Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-04-07
CHAPTER I.
The Affair at Tressler's Farm.

vania, and men called the heap the Seven
I Mountains.
/ They are not mountains al all, but long
ridges like giant burrows plowed deep into
/ the very sandstone and left ragged ana
chaotic Straight on they go for leagues,
making a right line of the horizon, the
/ second and third ridges following as II
drawn with a pantograph. Here and
( there is wild slash across the furroW
! rip into the very foundations Of the
! range, and through the rock snarl at the
bottom worms scared little stream 1t
! is a gap-so they cali it-and II one can
wriggIe through the jagged litter anu
the rhododendron spiked like a wire
tangIe 1t will lead him into the next val
| ley, which is often narrow gut full of
| torn sandstone and matted scrub, where
/ only the rattIesnake may freely go. Often
! there is a bend in the burrows, mad
t swirl as If the primal dough had been
| stirred with a giant mixer. Then the
! burrows run straight again.
| Thus the Seven Mountains, a ragged hole
: In the heart of the east, where the wild
turkey still wakes the morning, where
! the bear and the deer still flourish ana
| where the eagle and the buZzard wing
| undisturbed. The ridge sides, rising sheer
! and as steep as rock debris will lie, are
! like the tailings of mighty stone quarries'
! a rev DEAD SCfaES Oh trees Dream tiiS shy
| line; here and there in the rock chaos are
| scrub-oak thickets blasted by hre, ana IN
| the angle of the always little BROOK
| altering through the rhodooenoron
! tangle. Then come ridges and mighty
| breaks and Jagged cliffs and right-angle
turns, and sometimes there are the ruth
| less tracks of lumbermen-valleys chok-
ell up with hemlock tops snarled into the
| rhododendron, ramshackle sawmills long
since deserted winding "dinkey roads
rusted out long ago and half buried in
the fire-growth. and the erect or 1t all Is
| indescribably lonely and Wlld.
But the valleys are not all Of them v
| shaped and Uttered There are places
where the ridges leap far asunder, leav.
| prosperous farms. Sometimes. there are
small, shut-in valleys, like pockets IN the
| range. the homes of secluded communi-
ties-a coy bunch of farms strung on
winding road and bounded sharply by
| two gaps and the stone line at the foot OF
| the ridges. And of these might be count
| ed the alluviaI banks of Heliers Run;
better known on the local maps as Hell
| Bottom
| So much for geography.
| 1t was December the nth Dan IIess 81
iers bntchering day as ,o,a any 90 one early
| as the preceding June the sign
was right. and the moon was in the
| tom had butchered on Thanksgiving DAY
! as he and his fathers always had done;
| Jake Kisterbock had duly followed ana
| now by every valley right 1t was Dan Tres
| sler's day. Things are not done by chance
| among the thrifty Dutch. Baer alma
| nae and the tradition of the fathers rule
| central PENNSYLVANIA with despotic sway.
| There was no lack of help A ''meetin
| on Sunday at the Bottom church brings Out
a goodly number, If the weather be me;
| funeral gathers the old people; "schnlt-
| tin " IN the fall, the young; but putch-
erin" calls for everybody not 'bedfast,
be the weather what 1t may. Not that all
the inhabitants, hit or miss. are called
For your 'latons"
goes the valley proverb. but the rule bars
no one; for another valley saying is to the
| effect that nobody can fire a stone" at
| random in any of the Dutch valleys ana
| not hit second cousin.
| 1t promised ideal bUtcherlng weather
AS early as 4 IN the morning lanterns
| were dancing like frefiies. All was hustle
! and din. Water heating in copper ket-
| tles-the valleys supply of kettles; scald-
! ing tubs were rolling upon temporary
| bookings; scraping tables were arising;
| knives were grinding, the sound coming up
| a dull creaking from behind the corn cribs;
and boys, eager and excited, were sour
| rying hither and back IN the half light
! shouted at and commanded until they were
| like hens with their heads Off In the
| Kitchen the housewife, calm but pale, was
! presiding like general at the outset of
! campaign for the valley eaters. like a flock
! of buzzards, We're to descend at noon, and
| she well knew that her dinner, coed or PAD,
would be a topic for year to come.
| 1t was one of those clear, crisp mornings
| when there is a steel ring in the air and
ones breath floats out like whiffs of smoke.
I An inch of frowsy snow had whisked over
| everything the day before, and 1t had
t grown colder during the night. In the east
| over the black silhouette of Nance noun
! tain hung long iron bars of cloud, untouch-
! ed as yet by the approaching dawn. From
! the valley there came up a faint murmur,
! which the vibrant air soon became dis
| tinguishable as the grumble of wheels over
I no.. rT. ,-ertaf 4
| and Strengthened up over his grindstone.
Bet yeh that's old Milf still. Vas? Hear
| them wheels clunk?' He ran his thumb
! critically over the knife edge. then stopped
! the stone with water from gourd. 'Old
/ Mind set up ali night fore he'd let any
| body get to butcherin' fore he did
| wunst. Turn er right up smart, Jakey.
He was n picturesque figure as he
| crouched over the flying stone In the un-
| certain light, his grizzled beard almost
| sweeping the knife in his hands and his
I eyes blinking small and sharp behind IRON
/ bowed spectacles. He wore a 'warmus,
| which fitted tightly at the waist, and
! wooden cap pulled down over his ears.
| He was eager little man, who on great
| occasions like this went about on the dog
/ trot. A wagon drove heavily into the yard.
| and with a nervous jerk he wheeled about
| to meet it, the long knife fiourishing In his
hand.
Wal, now, who'd "a thought it ,wunst?
It's you sure enough, amt It. now. Milf?
| And you here, Maria? Wal, by Chimminy!
! How gents? Jump right out now; the
woman's In there crazy's a bed bug still,
Better go right in and help er out. Here,
punt yer boss right ia the barn, Milf. There
! you be-" He busting jerkily about
| the wagon.
| That's fine day, Dam
| Yes, sir-r-r-r BY Chimminy, here comes
| Lem" Another farm wagon drove into the
| yard. and then another and another. The
| crowd was appearing. The little man fairly
danced in his progress from rig to rig. like
! a weasel in a trap" as Lem Fisher phrased
| II.
The hustle was increasing Roadside and
yard were filing rapidly with farm wagons
of all varieties, and with horses No time
was lost; each man had brought some i'm
plement that 1t his especial duty to
furnish at pulley-blocks.
/ hooks, kettles, kniyes-and each knew his
part and went al II instantly without or
ders. The women and the girls went
straight into the house, where they took
| their places with an order and dispatch
gained by the experience OF many butcher
| ings.
"Ah. here's old Poppy already. Here, let
/ me help you out, Poppy. Chust you wait
| a minute wunst." But the old man did not
/ md IL,