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Updated: June 17, 2025
There was a single slip of paper inside and on it was written in the hand of the station agent: "If you would do your mother a service come to Wickford Junction at once." "Wickford Junction!" gasped Freda, as the messenger boy rode away. "Why, how did mother get there? That's in the opposite direction from Lamberton. Oh, there must have been some accident, and she has been taken there!
"Where is it?" asked Andy. "In a place called Wickford, Connecticut." "Wickford!" exclaimed Andy. "Why that's near New Haven, and Yale where I'm going this fall. Maybe I'll see you there, Link." "Maybe," assented the young farmer, and then, declining Andy's invitation to sit with the school lads, he passed on down the car aisle. Andy Blair had signed for Yale University.
IT was on one of the cool, brilliant days which early June brings to the Narragansett country, that the steamer "Eolus" pushed out from Wickford Pier on her afternoon trip to Newport. The sky was of a beautiful translucent blue; the sunshine had a silvery rather than a golden radiance.
Chorus from the party, "She is saved!" "And my sketch is gone up again." "I'm sorry, Mr. Forbes." The girl looked full of innocent regret. "But when I was up there I had to come down that tree. I couldn't help it, really." On the Fourth of July, at five o'clock in the morning, the porters called the sleepers out of their berths at Wickford Junction.
The antiquarian who has seen these old temples and asks for others on the New England coast will turn with scarcely less interest to St. John's, Portsmouth; the forsaken Trinity Church, Wickford, Rhode Island, built in 1706; or Trinity, Newport, where Bishop Berkeley used to preach.
All the way in the train she was a prey to nervous fears, and when the Junction was finally reached she was hardly able to keep up. But there was no sign of an accident, and her mother was not there when she alighted the only passenger to get off. Wickford Junction was hardly more than a flag station, and there was an agent there only part of the time.
Even the most sleepy tourist could not fail to be impressed with the exquisite beauty of the scene at Wickford Harbor, where the boat was taken for Newport. The slow awaking of morning life scarcely disturbed its tranquillity. Sky and sea and land blended in a tone of refined gray.
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