Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1904-04-22


was asleep. Often not a person would
be visible the entire length Of its main
street, cooled by three rows Of naples,
one dividing it and one shading each
of the two sidewalks formed of narrow
strips of weather stained marble. Un-
der some of these trees that almost
touch branches for half a mile one or
two cows might be grazing or taking
siesta while chewing the cud Of con-
tent. On the vine hid porch Of the
village tavern Landlord Pell would
quite likely be doing in an armchair
tilted back. and across the way Mr..
Hobbs, who keeps the one general
store, would as likely be mapping on a
counter, his bead pfllowed-upou- pile
Of calico. A little farther up the street
and near the one tall spired white
church Mrs. Mears, the village gossip,
may be sitting on the veranda Of a
small house almost hid by luxuriantly
growing Norway spruce and idly rock
ing while she chats with the Widow
Sloper, who lives there and whose mis-
sion in life is to cut and fit the best
"go to meetin'" gowns Of female Sand
gate. Both dearly love to talk over all
that's going on, and whether this or
that village swain Is paying especial
attention to any one rosy checked lass,
and, if so, whats likely to come ont"
Both mean well by this neighborly in
terest, and especially does Mrs. Sloper,
who always advises plaits for stout
women, with middlin' fullness In the
bust for thin ones.
One or two men may be at work hay
ing in the broad meadows west Of the
village, through which the slow cur
rent Of a small river twists and turns,
or others welding hoes on a hillside
field Of corn to the east, but 80 far as
moving life in the village street goes
there will be none. On either side of
the Sandgate valley two spurs Of the
Green mountain range, forest clad,
stand guard as If to isolate from all
the world this peaceful dale, whose
dwellers' sole ambition in life may be
summed up in to plow, plant, reap and
60 to meeting.
On the north end Of this park-like
highway and beyond the last house it
narrows to an ordinary roadway and
divides. One fork turns to the right,
following up the banks Of winding
stream to an old gristmill with moss
covered wheel and lily dotted pond
above. The other turns to the left,
crosses the narrow Sandgate valley
and bears south past the Page place.
If It were Sunday, not many years ago
and about II in the morning, stran-
ger passing the church would have
heard through the open doors and win
dows the exquisitely sweet voice Of
Alice Page, clear as bell and melodi-
GUS as a birds, toying and trilling
through Coronation" or some other
easily recognized hymn, and had that
stranger awaited the close Of service
he or she would have seen among the
congregation filing out one petite and
plump little lady, with flower-like face,
sparkling blue eyes and kiss inspiring
mouth, who would most likely have
walked demurely along with her big
brother Alber and, turning down a
narrow pathway, follow him across
the meadows, over q footbridge that
spans the stream and up to an old
fashioned elm shaded house.
This landmark. known far and wide
as the Page place. Is historic. Built In
the time Of King George and one Of
the first three erected in Sandgate, 1t
has withstood the storms Of two centu-
ries and seen many generations Of
Pages come and so. Additions have
been made to tan ell on one side,
larger windows and q wide veranda In
front. Inside it is much the same, lor
the open fireplaces remain in parlor
and sitting room, and tall clock Of
solemn tick stands in the hall where 1t
stood when Paul Revere took his IA
nous ride.
The last owner, Simeon Page, or, as
he was called, Squire Page, Joined
the great majority two years after an
enterprising railroad crept up the
Sandgate valley. He had bitterly op-
posed its entrance into the town, and
It was asserted that chagrtn at bis de-