to find in another quarter the legend.
In an occasional paper styled the Old Powder House, printed for a church fair in 1878, was A Legend of the Old Mill, by Mrs. L. B. Pillsbury,—in all thirty-two verses.
That writer (unlike the former one) had the grace to append a footnote, thus:—
Suggested by the facts given in Drake's Fields and Mansions of Middlesex.
As the eviction of the Acadians from Grand Pre was in 1755, and the sale of the old mill to the province for a powder house in 1747, there is room for doubt of the legend.
But the writer certainly followed Drake's prose in poetic form.
Our space forbids its reproduction but we quote its finale:—
In tones of thunder, a voice from below— ‘Let go of that cord, I say, let go, Or you are a dead man,’—too late!
too late! For e'en as the word of alarm was spoke, The silent old mill with avenging stroke Out of its lethargy suddenly woke, And Dick Wynne, the debauchee, had met his fate. Mangled and bleeding, with t