The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1913-09-27
4 OLD FERRYWOMAN
HAS RAFT ON HUDSON
Nearly 80, Has Been At 1t
For Twenty
Years.

NEW YORK, Sept 27.-Times have
changed since Charon had the mono
poly of ferrying; women have enter
ed the field One of the pioneers is a
ferry-woman of long experience and
superior ability; she has steered her
raft from shore to shore of the Hud-
son river for twenty years or more.
The traveller who comes to the
rivers edge near Mechanicsville, wish
ing to be ferried over to the farms
and village beyond, is puzzled for
way to summon the raft at anchor on
the other side. 1t is so quiet and
beautiful a place in the MONDAY still
ness that transportation seems a mat
ter foreign to the business of the day,
and for a moment the stranger looks
about him. He sees only green fields
Of farm land, misty willows by the
water, red and blue flowers in warm,
wahectic bunches-and a horn hang
ing on a nail on an old elm by the
dock
The raft comes slowly zigzagging
across. held to its course by cable,
and Mag appears, shading her eyes
with a knotty brown hand for
look at the newly arrived. She is
woman between seventy and eighty,
q cotton dress. Her dark face is
wrinkled, shrewd and humorous.
Wal, who be we, where be ye from,
and where are ye going?" is her greet
ing as she docks. AS they move
across the river Mag puts him through
the third degree, and gossips lavlshly
about his destination and all the fam
lilies for miles around, never failing
10 par the blame or praise where it be-
longs.
Gene down to my cabin tonight and
well talk some more she calls after
him as ne starts up the hill; IF
you're from Boston | guess we know
acL:t o The same things, and I'll be
Eiad 10 see ye."
And he who is from Boston, being
interested in his people,
az - eli a. his lelloW-man, goes walk
ina Tar down the river bank in the
dusk to the little cabin. Mag is on the
doorstep, smoking her odorOus corn
cob pipe But their conversation is
not news to him, for he has heard the
history Of the woman through the day.
Mag, once Margaret, was the daugh-
ter of Boston clergyman. she was
a musician, and, for a time, was or
ganist of her fathers church The
man looked at Mag as she sat,
smoking, on her doorstep, and thought
of whom he had been told. Margaret
had married a farmer, and had come
to live in New York state. The farmer
was not a successful one; he was lazy
His wife's life was hard. She drifted
with the tide and finally she ferried
the farmers from shore to shore, lived
alone in the cabin by the river, and
was again independent.
Old Ben Across River.
Their evening was interesting; she
showed him her house-an odd mix.
ture of unkept and a former taste for
the beautiful and worthwhile. A few
good books were in the house, its best
possession. They walked down the
bank to the place where an opening in
the trees showed another cabin ON the
other side of the river. That's where
he lives" she said, shortly.
"Who?"
"Old Ben. He's my husband
Her conversation was made up OF
bits of wisdom, acute knowledge of hu
man nature, defiance of the world
mixed with a certain usefulness fol-
its approval, and an astonishing desire
to know what was happening in tha
world-somewhat mixed and unprun
ed, but knowledge for all that. She
was greedy for news. Her love fol
books and music was deep and for
hidden subject. After her guest hat
gone, Mag caught her fish for break
fast, in the river.
In the morning she was on hand t.
ferry him over.
Goodby, Mr. Eston," she said, I'm
going to shake hands with ye. Sc
you're from Boston and you're COINS
back! Wal, I'm going to stay RICH
here. I'm independent, and I'm abou
as happy as any one is in this world
She gave him quizzica glance
then released the raft and began an
other ZigZag crossing.