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Updated: May 12, 2025
"I, John Harris, of Willdon, in the parish of Hastlebury, in the county of Worcester, yeoman, for and in consideration of ten shillings of lawful English money this day received of Henry Herbert of Ribbesford, in the said county, Esqr., and of thirty shillings more of like money by him promised to be hereafter pay'd me, do hereby covenant and promise to and with the said Henry Herbert, his exors and admors, that I will, from the day of the date hereof, untill the first day of March next, well and sufficiently mayntayne and keepe a Spanile Bitch named Quand, this day delivered into my custody by the said Henry Herbert, and will, before the first day of March next, fully and effectually traine up and teach the said Bitch to sitt Partridges, Pheasants, and other game, as well and exactly as the best sitting Doggers usually sett the same.
A boy told me it would not be open until the afternoon. From a drugstore I called "information" in Willdon, and finally got connected with some undertaker to whom the Willdon operator referred me. He used one ghastly word that made me shudder unrecognizable. I rang off. I knew then for the first time the horror of loneliness. I thought of the poor little man's notebook that I had seen.
As I drove into the town I had to wait at the grade crossing while a wrecking train rumbled past, on its way back from Willdon. That meant that the line was clear again. I watched the grimy men on the cars, and shuddered to think what they had been doing. The Vigor county jail lies about a mile out of the town, an ugly, gray stone barracks with a high, spiked wall about it.
Apparently the express that left Providence at four o'clock on Saturday afternoon had crashed into an open siding near Willdon about six o'clock, and collided with a string of freight empties. The baggage car had been demolished and the smoker had turned over and gone down an embankment. There were ten men killed... my head swam. Was that the train the Professor had taken? Let me see.
How different all this was from my girlhood visions of romance. That has been characteristic of my life all along it has been full of homely, workaday happenings, and often rather comic in spite of my best resolves to be highbrow and serious. All the same I was something near to tears as I thought of the tragic wreck at Willdon and the grief-laden hearts that must be mourning.
I wondered whether the Governor was now returning from Willdon after ordering an inquiry. On his card he had written: "Please release R. Mifflin at once and show this lady all courtesies." So I didn't anticipate any particular trouble. This made me all the more anxious to push on, and after crossing the ferry we halted in Woodbridge only long enough for supper.
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