St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1897-04-02
But his name ?"

Druv me out Yesterday, threatenin
me of the law
And the young lady ?"
"She's named Agnes. Poorly littl,
gal, but kinder high.nosed, an toe
good ter step on a plank floor"
"Humphl -
Fer wooden-legged man, Kyrne
Bob air game ter the bone; but I'c
er whaled him long ago ef 'twasn't
fer hghtin' er cripple. The claw won't
stan tibet, We know"
"Miss Agnes is Colonel Chastain's
daughter, | presume"
Eyer a.presumin' correct"
Melville was silent for a moment
then with smile he inquired.
Amy biting dogs about that house
Mr. Peevy."
None, exceptin' Kyrnel Bob. E
he amt er dog, an er bitin' dog at
that, I'll eat yer hat. Won't kill the
squirIs his own self an won't let
me-"
RYAN Melville cbuckled appre-
ciatively, filling his pipe the while.
After some meditative whffs he re-
marked that it was a wonder the
Federal army did not burn the Chas-
tain house, which was so near the
battlefield
Had yaller flag. 'Twer' a hos
pital," said Peevy.
That night Ryan Melville dreamed
a hundred dreams, each one OF them
as grotesque as the most atrocious
and as airy, dainty and
sweet as a hyacinth flower. The
and smashing OF the brook
was in his ears. the cool water sent
its thrill through his wadlng boots,
and Agnes Chastain shinmered
before him, a vision of ewlching
ovelness; not as young woman,
but as a mere child, with corn silk
hair and large, sympathetic, blue
yes, lowering near his bed, where he
ay stupid, voiceless and spent. Mr..
Chastain, Colonel Bob, hobbled back
and forth. There were groanngs
-ound about, and punRents and an
-iseptIcs filed the air with a disa-
greeable, oppressive suggestion.
Now, why should a lusty red
'ooster strut through this tumble OF
nconeruous dreaming? What had
his cock, with the carmine comb
and fountain-like gush of red tail
lea theirs. to do with bass fishing and
that thigh wound which the surgeons
we're probing? There is no set pat
-ern for dream, nor for a reality.
DC it remembered, Ryan MeIvile's
iream was reminiscent, contcmpo-
AIRY and anticipative. At the same
line it was absurdly ludicrous; for
here was Bud Pecvy dancing a liz
while he played with two thirty
pound bombs, the fuses of which
we're hzzlng at the very point of ex-
,losion.
"Wake crp, mani Coin ter sleep
Ill day? Yer aigs II spill a.gittin
ole Peevy clustered.
Ryan Melville rubbed his eyes, and
'Iinked at the sunlight pouring in
through the open door. At first he
bought that one of the bombs had
'urst with fare like that. A wood
ecker raped long, rolling tattoo
IN the comb OF the cabin. The SAVIOR
# fried ham came into the room
ogether witha strenuous song flung
" mocking bird out of the haw
hickcts close by.
That was tedious forenoon for
ur friend Of the angle. He cast his
way up the doubling and dallvinq
between fresh-blown wild
lowers, under greening boughs,
trough fanged rock crevices, slowly.
N toward the spring house and the
mansion on the hill, with an eve on
rs watch, so as to arrive precisely
IN time, which he did.
The place strangely lacked some
hing, in its air, its picturesque ap-
zeal, ITS suggestion of romance. Mel.
lille stood on the bank beside the
reat stone, and chill of vague dis
ppointment crept over him. Upon
lie stone just where Miss Chastain
at yesterday, there stood the goblet
nd beside it lay the bunch of KEYS.
Where was the maiden2 A stupid in.
ltierence POSSESSED him for the mo-
tent to such effect that he gazed
'ith but halfsceing eyes. His ears
'ere numb wi'hinand gave him only
mote impressions OF the sounds of
ind, leaf bird and water Ger
linlv the sno, u,,s.,,,, .