The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1896-06-11

'li NlANlltilllVl' to me. Although
I did not ask permission, yet do not
feel that 1 violate his confidence by
giving, as nearly as I can remember,
the contents OF the paper which he
treasures with such affections:
The prospect was not cheerful, was
riding horse across country whose
loneliness was as deep as a sigh which
bespeaks the long absence of some
one. Night was coming on and storm
was gathering its forces, A frightened
owl fitted past me, screaming in my
face. The time of year was when ma
ture hesitates whether to continue
winter or begin spring. My horse al
most shook me off when lie stopped
and shivered. The owl screamed in
my face again. Dead leaves, for q mo-
ment would whirled before me, and
then fall, scattered and torn as
though they had, by an angry hand,
been swept from their long, damp
rest, only to be Knocked. "What a
dreary, dreary place it isl" 1 mused.
81 feel as though something terrible
is going to happen. The air, just be-
fore the great agitation which must
come, seems quivering IN its desire to
bear the sound of murder, murder As
l live yondor is light. Is it possible
that | shall receive shelter?"
Urging my horse forward, I soon
reached a small house, near thesummit
of a desolate peak, overlooking the
Arkansaw River. IEdismounted near
the door-there was no fence around
the house. My horse looked appeal
ingly at me and without asking per-
mission from any one within, led the
animal to stable close at hand, took
off SADDLE and bride. As 1 was
returning, the storm burst upon the
river. Whom l approached tho door,
l heard wall. knocked and heard
the wall coming slowly toward me.
The door was opened by a girl scarce
ly more than twelve years old. Her
face was the picture of despair. She
said nothing, but pointed to a bed,
upon which laid an old man, gasping
for breath. Approaching him, l saw
that he had but a few moments to live.
The girl knelt beside the old man. He
tried to put his hand upon her head.
Failing, he lookeda me and / assisted
him. He tried to speak, but could
not. Tho girl sobbed frantically. The
rain poured down and the storm shook
the house.
"He will never getwelll" she cried.
"My grandpa will die"
Yes, her grandpa would die. His
life had already passed away. The
hand lying on her head was growing
cold. She looked at him and shrieked.
What a night We spent in that
house. The storm howled and the rain
fell until nearly daylight. The girl,
who l say was Intelligent, with an i'm
pressiye face. said that her name was
Munette Loggemon, and that since
her earliest recollection she had lived
with the old man, who had spent most
OF his time, since she had begun to
talk, in teaching her.
al have no relatives" she said, in
answer to question.
"Any friends?"
"No friends"
"You have neighbors?"
"None. The nearest house is nearly
eight miles away"
knew not what to do. Surely the
situation was serious. Early at morn
ing we buried the old man in the yard.
As best / could, ] made "a coffin of a
trough which found in the stable.
After the burial went on and found
enough corn for my horse. 1 left
Munette at the grave, on which she
mad. sobbing bitterly, thrown herself.
"Where are you going, little girl2"
asked when l returned, still finding
her on the grave.
"How can 1 go anywhere?" she
asked. 81 have no friends, told
you"
"You cannot remain here"
81 cannot go away"
81 will not leave you here. You
must go with me. Ny mother has no
little girl. She will receive you. q"
Still lying on the grave, and with
out looking up, she replied:
81 will go and work for my board. Z"
"You will not have to work. When
| tell my mother of the circumstances
under which / found you, she will
faEa uar, in hon ammo f,,.., .1t 3