Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1897-11-04

WssalLl! ES.. blue mountains,
g ezzzEvzSs{Nss aud breathing the
rose-perfumed air,
and saying over and over to my happy
self; I'm SO glad to be in dear old
Virginia once more!"
81 have noticed but one change"
answered Uncle Allen, "and that is in
the occupants of the cottage by the
spring. The Trents were there when
I was here before. Baby May was a
gleat pet of mine"
''May's father prospered while here,
and has bought little place of his
own down by the river"
"And who lives in the cottage now?
1 saw two young men come out of
there before breakfast.
Eyes; they're my farmers this year.
They live down there with their
widowed mother-a weaver of great
renown-"
"And big talker" said Aunt Myra,
from the doorway. you're such
girl for stories, Nelly, you must get
Mrs. Erie to tell you some. She can
serve you with any kind, from ghost
story to panther yarn, having met
both phantom and painter face to
facet
''That woman has seen hard times;
stirring times; exciting times" said
Uncle Allen. ''She is said to have
been very beautiful girl, with scores
of lovers; but she went through the
woods and chose the crooked stick"
"And got many beating from her
crooked stick, " interposed Aunt Myra
again.
eyes; beatings and abuses of all
kinds. Finally the stick ran away,
throwing the support of three little
children upon her. But she was noun
tain-born and bred, and had the rugged
strength and steadfastness of her sur
roundings. She has been the heroine
of many an adventure. You will en-
Joy her yarns, Nelly"
Impetuosity has ever been one of
my characteristics.
81 should like to go down right
away and see her weave and hear her
talk" cried. "But how can I get
her into reminiscent train of thought?"
Aunt Myra laughed.
No matter what you say, child,
you will remind her of some interest
ing bit of personal history"
So L donned my hat and ran down
the hill to call upon this woman of
such varied life memories.
/ heard the tramp of the treadles
long before / reached the open door.
SO busy was the weaver that I had to
knock before she saw me. At the
sound she started and gave such i'm
petus to the fling of her shuttle, that
it fell at my feet.
/ hastened to restore it, at the same
time begging her not to rise.
''You are Mrs. Erle?" I asked,
doubtfully, for L had pictured u bent
and care-worn woman, bearing the
marks of her struggle with the wolf.
I saw instead, a figure rs straight as a
plumb-line; face that suggested
trailing arbutus to my ever fanciful
mind; pair of dark eyes as bright as
a baby's, and heavy black hair twisted
high on a well-shaped head.
Beautiful as a girl? Who could
doubt it, or that she had quaffed of
Ponce de Icons fountain?
''That's who / am," she answered,
cordially; land 1 know who you are
without asking Your unclos been
expectin' you for more'n a week. You
look enough like him to be his daugh-
ter. Take that rockin' chair and lay
off your hat. "
''Don't let me interrupt you" I said
81 never saw anybody weave. and
came down to watch you"
Having thus stated half the truth, !
drew my chair beside the loom.
The weaver smiled like one humor-
ing child, and bent to her task with
the brief information:
'Pm weavin' jeans"
When the jeans had increased about
two inches in length Mrs. Erie gave q
sudden short laugh.
SIT didn't look very friendly for me
to fling the shuttle at you," said she.
"That was my fault. L knocked SO
abruptly it startled you"
'Ive been a weaver, off an on, evel
since I was girl of eighteen. This
is the second time in all those years
that l tossed my shuttle 50 hard il
went out the door. thought of thai
other time the minute it flew out to
day"
She stopped weaving and looked
past me through the open window
with so thoughtful an air that l scent
ed my story.
"Tell me about it, please" said
inwsrdly smiling at the remembrance,
of Aunt Myra's parting assurance.