bro't the reptiles broke on your island.
You must anger them and drive them
away; but look out for the and wait
a little until they kill the rats.n
Kill the rats they did, and the cats
also. Even poor Dine became vic
tim.
1sNow we will madden the snakes"
said the neighbors. "Let us provide
ourselves with long, slim palmetto
pole, and when we go for one OF the
rattlers we must not kill but keep
poking it about, taking care always
that it does not coil itself SO as to
spring, as is it's instinct, and tease 1t
in this way until i5 is angry enough to
turn tail and crawl hastily away. You
need not be afraid of them for they
can spring only when coiled, and then
not more than twice the length Of
their own short, clumsy bodies" The
plan was tried, and it succeeded. The
'srattlers'' took themselves off, every
one, and were seen no more.
The Hunts were no nearer the at
tainment Of wealth and happiness"
than they were when they lived in
Connecticut. They went back to their
cabin, planted the few sweet potatoes
that had, by constant vigilance, been
saved from the depredations Of the
rats, and sat down on the shore to fish
while they waited for the precious
esculent to grow.
One day from the signal station,
near the great revolving light, came
yacht. The young men on board
landed on the island. They were
seeking information in regard to the
force and effect of the great storm in
different places along the shore; and
they had been told by fisherman
that they could procure a cat on that
dune for the children in the light
house. They told the Hunts they had
come to make friendly call to see if
this we're so.
Mother Hunt straightway proceed
ed to give the history of all the cats
in detail, even to bring forth the bag,
now perforated with ratholes, and
displaying the stones that had come
from all parts Of the world. 81 can't
bear to look at them, ''said she; "they
make me homesick for the stony hills
Of old Connecticut"
s'And would you like to go back?"
asked one af the young men.
s1That has been the dearest wish of
my heart since I started out for there
years ago." said Mother Hunt, with
deep sigh.
"Well, my good women, these
stones are of considerable value.
will pay you enough for them to carry
you all back to Connecticut, thy steam
er from Galveston, in good shape, and
to buy you a little home when you get
there'' 4ea
ssNot for rubbish that came SO near
being at the bottom Of the sea in a
bag along with a mess Of kittens? We
would have given them to you for the
asking. They are of no use to me-"
SaIO MT. HuUU.
s'They are fine meteorological speci-
MEMS" replied the young man. 1t is
a valuable collection. Here are gold
and silver, malachite, crystal, and va
rious precious stones embedded in
their native rock"
"Well, I thought they might be of
some use some time" said Mother
Hunt: s'but I didn't think it would
come to this. What pity the poor,
lone old woman who gave them to
William, is dead now, after keeping
the stones all those years and having
no benefit from them. Ought we to
take the money!"
"You can have no compunction on
that score," said the young ieuten-
ant. "The poor women left no rela-
tives; besides the stones passed into
your sons hand as gift from her.
Doubtless good Providence ordered
that this way should be provided for
your return to your old home''
So it was not long before the Hunt
family, with their scant belongings,
were safely on board a staunch vessel,
homeward bound, to find "health,
wealth and happiness" in the old ma
tive town in Eastern Connecticut.
You have heard of old people who
are full of stories. Ifyou think Mother
Hunt is not, stroll into her kitchen,
which is like picture of neatness,
despite her eighty years, and listen to
her adventures, as I have.
A quiet, pale looking man walked
Il