St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1899-04-19
FACT OR FICTION, WHICH?
BY MRS. MARY r. p. HATCH
OF ST. JoHNsBURY.

Mass, until two years ago, when NOV
ed here to X. was an only child, a:
was my father and grandfather before
me, and we were all three named Peter
But while my father was only tolerably
well-educated, and not as well as he
his father was an Episcopal minister o
great learning, who came to this coun
try in 1909 and settled as pastor in 6
town which adjoins Maiden. After
wards, some ten years, think, he moved
to the latter place and there all the
Eatons OF our family resided until, as
have said, two years ago, when / moved
my family here.
Now as this is not my story, nor even
my fathers but my grandfather's, the
frst-for aught | know-Peter Eaton
that ever was, will proceed as fast as
my unaccustomed, halting pen will let
me to the incidents which help to form
this narrative.
When grandfather died, full OF years
and good works, thirty years ago, his
property fell to his son who, at that time,
lived with me, mother having died few
years before; but grandmother lived un-
til upwards of eighty.
recoect we'll when his books, furni-
ture and clothes were brought to our
house, The left but little money! that a
curious, ancient chest or desk (you might
call it one or you might call it the other.
1t would have been chest but for sort
of shelf which could be drawn out to
write on, and it would have been desk
but for deep receptacle at the bottom
where grandmother stored her linen) was
with the collection. Father soon had
everything put to rights, and know he
spent several evenings reading, sorting,
and burning old letters and other docu-
ments which, no doubt he considered
useless.
don't recollect ever opening the desk
or chest or reading line OF its contents
until after my father died, which was
Just before we left Maiden. But after
we moved here, work was scarce, and
being strangers in the place, we had little
to interest or amuse; so last winter dur
ing storm of several days duration,
overhauled the desk, (I will call it desk
hereafter) and following my fathers
fashion, read, sorted and burned until
had everything in good array again.
But one bundle of letter-sheet writing
puzzled me- Whether it did father, |
don't know, or whether he ever read it
at all. But think he must have read it,
and not knowing what to make OF it any
more than did, hesitated to destroy it,
or speak OF it to any one. 1t reads to
me like romance, only / am sure that
grandfather never read romances, and
would have scorned to write one. II it
is fact, then he was greatly deceived, or
a famous crime was never rightly under
stood and an innocent man was doomed
to death by the evidence of circumstances.
What the crime was, that is, who were
the chief actors in it can only be surmis-
ed, for in the narrative no names are
given, blanks being used in nearly every
case, which makes the manuscript con-
fusing at first.
Now, as | have said, and as you will
have perceived, am plain, uneducated
man, while my grandfather was gentle
man. To override his example OF secrecy
as regards the manuscript, by having it
published. has, in the decision, given me
many sleepless night. On the other
hand, the secrecy imposed on him can
not include the third Peter Eaton, and
besides, why did he put the story on
paper unless he felt that he had no right
to die with the secret locked in his own
breast? For this reason, then, and be-
cause there is a chance that my grand.
father may not have been deceived, will
transcribe the narrative just as it was
written, word for word.
MAIDEN, MASS, Jan. 13, 1858,
have often thought that | would re.
cord the doings OF my simple and I'M
worthy life in this parish for my own
reading, and as warnings not to make
the same mistake twice. But daylight
and nightfall, summer and winter have
been so much alike in their prosaicnvss
that have hestated to begin, and when
one hesitates, day after day, hesitation
becomes habitual, and nothing is done.
Now all is changed. Something has
transpired so strange, so dreadful, so
utterly out Of the realms OF reasonable
belief that | hardly know how to an.
proach it, or whether to approach it at
ALL But il it should be true! And il
seems true. Looking on the dying mans
face and watching the fearful play OF his
agonized features did not doubt it then.
All OF the doubts have come to me since.
sitting here in my study chair; and yet,
looking at it from all points of view, it
seems truer than that other tale.
-Four hours ago. 1t was seven, and
the eight day clock is now just striking
eleven. Priscilla brought in my candles,
threw some short sticks Of wood on the
fire which started the backlog to blazing,
and then said to me:
There is boy in the kitchen, sir, who
says man is diving and must see you"
Must did he say must"
Eyes, sir, he said so, but I'd never 90
out night like this for no man, diving
nor well, must nor no must" said Pris.
ella.
But did not heed Priscilla, whose
words often belied her kind heart. put
on my old surtout. and calling the boy,
followed him out into the storm without
even stopping to chide Priscilla.
'1s it far ?" asked.
IA mile" he answered surlily.
Your father, is it, my lad :" l said
again.
mo, it's Jim Colen- lives down our
allev, and mother made me fetch YOU.
Wish she'd had to come out in this ere
storm instid OF me and you. SIR"
'Oh, no, we are better able to bear the
cold than your mother, doubtless, my
lad" answered, and then we spoke no
more, but ploughed our way through the
fast'talling snow until we reached the
last house-a dark alley where the bov
left me, after pointing to the door was
to enter.
ranned hut no o,,e no.,;..4 I