Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1905-11-07

| cnlQery ne uTaWleu.
81 callate you amt heard the news
Fri. Web Saunders has got his orig
Inal package license. 1t come on the
noon mail"
The captain turned sharply toward
the speaker. SIS that fact" he
asked. "Who told you?"
"See it myself So did Squealer and
a whole lot more. Web was shOwin' II
round"
1--WE was wonderin'," said Jabez
smalley, a member Of the committee
whose standing was somewhat impair
ed, inasmuch rs he went fishing occa.
sionally and was therefore obliged to
miss some of the meetings, "what kind
of a fit John Baxter would have now
He's been pretty nigh distracted ever
sence Web started his billiard room,
callin' it 'ha'nt Of sim and whole
lot more names. There amt been a
Come Cutters meetin'' sence l don't
know when that he amt pitched ine1
that saloon. Now, when he hears that
Webs goin' to sell rum he'll bust a
b'iler sure"
The committee received this proph-
ecy with hilarious shout Of approx
al, and each member began to talk.
Captain Err took advantage Of this 81
multaneous expression Of opinion to
walk away.
From the clump Of blackness that In
dicated the beginning Of the West Or
ham woods came long drawn, dismal
"toot," then two shorter ones. The
committee sprang to Its feet and Look
ed interested. Sam Hardy came out of
his ticket office. The stage driver, a
sharp looking boy of about fourteen.
with disagreeable air of cheap smart
ness sticking out all over him, left his
seat in the shadow Of Mr.. Batcheldor's
manly form. tossed a cigarette stump
away and loifed over to the vicinity
Of the depot wagon, which was back
ed up against the platform. Captain
Fri knocked the ashes from his pipe
and put that service stained veteran
in his pocket. The train was really
"coming>in" Mt last.
If this had been an August evening
instead of a September one, both train
and platform would have been crowd
ed. But the butterfly summer maiden
had fitted, and. as is his wont. the
summer man had fitted after her. so
the passengers who alighted from the
two coaches that. with the freight car.
made up the Orham branch train were
few in number and homely in flavor.
There was n slim. not to say gawky,
individual with chin beard and rub
Der boots. whom the committee hailed
as Andy and welcomed to its bosom.
There were two young men. drummers
evidently, who nodded to Hardy and
seemed very much at home. Also.
there was another young man. smooth
shaven and square shouldered who
deposited a suit case on the platform
and looked about him with the air OF
being very far from home indeed.
The drummers got into the stage.
The young man with the suit case
picked up the latter and walked to-
ward the same vehicle He accOsted
the sharp boy. who had lighted an
other cigarette.
"Can you direct me to the cable sta.
tion?" he asked.
"Sure thingw said the youth. and
there was no Cape Cod twist to his
accent. "Git aboard"
81 didn't intend to ride" said the
stranger.
"What was you goin' to do? Walk"
eyes, II IT'S not far"
The boy grinned. and the members OF
the committee, who had been staring
with all their might, grinned also. The
young mans mention Of the cable sta
ton seemed to have caused consider
abe excitement.
"Oh, it amt too far" said the stage
driver. Then lie added, Say. you're
the new electrician. amt you:"
The young man hesitated for mo-
L. 1ucu Sdib, AsS' ohu S"S
gested, II asked the way"
1.-TWO blocks to the right. That's the
main road. Keep OH that for four
blocks, then turn to the left. and II
you keep OIL straight ahead you'll get
to the station"
"Blocks?" The stranger smiled. u
think you must be from New York"
do you:" inquired the youthful
prodigy, climbing to the wagon seat.
Don't forget to keep straight ahead
after you turn of the main road. Git
dap! So long, fellers"
The square shouldered young man
looked after the equipage with IN odd
expression Of countenance. Then lie
shrugged his shoulders, picked up the
suit case and walked off the platform
into the darkness.
A little later Captain Fri, with Il
dozen new, clean smelling cranberry
barrels in the wagon behind him, drove
slowly down the depot road" 1t was
clear night, but there was no moon,
and Orham was almost at its darkest,
which Is very dark indeed. The depot
road" please bear in mind that there
are no streets in Orham) was full OF
ruts, and although Daniel knew his
way and did his best to follow it the
cranberry barrels ratified ana shook in
lively fashion. There are few homes
near the station, and the dwellcrs in
them consciously refrain from showing
lights except in the ends OF the build
ings furthest from the front. Stran-
gers are inclined to wonder ut this, but
when they become better acquainted
with the town and its people they come
to know that front gates and parlOrs
are, by the majority Of the inhabitants,
restricted in their use to occasions such
as funeral or possibly wedding.
1t is from the hill by the Methodist
church that the visitor to Orham gets
his best view Of the village. 1t is all
about him and, for the most part, be-
low him. At night the tiny red speck
In the distance that goes and comes
again is the dashlight ut Setuckit point,
and the twinkle on the horizon to the
south is the beacon of the lightship on
Sand Hill shOal.
1t may be that the young man with
the square shoulders and the suit case
had paused at the turn of the road by
the church to listen to the song Of the
sea. At any rate, he was there, and
when Captain Fri steered Daniel and
| tho oranherry IN rrpls around the cor.