Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1901-08-12
HAZARDS OF A RURAL ROMANCE.

characters, with one exception, have
actually existed. The various locai-
ties, excepting the swamp, are
described about as they appeared
several years ago.
The mail train was just beginning to
descend the Canadian slope lead
ing down to Barton on a June
evening back in the early eighties.
At the open side door of the mail car
two young men were resting for few
minutes, after long and weary day
of the hardest and worst paid for work
in the United States government
service. Uncle Sam, for some unac-
countable reason, seems unapprecia-
tive of the mental and physical skill
required by the men who distribute
his mails in the railway mail service
and the danger which hourly confronts
them, for in case of accident their car
leads the way into disaster and be-
comes a cage of death.
On the left of the train the rocky
ridges of the green hills of Vermont
shut out the beauty Of the landscape
beyond, but from the right side Of the
train could be seen a fair picture.
From beneath the visor of his cap,
adorned with the gold letters ''R. III. s."
the grey eyes Of the "clerk in charge"
lighted with admiration as he looked
over hill, valley and water The far
Their side of the valley, now lying far
below them, was bounded by COM
manding range of hills clad in garb
of the brightest green. In the valley,
but far to the northward could be seen
the waters of Silver Lake glistening IN
the glow of the setting sun. Just be-
meath the train there lay wide moor
or marsh adorned with few stunted
trees and Doggy land.
In the midst of this rather wild
looking tract, mile long perhaps,
stood g house. 1t looked like the
house of seven gables, but only five
could be found by the the man whose
attention was now fixed on it. 1t had
once been painted white, but the
storms and rainbeats of years had
done their work, and its dull lead
color made it look lonely and dreary.
Yet it seemed to fit into its surround
ing, for all about was spectral, cheer
less and deserted.
s'That house makes me think of
house in Canada, said to be haunted"
remarked he of the grey eyes. sit
was located in sort of swamp like
that, two miles from any other hab-
itation. Many tried to sleep there,
but if a person tried it alone, at the
stroke of midnight he was rudely
taken out and run mile at full speed,
in spite of every resistance. If sew
eral people tried it, the very first
moment the house contained but one
person, man, woman or child, that
person went galloping off until mile
away. believe I will write a story
of that house some day." he continued,
for it looks as if it had a sad history"
''You! Well, you really are expand
ing" said the other clerk, young
man, tall, handsome and blue eyed,
and he laughed with a right good will.
"By Jove! Isn't that a handkerchief
waving from it's Window" said he.
The other leaned out of the car door
and saw it also. Then they both
waved an answer and the train passed
on down the valley.
When the train stopped at Barton,
the tall young man stood in
readiness to exchange mail pouches
with the grim old mail carrier, who
had met that train in fair and foul
weather from time immemorial. That
transaction ended, he glanced back at
the passengers alighting from the
train. The very last to do so was q
young lady. Now this station is on
the shore of Silver Lake, and one
might expect to see coy little tick
ct Office and platform in such
charming spot. And that is what this
beautiful girl did expect to see, for
look, half of disgust, half of amuse-
ment, stole over her classical features
as she glanced around and among the
freight cars standing between her and
the old shack which answered for
station, endeavoring to see an open
ing by which to pass through them.
Her glance rested for second on Mr..
George Ellington, the tall young Off
Ger of the United States government,
who blushed like the school girls who
often came to the stations to receive
a glance from his merry blue eyes.
Then he pointed to the opening for
passengers, lifted his gold lettered
cap to her and was gone. For trains,
except in rare cases, operate much
after the fashion of Father Time, and