Earl, Cricket, Andrei discussed on Boring Books for Bedtime


The hour was as dismal as himself far below him the tappin z's brightens dusky and indistinct. Waste of waters with here and there. The tall mast of a sloop riding quietly at anchor under the land in the dead hush of midnight he could even hear the barking of the watchdog from the opposite shore of the hudson but it was so vague and faint as only to give an idea of his distance from this faithful companion of man now and then to the long drawn crowing of cock accidentally awakened what sound far far off from some farmhouse away among the hills but it was like a dreaming sound as ear. No signs of life occurred near him but occasionally the melancholy chirp of a cricket. Or perhaps the good earl twang of a bullfrog from neighboring marsh as if sleeping comfortably and turning suddenly in his bed all the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the afternoon now came crowding upon his recollection. The night grew darker and darker. The stars seem to sink deeper in the sky and driving. Clouds occasionally hit them from his site. He had never felt so lonely and dismal. He was moreover approaching the very place where many of the scenes of the ghost stories had been laid in the center of the road stood an enormous tulip tree which towered like a giant above all the other trees of the neighborhood and formed a kind of landmark. It's slim's were gnarled and fantastic large enough to form trunks for ordinary trees twisting down almost to the earth and rising again into the air. It was connected with the tragic story of the unfortunate andrei. Who had been taken prisoner hard by and was universally known by the name of major andres tree. The common people regarded it with a mixture of respect and superstition partly out of sympathy for the fate of its ill-starred namesake and partly from the tales of strange sights and doleful -tations told concerning it as it kabad approached this fearful tree. He began to whistle. He thought his wis saw was answered..

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