The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1896-04-01

tnnt ne nau come Wnen ue stoou tnerc,
knocking and humping with the
handle of his umbrella Mt the shrunken
panels of the front door.
Pretty soon q crooked old man, with
his garments fastened with tow-strings
instead of buttons, came shuflling TO
the door and peeped suspiciously
around it,
"Heh2" said he, with one hand
back of his poor old purple ear.
"Pears to me l heard somebody
knocking, didn't II"
"Yes, it's me-" came the reply
"John Mnrryatt, from Albany, don't
you know?"
"Married?" squeaked the old man.
"To who?"
"John-Mar-.ry-attr distinctly
repeated the visitor. Glow is my
Uncle OrigenP"
The crooked old man sheltered his
candle flame with one hand and stared
as il he we're gradually being trans
formed into one huge eye.
"Land sakes alivei" said he.
Didn't you know? He was buried
yesterdayl'
Here was cheerful welcome for
city visitor.
''But what can I doP" said Marry
att, with helpless gaze down the
darkening mountain-side. ~ came
to visit him. 1 had not heard"
"Walk in, walk in," said the old
man, holding the faring candle high
above his head and fattening himself
against the wall. "It's pretty lone
some here; but there's the deceased's
chamber You can sleep in, and / trapped
rabbit in the pine wood this
morning that Isabella's just stewing
up"
"Isabellal" repeated John Marry
nit.
"She's the old woman in charge
my sister," explained the ancient
warder of the castle. "Ain't much to
look at, but proper good cook"
"But" said Mr.. Marryatt, II don't
think I care about sleeping in the
room where-Uncle Origen died"
The old man stared at him with
dull, CLASSY eyes.
"Eh?' said he. "Wy not? You
don't believe in sperritooalism, do
youP"
"Nonsense |" cried Marryatt
"Then why amt one room as good
as another ?" asked the old man stol-
idly.
Nevertheless, would prefer to go
on to the nearest hotel" impatiently
uttered John.
"Ain't none short o. seven mile,
said the old man. "And that's only a
summer machine. They don't run it
arter the waterfalls friz up. But
there's freight train, with passenger
cab, o 80 hitched on, that stops at Cut
ting Corners at midnight
"Where is Cutting Corners ?"
Eight mile away"
"And how the dickens do you sup.
pose am to get eight miles from
here, when it is pitch dark already ?"
cried Marryatt, with not unnatural
irritation.
"There's Jenkins one-hoss wagon, "
mildly suggested the old man. "T'm
goin' to Jenkins Directly arter box
O. stove-blackin, paound O. taller
dips and quarter of paound o.
green tea for Isabella. I can tell
Jenkens to come round and cart ye to
the daypo, Of ye don't grudge a dol.
lar"
"By all MEANS" said Mr.. Marryatt
hurriedly. Sand while you are gone
Isabella, as you call her, can give me
some supper"
He sat down in the old, low-ceiled
room, where the rag carpet seemed
neither brighter nor DINNER than it
had twenty years ago. and General
Andrew Jackson still brandished his
sword in stained cherry frame on
the smoked wooden mantel, and
warmed his chilled feet before blaze
of swapping hickory logs; while old
Isabella who might have appeared
creditably at any tableau as the
"Witch of Endor" crept around an
iron pot which swung from. prodi-
pious crane. and got supper after a