Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1902-12-11

e"o heau VI Tic Day OF tundy. One
hundred and sixty years ago it was
an important section of the debatable
ground between the French and Eng
lish powers in North America. To
day it is famed for it's harvests of
rich grass, for the wild fowl that
flock in with the high tides of spring
and autumn, and for the storms
which rake it from end to end. One
used to hear also by times the tale of
h House on the Uplands, though the
place has fallen to ruins now. 1t was
my fortune to witness the denoue-
ment of that strange story. The
thing was unusual and not a little
sad. 1t took place, during a holiday
month spent on the borders of Tan
tremar. Looking back now, the
events seem to follow from a certain
afternoon in August.
l was riding my wheel along the
road skirting the wide marsh which
stretched away on the left until it
merged in a line of rolling hills. To
the right was the gradual ascent of
the uplands, with here and there a
farmhouse OF a clump of spruce trees.
In front and far away the dark
waters of Fundy brimmed to the blue
Move Scotia coast and the free hori-
zon. The scene showed full Of color,
for the low sun was lighting up all
the countryside. The tall marsh grass
stood yet unharvested, so that over
the whole expanse of Tantremar it
surged and rippled in wave like lines
as the wind swept across. Every
thing was peaceful, and even the
hard, level road could not tempt me
beyond a very moderate speed. 1
moved slowly forward until l came to
the summit of a long slope.
For some distance past I had been
vaguely conscious of a house that
seemed to dominate the highway just
at this point. When 1 reached the top
OF the rise my indolent consciousness
became stronger, and l glanced
quickly at the house. 1t was a big,
square building, painted a dead white,
and standing on a knoll back from the
road. Several huge elms were scat
tered about. A garden lay in front,
bright with flowers, and through this
a short path led to the door. This
much 1 took in at a glance; a second
served to produce another impress
sion-there was something unpleas-
ant about the place.
AS drew abreast of the garden a
figure rose from among the tall flow
ers and hailed me. l dismounted and
approached the gate, where an old
man was standing. He spoke in a
s%ingularly gentle voice.
"Sir," said he, "have you passed
anyone lately, coming in this direc-
ton? A tall man, it would have been,
on horseback"
"No," l answered, "the road seemed
deserted this afternoon"
The old man looked at me wistful-
ly, signing Is if much disappointed.
"Whom are you expecting?" 1 ven
tured--a little touched, I must adj
NIT, by his aspect.
cts my BROTHER" he replied. "My
brother James. I've been looking for
him these many years, but this sun
mer 1 know he's coming back, and
we'll go off to England together-to
England-home"-and again he shot
that wistful glance at my face.
"To England" I exclaimed. "That's
q far cry from Tantremar. But I am
hot and thirsty. Can you give me q
drink of water? Then, if you will,
you can tell me about your brother.
I am going to the village, and perhaps
may see him there"
The old mans face lighted up
eagerly. He opened the gate, which
sagged heavily back on creaking
hinges.
81 take this right kind of you, sir"
he said. "Come up to my house and
accept my hospitality"
The old man turned to me when we
reached the house.
II am afraid" said he, shat James
horse may shy at that machine of
yours if he comes up to the house
and passes it. hope you won't mind
putting it to one side"
"Certa1nly nOt,' 1 replled. III
put it here around the corner"
Within the house the rooms were
large, and as we entered one of them
from the wide hallway a smell of
musty age came to my nostrils. My
host threw open some heavy shutters
and the sunlight poured in, revealing
an 'old-fashioned parlor with furni-
ture in the fashion of q generation
back-massive, dark and rich. All
was on a far grander scale than that
of the farmhouses round about.
I sat down, but no sooner had the
old man left the room than I started
up again, with the peculiar sensation
that some one was watching me. l
glanced hastily around. The light
flooded every corner, and no hiding
place was visible, unless it should be
behind the heavy window curtains.
Half ashamed of myself, I went over
and pulled them aside. Then 1 turned
back, and instantly my attention was
seized by a portrait which hung above
the mantlepiece. 1t was the mourn
full face of a man, with eyes that fol-
lowed ones every movement. This
explained my uneasiness--I had un-
consciously caught their gaze fixed
upon me.
At this moment, however, my host
returned with the water. As I drank
he pointed to the picture, saying:
"That is my brother, before he left.
Amany years ago, sir! A many years
ago! But I'll tell you about him"
We both sat down, and for a space
mn utter silence wrapped us while the
old man gazed earnestly at the por-
trait over the mantel. This is the
story he told me-in monotonous ac-