The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1895-05-01
In an Old Attic.

yesterday L IOunu ucllSnulul
book, and of course it was in an at
tic. Our ancestors may not have
stored things in attics expressly to
have us discover them, but we con-
tinue to do so from time to time, and
they are undoubtedly more interest
ing from being bit cobwebby and
mysterious. The attic in 9yhich l
found the delicious book had in it
hidden things which looked as if
they might be the first patterns of
everything we use now. Probably
the most desirable trait about this
attic was that it did not possess a
place for anything or anything in
its place
For instance, / found a bonnet
hanging on pair of andirons.
But for the green silk strings no
one would ever dream it was a bon
net. 1t looked much more like a coal
scuttle and had as many enormous
bones as a prehistoric skeleton. 1t
must have belonged to a very great
grandmother. No one without sew
eral greats before her name could
have worn that bonnet! Behind the
andirons was a cradle, and in the
cradle was a long pole with red
six arrangement which once meant
It fire screen. Beside it stood clock,
"i,h moon face and long chains
and weights 1t looked so much like
q Dutch doll, with just head and
legs, that l laughed aloud. But an
attic is not place i'll which to laugh
unless one has company. Everything
was rebukingly still, and so was l
Immediately.
Near the clock was table shaped
like long legged spider. 1t looked
as if Just ready to walk off alone. l
was quite sure it belonged to the
| bonnet and the fire screen, and that
somewhere there were blue cups and
saucers, which one might break by
talking too loud, and that they be-
longed to the table.
In a far corner stood picture
with its face to the wall.
/ drew it out and rested it against
the table. OF course it was dusty |
never heard of the right sort of an
attic which was kept busted. 1t was
the picture of lady knew that at
once, Just as we always know a lady
when we see one. The picture was
rather dim, but l could easily dis
Germ that she was young and slim,
with white throat and bright, dark
eyes. Her hair, done very high, was
of a ruddy brown, and she had on a
short wasted white satin frock, and
held half open fan primly in her
hands.
1t was easy to see that she was
Just where she belonged-beside the
spider legged table. l had no doubt
that she could have told the where
abouts of the blue cups and saucers.
Thinking about this lady, my eyes
encountered another pair of eyes
staring straight at mine. My heart
Jumped once and stood still until
recognized the eyes as my own.
Twas gazing into mirror. 1t was
q dim, queer mirror, with a crack
like an enormous smile across it:
face and pale enough to hold only
the ghost of light which once shonC
in it. Two rods supported it. They
held a brass candlestick apiece and
rested on little stand which had
drawer. l sat down on hair trunk
before this letter stand. The drawer
had brass knobs and might have beer
locked once, but time or rust made
it open easily, and then-such an as
sortment of odds and ends. FADED
ribbons and flowers and beads and
feather fan, which, when l opened
it, filed the air with lnusty dus
that made me sneeze! Under thes'
scraps was box, and under the boz
was a book-the book. THE Blacl
Duck, q" by virginia w. Cloud, in st
Nicholas.