| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| Seamus |
Posted - December 21 2002 : 3:59:10 PM
Seamus sat comfortably in front of the fireplace, rocking slowly and staring into the flames, seemingly hypnotized by their random dancing. Its warmth penetrated to his very core, belying the cold wind howling and the blowing, drifting snow outside the small log cabin. He was glad he had spent the time to check and re-chink the place where it was needed. All indications were that this was to be a bitter winter. He was not worried, though, because he and Nancy (now the gray-haired lass) had laid up a great quantity of vegetables from their garden and fruit from the orchard. The woodshed was stacked full; stacked to the very top with well-seasoned oak and maple, and the porch was piled high, ready at arm's length should snowdrifts totally close the path to the woodshed.
He'd had a successful early hunt and the meat had been smoked, dried and stored carefully. With a little luck he would soon be adding another fat deer to their larder. “The hunt. Ah, yes...the hunt.!” he thought. Holding his long clay pipe gently between his thumb and first two fingers along its slender stem, he drew a breath inward, savored it, then expelled a cloud of aromatic smoke toward the fireplace. Seamus chuckled to himself as he recalled that evening in early November, sitting under the shading branches of the huge chestnut, watching the deer trail 30 yards to his front, his flintlock rifle was lying across his lap, primed and ready. He had allowed his mind to wander and he began thinking about his early life in Ireland and how he came to Pennsylvania and ended up with his cousins in the Allemaengel and all the adventures they had together. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he did not see the big 8 point buck coming up the trail until it was almost too late. “Thank the Good Lord it was not a Shawnee! Bastard‘d had me for sure!” he chuckled aloud.
“What was that, Seamus?” asked Nancy (now the gray-haired lass) as she stopped rolling dough and looked up from the apple pie she was making. “Hmmm? Oh...nothing my dear. I was just thinking of something,” he replied.
Soon the old man was lost in thought again. “Those cousins of mine! Those crazy Hagenbuchs! The first time we went to that town, those guys nearly got me ruined..........”
**********************************************************************
The boys had awakened early at their forest camp...before daylight...had a quick breakfast, and had moved on toward the town; no one mentioning the white buck or “das Zukunftgesicht“, or future sight. Each lad kept his thoughts to himself as the miles and hours passed. Only small talk passed between them.
Finally arriving at the crossing of the Schuylkill River, the boys sat down against some trees near the edge of the Great Commons in the center of the town and took in the sights. Michael and Christian were awestruck with the number of people and all the hustle and bustle around them. Seamus, on the other hand, remarked that he wasn’t really impressed; after all, he had been to Philadelphia and had grown up in Belfast. Now THERE was a town! “Cousins,” he said, “you have not seen anything until you have seen the docks of Belfast or Philadelphia! You think there are a lot of people here? HAH!! Why this place is not even a real town yet, even though the people call it Reading. It is just a collection of buildings and people at the ford of the river and a ferry boat to get them back and forth. Someday I guess it will be a town, but it isn’t yet. I heard some men talking about it over there. They said they will call it Reading when it becomes official, probably in the next year, but right now it is nothing!”
The boys agreed that Seamus was probably right, and while it wasn’t official, everyone around Berks County had been calling the place “Reading” so they would, too!
As they sat there relaxing, they became aware of the smell of roasting meat drifting on the lazy breeze. Not having eaten anything but bread and cheese and a lit |
| 5 L A T E S T R E P L I E S (Newest First) |
| Many Flags |
Posted - December 22 2002 : 11:27:09 AM
Ja, sounds gut to mir, mein Freund! Let me see where my cousin, Sjt. MacWilliam, is and he can join us.....he can bring the flask!! Pax Aye! Many Flags of the Allemaengel |
| Drummer Edward Armstrong |
Posted - December 22 2002 : 10:02:49 AM
Hey Flags, go pull up a couple of chairs, I'll get some tobacco, you have the flask and we'll see where this story is heading! |
| Many Flags |
Posted - December 22 2002 : 07:00:20 AM
Seamus, mein liebe Vetter....continue on, continue on.....but make sure to tell the WHOLE story. Don't be changing things, you Irish-tongued storyteller!!! Pax Aye!! Many Flags |
| Drummer Edward Armstrong |
Posted - December 21 2002 : 5:04:51 PM
AAAAAHHHHH, Ireland.......Seamus, you sure know how to revive some memories for me! Although the Armstrong's are from the "Lowlands" of Scotland, you'll find that later on down the road some of them sort of....well, moved to Ulster to avoid some disagreement they had with a bully named James the 6th of England. Well anyway, they moved to Ulster with their pease loving ways which shows even still today! Look at Northern Ireland Now,....Nothing but Love!! AAAAAHHHHHHH Ireland!! |
| ladylight |
Posted - December 21 2002 : 5:03:00 PM
quote:
Originally posted by Seamus
“Just thinking, my love. Just thinking............”
(to be continued)
Please do, please do, Seamus! |
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