University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.
AN ADVERTISEMENT.

ON Saturday, the 18th day of June, 1859, the “State
Banner and Delphian Oracle,” published weekly at
Oxbow Village, one of the principal centres in a thriving
river-town of New England, contained an advertisement
which involved the story of a young life, and startled the
emotions of a small community. Such faces of dismay,
such shaking of heads, such gatherings at corners, such
halts of complaining, rheumatic wagons, and dried-up, chirruping
chaises, for colloquy of their still-faced tenants, had
not been known since the rainy November Friday, when
old Malachi Withers was found hanging in his garret up
there at the lonely house behind the poplars.

The number of the “Banner and Oracle” which contained
this advertisement was a fair specimen enough of the
kind of newspaper to which it belonged. Some extracts
from a stray copy of the issue of the date referred to will
show the reader what kind of entertainment the paper was
accustomed to furnish its patrons, and also serve some incidental
purposes of the writer in bringing into notice a few
personages who are to figure in this narrative.

The copy in question was addressed to one of its regular

subscribers, — “B. Gridley, Esq.” The sarcastic annotations
at various points, enclosed in brackets and italicised
that they may be distinguished from any other comments,
were taken from the pencilled remarks of that gentleman,
intended for the improvement of a member of the family
in which he resided, and are by no means to be attributed
to the harmless pen which reproduces them.

Byles Gridley, A. M., as he would have been styled by
persons acquainted with scholarly dignities, was a bachelor,
who had been a schoolmaster, a college tutor, and afterwards
for many years professor, — a man of learning, of
habits, of whims and crotchets, such as are hardly to be
found, except in old, unmarried students, — the double
flowers of college culture, their stamina all turned to petals,
their stock in the life of the race all funded in the individual.
Being a man of letters, Byles Gridley naturally rather
undervalued the literary acquirements of the good people
of the rural district where he resided, and, having known
much of college and something of city life, was apt to
smile at the importance they attached to their little local
concerns. He was, of course, quite as much an object of
rough satire to the natural observers and humorists, who
are never wanting in a New England village, — perhaps
not in any village where a score or two of families are
brought together, — enough of them, at any rate, to furnish
the ordinary characters of a real-life stock company.

The old Master of Arts was a permanent boarder in the
house of a very worthy woman, relict of the late Ammi
Hopkins, by courtesy Esquire, whose handsome monument
— in a finished and carefully colored lithograph, representing
a finely shaped urn under a very nicely groomed

willow — hung in her small, well-darkened, and, as it were,
monumental parlor. Her household consisted of herself,
her son, nineteen years of age, of whom more hereafter,
and of two small children, twins, left upon her doorstep
when little more than mere marsupial possibilities, taken in
for the night, kept for a week, and always thereafter cherished
by the good soul as her own; also of Miss Susan
Posey, aged eighteen, at school at the “Academy” in
another part of the same town, a distant relative, boarding
with her.

What the old scholar took the village paper for it would
be hard to guess, unless for a reason like that which
carried him very regularly to hear the preaching of the
Rev. Joseph Bellamy Stoker, colleague of the old minister
of the village parish; namely, because he did not believe
a word of his favorite doctrines, and liked to go there so as
to growl to himself through the sermon, and go home scolding
all the way about it.

The leading article of the “Banner and Oracle” for
June 18th must have been of superior excellence, for as
Mr. Gridley remarked, several of the “metropolitan” journals
of the date of June 15th and thereabout had evidently
conversed with the writer and borrowed some of his ideas
before he gave them to the public. The Foreign News by
the Europa at Halifax, 15th, was spread out in the amplest
dimensions the type of the office could supply. More battles!
The Allies victorious! The King and General
Cialdini beat the Austrians at Palestro! 400 Austrians
drowned in a canal! Anti-French feeling in Germany!
Allgermine Zeiturg talks of conquest of Allsatia and Loraine
and the occupation of Paris! [Vicious digs with a
pencil through the above proper names.] Race for the

Derby won by Sir Joseph Hawley's Musjid! [That's
what England cares for! Hooray for the Darby! Italy
be deedeed!] Visit of Prince Alfred to the Holy Land.
Letter from our own Correspondent. [Oh! Oh! At
West Minkville?] Cotton advanced. Breadstuffs declining.
— Deacon Rumrill's barn burned down on Saturday
night. A pig missing; supposed to have “fallen a prey to
the devouring element.” [Got roasted.] A yellow mineral
had been discovered on the Doolittle farm, which, by
the report of those who had seen it, bore a strong resemblance
to California gold ore. Much excitement in the
neighborhood in consequence. [Idiots! Iron pyrites!]
A hen at Four Corners had just laid an egg measuring 7
by 8 inches. Fetch on your biddies! [Editorial wit!]
A man had shot an eagle measuring six feet and a half
from tip to tip of his wings. — Crops suffering for want of
rain. [Always just so. “Dry times, Father Noah!”]
The editors had received a liberal portion of cake from the
happy couple whose matrimonial union was recorded in the
column dedicated to Hymen. Also a superior article of
[article of! bah!] steel pen from the enterprising merchant
[shopkeeper] whose advertisement was to be found
on the third page of this paper. — An interesting Surprise
Party [cheap theatricals] had transpired [bah!] on Thursday
evening last at the house of the Rev. Mr. Stoker. The
parishioners had donated [donated! GIVE is a good word
enough for the Lord's Prayer. Donate our daily bread!]
a bag of meal, a bushel of beans, a keg of pickles, and a
quintal of salt-fish. The worthy pastor was much affected,
etc., etc. [Of course. Call 'em SENSATION parties and
done with it!] The Rev. Dr. Pemberton and the venerable
Dr. Hurlbut honored the occasion with their presence.
— We learn that the Rev. Ambrose Eveleth, rector of St.
Bartholomew's Chapel, has returned from his journey, and
will officiate to-morrow.

Then came strings of advertisements, with a luxuriant
vegetation of capitals and notes of admiration. More of
those Prime Goods! Full Assortments of every Article
in our line! [Except the one thing you want!] Auction
Sale. Old furniture, feather-beds, bed-spreads [spreads!
ugh!], setts [setts!] crockery-ware, odd vols., ullage bbls.
of this and that, with other household goods, etc., etc., etc.,
— the etceteras meaning all sorts of insane movables, such
as come out of their bedlam-holes when an antiquated
domestic establishment disintegrates itself at a country
“vandoo.” — Several announcements of “Feed,” whatever
that may be, — not restaurant dinners, anyhow, — also of
“Shorts,” — terms mysterious to city ears as jute and cudbear
and gunnybags to such as drive oxen in the remote
interior districts. — Then the marriage column above alluded
to, by the fortunate recipients of the cake. — Right
opposite, as if for matrimonial ground-bait, a Notice that
Whereas my wife, Lucretia Babb, has left my bed and
board, I will not be responsible, etc., etc., from this date. —
Jacob Penhallow (of the late firm Wibird and Penhallow)
had taken Mr. William Murray Bradshaw into partnership,
and the business of the office would be carried on
as usual under the title Penhallow and Bradshaw, Attorneys
at Law. — Then came the standing professional
card of Dr. Lemuel Hurlbut and Dr. Fordyce Hurlbut,
the medical patriarch of the town and his son. Following
this, hideous quack advertisements, some of them with
the certificates of Honorables, Esquires, and Clergymen.
— Then a cow, strayed or stolen from the subscriber.

— Then the advertisement referred to in our first
paragraph: —

MYRTLE HAZARD has been missing from her home in this place since
Thursday morning, June 16th. She is fifteen years old, tall and womanly for
her age, has dark hair and eyes, fresh complexion, regular features, pleasant smile
and voice, but shy with strangers. Her common dress was a black and white gingham
check, straw hat, trimmed with green ribbon. It is feared she may have come
to harm in some way, or be wandering at large in a state of temporary mental alienation.
Any information relating to the missing child will be gratefully received and
properly rewarded by her afflicted aunt,

MISS SILENCE WITHERS,

Besiding at the Withers Homestead, otherwise known as “The Poplars,” in this
village. je 18 i s 1t