File:Zigzag journeys in the White city. With visits to the neighboring metropolis (1894) (14760798401).jpg

Identifier: zigzagjourneysin01butt (find matches)
Title: Zigzag journeys in the White city. With visits to the neighboring metropolis
Year: 1894 (1890s)
Authors: Butterworth, Hezekiah, 1839-1905
Subjects: World's Columbian Exposition (1893 : Chicago, Ill.)
Publisher: Boston, Estes and Lauriat
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
ide silvery light swept overthe scene. I was surely on a projecting edge of rock, or platform, over a pond. Suddenly I heard a sound in the bushes. It was a patter of feet. A dogcame bounding out of the savins toward me. He rose up, springing as it wereinto the air, shook his paws, and cried, — I can hear it now, — Silas! It was my old coach dog. I hurried back to the road, followed by the dog. Was it a dream?What had happened? At near midnight I came to my old friends farmhouse at Randolph, androused the family. Before any one could speak I pointed to the dog. 196 ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN THE WHITE CITY. Tell me, for heavens sake, what is that? I cried. That is a dog, said my old friend, the farmer, — your old coach dog.What did you think it was? Where did you find him? We went the next morning to the scene of my nights adventure. One ofthe first things that we saw was the dead body of Searle, floating on the pond. The light in the window of the Phantom inn had allured me to the edge
Text Appearing After Image:
SCENE IN OLD VIENNA. of a broad, false precipice, and I was just about to fall over into the pond whenmy old coach dogs warning word had saved me. The dog had evidentlydragged his dark-minded master over the rocky cliff into the pond. Searle had carried the window and light in his hand, and with coveredfeet had moved back to allure travellers. Silas? Yes, I must answer that question. What became of him ? Itook him back to Albany with me. He was an old dog then, and used torepeat that word in his distress. He said it more than once on the day thathe died. FOLK-LORE TALES IN THE OLD COLONIAL KITCHEN. 197 Another story, related by Mr. Marlowe, which was quite appropri-ate to the place, was as follows: — THE GREAT CHESHIRE CHEESES. THE Masons, whose history I used to hear, were among the founders ofNew Providence, the vanished village of the autumnal Berkshire Hills. I wellrecall the stories of Elder Leland that I used to hear in my old Swansea home,and especially the awful ghost-story

Note About Images