CHAPTER XII.THE MAIL-BAG.

CHAPTER XII.THE MAIL-BAG.

Newspaper! who has never felt the pleasure that it brings?It always tells us of so many strange and wondrous things.It makes us weep at tales of woe, it fills our hearts with mirth,It tells us of the price of stock, and what produce is worth;And when and where, and why, and how strange things occur on earth.Has war’s loud clarion called to arms? Has lightning struck a tree?Has Jenkins broke his leg? Or has there been a storm at sea?Has the sea-serpent shown his head? A comet’s tail been seen?Or has some heiress with her groom gone off to Gretna Green?All this and many marvels more you from this sheet may glean.—J. T. Watson.

Newspaper! who has never felt the pleasure that it brings?It always tells us of so many strange and wondrous things.It makes us weep at tales of woe, it fills our hearts with mirth,It tells us of the price of stock, and what produce is worth;And when and where, and why, and how strange things occur on earth.Has war’s loud clarion called to arms? Has lightning struck a tree?Has Jenkins broke his leg? Or has there been a storm at sea?Has the sea-serpent shown his head? A comet’s tail been seen?Or has some heiress with her groom gone off to Gretna Green?All this and many marvels more you from this sheet may glean.—J. T. Watson.

Newspaper! who has never felt the pleasure that it brings?It always tells us of so many strange and wondrous things.It makes us weep at tales of woe, it fills our hearts with mirth,It tells us of the price of stock, and what produce is worth;And when and where, and why, and how strange things occur on earth.Has war’s loud clarion called to arms? Has lightning struck a tree?Has Jenkins broke his leg? Or has there been a storm at sea?Has the sea-serpent shown his head? A comet’s tail been seen?Or has some heiress with her groom gone off to Gretna Green?All this and many marvels more you from this sheet may glean.—J. T. Watson.

Newspaper! who has never felt the pleasure that it brings?

It always tells us of so many strange and wondrous things.

It makes us weep at tales of woe, it fills our hearts with mirth,

It tells us of the price of stock, and what produce is worth;

And when and where, and why, and how strange things occur on earth.

Has war’s loud clarion called to arms? Has lightning struck a tree?

Has Jenkins broke his leg? Or has there been a storm at sea?

Has the sea-serpent shown his head? A comet’s tail been seen?

Or has some heiress with her groom gone off to Gretna Green?

All this and many marvels more you from this sheet may glean.

—J. T. Watson.

The autumn passed away as pleasantly as the summer.

The time drew near when the family from Old Lyon Hall were to go to Washington for the season.

Drusilla wrote to her housekeeper and steward at Cedarwood, giving them full instructions to prepare the cottage for the reception of herself and friends, and she enclosed an order on her banker for the necessary funds.

In due time she received a communication from mammyinforming her that all things were now ready for the party.

Then she consulted her relatives, and together they fixed upon a early day in January for the migration of the family. The General did not wish to move before that time, as he always preferred to spend his Christmas and New Year’s holidays at Old Lyon Hall.

Drusilla wrote again, and told her servants on what day to expect herself and her party.

But a very severe fall of snow, coming about the first of January, blocked up the country roads, impeded travel and delayed their journey, and also kept back the mails, so that for many days after the one appointed for their removal, the family remained at Old Lyon Hall, cut off from communication with the rest of the world.

When at last there came a change of weather, and the snow melted and sunk into the earth, or was exhaled into the air, and the roads though muddy were passable, a messenger was sent to the post-office at Saulsburg to fetch the letters and papers.

He returned in the afternoon with a mail-bag well stuffed. He brought it into the small parlor, where the domestic circle was gathered.

Only those who have been under like circumstances long debarred from news, can realize the avidity with which that bag was seized and unlocked, and its contents turned out upon the center table around which the whole family party immediately clustered.

There were several unimportant letters for everybody, which were, however, read with the greatest interest by these weather-bound recluses.

And there was one which immediately fixed Drusilla’s attention. It was from Cedarwood, and dated a few days back. Mammy was the writer, and after dilating upon the complete readiness of the cottage to receive the expected company, she wrote.

“And so we shall be a looking out for you on the fifth, ma’am. And now, I don’t no as there’s enny dainger, but before you brings yung Marster Lennud inter this enfected nayberhood, I deems it my duty to tell you as how the millignant skarlet fever is a ragin’ here, and akarryin’ off duzzins. All the childun at the Drovur’s Rest have got it; and likewise them that lives right across the road, opperside the gate as goes inter our place. But tho’ I deems it my duty for to tell you of this, I doo not no as there is enny danger, as in coorse yung Marster Lennud woudent be going amung them.”

Danger? Drusilla grew sick and turned pale at the very thought.

“What is the matter, my dear?” inquired General Lyon, looking up from his paper, and noticing her disturbance.

She silently handed him the letter. He read it attentively, and then looking over his spectacles, said:

“Of course, then, we must not think of going. Scarlet fever! bless my life and soul! Let us stay where we are.”

“What is it, dear grandpa?” inquired Anna, looking up from her letter, while Dick laid down his paper to listen.

“Scarlet fever, my love, raging around Cedarwood, and slaying as many as King Herod himself. Of course, we can’t think of such a thing as going there. What, expose little Leonard to such an infection? Suppose he was to catch the fever? and—the very idea makes me shudder! We’ll stay home; we’ll stay home, my children!” said the old man, emphatically, settling himself once more to his newspaper.

And, indeed, he was not sorry to have a good excuse for relinquishing the journey to Washington, which at this inclement season of the year could have no attraction for him.

“But if the ladies wish to go to the city, we can take apartments at one of the hotels,” suggested Dick.

General Lyon looked uneasy. He did not wish to go to Washington on any terms in such bad weather. He would have gone to Cedarwood, only to keep his word with Drusilla; but missing that, he did not want to go to a hotel. And now he was afraid of being outvoted.

Anna, however, came to his relief.

“Take apartments? No, I thank you, Dick! We would all like to go to Cedarwood and see Drusilla’s ‘pretty little wildwood home’ so near the city but, if we cannot go there, we will not pen ourselves up in a crowded hotel or boarding-house.”

“No;thatwe won’t!” put in the General.

“And I’m sure Drusilla thinks with us,” added Anna.

“Indeed I do,” acknowledged Drusa.

“So you see you are outvoted, my dear boy,” chuckled the General.

“Oh, as to myself,” said Dick, “I know when I’m well off, and I had a great deal rather stay here. It was for the ladies’ sake I spoke.”

“Then here we stay for the present, my children.”

“And so I must write and tell my housekeeper that she must cover up the furniture and close the rooms for the winter, as we are not going to Washington this season. But, my dear uncle, I hope we shall go early in the spring.”

“We shall go on the very first favorable opportunity, my dear, you may rely on that,” answered the veteran.

And then the sight of Drusilla’s unopened packet of foreign letters suggested a plan that he immediately proposed.

“And I’ll tell you what, my dears,” he said, “we have none of us seen Europe yet. Anna and Dick were to have gone there for a wedding tour, but they would not go so far away from the old man.”

“We should not have enjoyed the trip, dear grandpa, if you had not been with us. Neither I nor Dick cared to go to Europe until we could all go together.”

“Then, please Providence, we will go all together next spring,” said the General, looking around upon his young people. “What do you say, Anna?”

“We shall both be delighted,” answered Anna for herself and her husband, who immediately endorsed her reply.

“And you, Drusilla, shall you like to go to Europe?” inquired the General.

“Of all things! I have so long wished to see the old historical world!” she answered, pausing in her work of opening her foreign packet.

And then, for a little while, sitting around the table, they were all engaged in looking over the newspapers, each occasionally reading aloud to the others, who suspended their own employment to hear any little item of news supposed to be interesting.

“I declare there is nothing in our papers. Anything in yours, dear?” inquired Anna of Drusilla, who had been the only silent reader of the party.

“Not much of interest to us, over here. We do not care about the doings in Parliament, or the trials at the Old Bailey, or the meetings at Exeter Hall, or the murders in Bermondsey, or even about the movements of royalty and nobility.”

“Oh, yes, we do care about that last item. We are intensely democratic and republican here, and so of course we are breathlessly anxious to know where ‘Majesty,’ took an airing, what ‘Royal Highness’ wore to the opera, and whom ‘Grace’ entertained at dinner!” laughed Anna.

“Then read for yourself, my dear,” answered Drusilla, passing the “Times.”

“Andtoyourself also, my child. We are not interested in those high themes,” added the General, who was deep in a senatorial debate.

And Anna did read to herself for some time, but at length she exclaimed:

“Well, here is an item in which I think you will be interested, all of you.”

Drusilla started and looked up anxiously. She thought that Anna had come upon some news of Alexander, and she wondered how she herself could have overlooked such a matter.

Even the General laid down his paper to listen.

“Well, what is it, dear?” inquired Dick.

Anna read:

“‘The Barony of Killcrichtoun, so long in abeyance, has been claimed by a young American gentleman in right of his mother. The barony, it will be remembered, is not a male feoff only; but, failing male heirs, descends in the female line. The right of the new claimant is said to be indisputable. He is the great great grandson and only living descendant of George-Duncan-Bertie-Bruce, the tenth and last Baron of Killcrichtoun.’”

“Oh, I sawthat,” said Drusilla, with a look of disappointment.

“Who is he?” inquired General Lyon, indifferently.

“Does not say,” answered the reader.

“Some poor devil of an adventurer making a donkey of himself, I suppose,” said Dick.

“Come, I won’t read you any more sensational news if that is the way you treat it,” said Anna.

And the subject was dropped and forgotten.

The family circle then separated, each retiring to his or her own room, to fill up the time till the dinner hour with answering letters.

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