Newspaper Page Text
AMERICUS TIMES-RECORDER.
THURSDAY, JANUARY 1«. mi
7Ke Light
in the
Clearing
A Tale of the North
Country in the Time
Qf Silas Wright
By
IRVING BACHELLER
Author of “Eben Holden." "D’rl and
_ I," barrel of the Blessed Isles"
"Keeping Up With LUsis," Etc, Etc.
i urn*
(Copyright, 1917, Irring BacheUcr)
iDUtj
*Sold two sheep to Flariu* Curtin, * he water pail. I bow by his face
[ and took his note for $6. paynbte la that he was unusually wrought up.
8YN0P8I8.
CHAPTER I—Barton Baynes, orphan,
taken to live with his undo, Peabody
arnes, and his Aunt Deel on a farm on
attlero&d In a neighborhood called Lick*
/spUt about the year 1826. Barton meets
fially Dunkelberg, about hla own age, but
socially of a class above the Bayneses,
ana Is fascinated by the pretty face
and fine clothes.
CHAPTER H— Barton meets Roving
£}**• 4 k «? wn ,n .. the neighborhood as the
BUent Woman. Amos Grimshaw, young
•on of the richest man In the township.
{? * yt i to S . a « th £ Ba ynes home, and
Roving Kate tells the fortunes of the two
poys, predicting a bright future .for Bar
ton and death on the gallows for Amos.
Reproved for an act of boyish mischief
Barton runs away, intending to make his
&? mo .!T ,lh the *>unkelberis. He reaches
the village of Canton and falls into s
•leep of exhaustion on a porch. There
ft* U found by Silas Wright, Jr., promt-
6EL2“J n publlc »* fa * r ». who. knowing
Peabody Baynes, take. Barton bom. at-
tar buying him new clothes
CHAPTER III—Barton and hla uncla
%nd aunt vlalt Canton and bear Silas
Wright read a sermon.
CHAPTER TV—Silas Wright evinces
much Interest In Barton, and sends a box
of bookaand magazines to tha Baynes
borne. Th* election of Silas Wright to
tha United States senate la announced.
.CHAPTER V.
The Great Stranger
Some strangers came along the
road those days—hunters, peddlers
and the like—and their coming filled
me with a Joy which mostly went
away with them, I regret to say. Nona
of these, however, appealed to my
imagination as dlil old Kate. But
there was oae stranger greater than
«he—greater Indeed, than any other
who came Into Rattleroad. He came
-rarely and would not be long detained.
How curiously we looked at hlpi.
knowing his fame and power! This
great stranger was Money.
. I shall never forget the day that
my ancle showed me a dollar bill and
a little .shiny, gold coin and three
pieces of silver, nor can I forget how
carefully be watched them white
they lay In my hands and presently
put them back Into his wallet. That
was long before the time of which I
am writing. I remember hearing him
say, , one day of that year, when I
asked him to take us to the Caravan
ef Wild Beasts which was coming to
•the village:
“I’m sorry, but It's been a hundred
Sundays since I had a dollar In my
wallet for more than ten minutes.'
I have his old account book for
the years of 1837 and 1838. Here are
•ome of the entries:
“Balanced accounts with J. Doro
thy and gave him my note for $2.1(1
to be paid Id salts January 1, 1838.
Sold ten bushels of wheat to E. Miner
at BO cents, to be paid la goods.
boots on or before March the first'
| Only one entry In more, than
hundred mention money, and this was
the sum of eleven cents received In
balance from a neighbor.
So It will be seen that a spirit of
mutual accommodiitlnn served to
help us over the rough going. Mr.
Grimshaw, however, demanded his
pay In cash and that I find was main
ly the habit of the money-lenders.
We were poor but our poverty was
not like that of these days in which
I am writing. It was proud and
Cleanly and well-fed. Our fathers!
had seen heroic service In the wars
and we knew It
I wns twelve years old when I be
gan td bd the reader for onr little
family. Aunt Deel had long com
plained that she couldn’t keep up with
her knlttlng-and read so much. We
had not seen Mr. Wright for nearly
two years, but he had sent us the
novels of Sir Walter Scott and I hnd
led them heart deep Into the 'creed
battles of Old Mortality.
Then came the evil days of 1837,
when the story of onr lives began to
quicken Its pace and excite our Inter
est In Its coming chnptera. It gave
ns enough to think of. God knows, j
Wild speculations In land and the
American paper-money system hnd
'My heavens in' earth!” he
claimed as he sat down again.
“It's the brain colic.” I said to
myself as I looked at him.
Mr. Barnes seemed to have It also.
“Too much note,” I whispered.
"Tin awful sorry, but I've done
everything I could,” said Mr. Burnes.
“Ain't there somebody thut'll take
another mortgage?—It ought to be
safe now,” my uncle suggested.
“Money Is so tight it can't be done.
The bank has got all the money an'
Grimshaw owns tl\e bank. I’ve tried
and tried, but Til make you safe. Til
give you a mortgage until I can turn
’rouna.”
Ho I saw how Rodney Barnes, like
other settlers In Llckltyspllt. bad gone
Into bondage to the landlord.
"How much do you owe ou this
place?” Barnes asked.
“Seven hundred au' fifty dollars,”
suld my uncle.
“Is It due?"
“It's been due a year an* If I have
to pay that note I'll be ehort my in
terest.”
“God o’ Israel! I'm scalrt," said
Uncle Peubody.
Down crashed the stick of wood
Into the box.
“What about?”
“It would be like him to put the
screws on you now. * You've got be-
remember the curious notion~camo to
me that he looked like our old ram.
He wore a thin, gray beard under his
chin. His month was shut tight In
a long Hue curving downward a lit
tle at the ends. My uncle used to
say that his mouth was made to keep
his thoughts from leaking and going
frame building, hard by the mala
road, with a narrow hanging stair on
the side of It.
“She keeps watch b£ the. winder
when she ain't travelin',” suld Uncle
Peabody. ' “Knows alt that's gain’
on—that woman—knows who goes to
the village an' how long they stay.
with a look of resolution la her pret-
t face and said:
“rni not afraid of him."
We kissed each other and, again,
that well-remembered touch of her
hair upon my face! But the feel of
*?, " raste ‘. bad * b, 8 body. * bl *! When Grlmsnnw goes by they say she
enut, a big mouth, a big nose and j hustles off down the road In her rags.
PJErf 1 }” and ba , nd8 ' His eyes lay she looks like a sick dog herself, but
“E " ,, “1““* ? f bl * n “ 8 ' I I've heard that she keeps that room
y, Mr. Grimshaw, It a years 0 * hero Jost as neat as a pin.'
slqce you've been In our honse—
ayes I" said Aunt Deel.
“I suppose It Is,” he answered rath
er sharply. “I don't have much time
to get around. I have to work.
There's some people seem to be able
to git alonjt without it I see you’ve
got one o' these newfangled stoves,”
S e added as he looked It over. “Huh I
:lch folks can have anything they
want”
Uncle Peabody had sat splintering
the long stick of yellow birch. I ob
served that tne jackknife trembled In
bis hand. His tone had a touch of
unnaturalness, proceeding no donbt
from his fear of the man before him.
as he said:
“When I bought that stove I felt
richer than I do now. I had almost
Near the village we passed a smart
looking buggy, drawn by a spry-foot
ed torse In shiny harness. Then I
noticed with a pang that our wagon
was covered with dry mud and that
our horses were rather bony and our
harness a kind of lead color. So I
was In on humble state of mind when
we entered the village.
There was a crowd of men and
women in front of Mr. Wright's offlre
and through its open door I saw many
of his fellow townsmen. We waited at
the.door for a few minutes. I crowded
In while Uncle Peabody stood talk
ing to a villager. The Senator caught
sight of me and'eame to my elde and
put Ills band on my head and said:
‘Hello, Burt I How you've grown
enough to settle with you up to date, bow handsome you look! Where's
but I signed a note for a friend and yonr unc * e ?"
til*'* , a V nt V° a * . The ! tween"him in'"hU p'roy.* You've taken
' * a ,. b ° c “ y ^ ew ^ or ’ f bn< t | the mouse nwuy from the cat'
suspended payment of their notes. , mui . mber the uttle pnnlc that
They could no longer meet their en-| fe „ otl 0H then . i eould see tears
A* ««unl. theburdeni fellj m th „ ,.y e * „f Aunt Deel as she sat
with her beud leaning wearily on her
heaviest on the poor. It wns hard to
g"t money even for black salts.
Uncle Peabody had been silent and
depressed for u month or more. He
had signed a note for Rodney Barnes,
a cousin, long before and was afraid
hand.
“If he docs I’ll do all I can,” said
Barnes, “whatever I’ve got will be
yours.''
Rodney Barnes left us, nnd I re-
3rd Crawley Caught
In Slacker, Roundup
BLAIRSVILLB, Oa , Jan. 14.—(By
Associated Press.)—Gordon Bowers,
kinsman of George Crawley, who Is
being sought as'the slayer of Deputy
Marshal Dixon, was arrested today by
soldiers engaged In rounding up de
serters, slackers and moonshiners now
hiding in the mountains of North
Georgia. Thle Is the third arrest,
i two brothers of George Crawley hav
ing been caught yesterday.
led her toward my uncle. We stood
that he would have to pay It. I didn’t member how Uncle Peabody stood la
know whnt a note was and I remem- the middle of the floor and whistled
her that one night, when I lay think-, the merriest tune he knew.
Ing about It, I decided that it must “Stand right up here,” he called In
be something In the nature of horse j his most cheerful tone. “Stand right
colic. My uncle told me that a note up here before me, both o' ye.”
wns a trouble which attacked the I gut Aunt Deel by the hand and
brain Instead of the stomach.
Oqe autumn day In Canton Uncle
Penbody traded three sheep and twen
ty hasheis of wheat for a cook stove-
and brought It home In the big wagon, j
Rodney Barnes came with him to help!
set up the stove. He was a big glnnt j
of a man with the longest nose In the j
township. I have often wondered how
nny one would solve the problem of
kissing Mr. Barnes In the Immediate*
region of his nose, the same being In'
the nature of a defense.
That evening I wns chiefly Inter
ested lu the stove. What a Joy It!
wns to me with Its damper and grid- 1
dies and high oven and the shiny edge
on Its hearth! It rivaled, In Its nov-j
elty nnd charm, any tin peddler’s cart!
that ever came to onr door. John*
Axtell and hla wife, who had seen It!
pass their bouse, hurried over for a'
look at It Every hand wns on the
stove as we tenderly carried It Into
the house, piece By piece, and set It
up. Then they cut a hole In the up-!
per floor and (he stone chimney and'
fitted the pipe. How keenly we
watched the building of the fire. How!
quickly it roared and began to heat
the room t
When the Axtells had gone away
Aunt Deel said:
“IPs grand! It Is sartln—but Pm,
'frald we can't afford It—ayes I be!'
had to pay it.'
“Ayuh! I suppose so.*’ Grimshaw
answered in a tone of bitter Irony
which cut me like a knife-blade, vqm^-
as I was. “What business have you
signin’ notes an' glvln' away money
which ain't yours to give—I'd like to
know? What business have you actin’
like a rich man when you can't puy
yer honest debts? I'd like to know
that, too?”.
“If I've ever acted like-a rich man I
I’m Not Afraid of Him.
“He's there by the door," I
swered.
“Well, le's go nnd see him."
Mr. .Wright was stouter and grayer
and grander than when I had seenI
him last He was dressed In black j
broadcloth nnj wore a big beaver hat ho .
and hlgl. collar and his hair was si-1 7 ”7 thnt was
most white. I remember vividly his: f” inn h
clear, kindly, gray eyes and roddy fo,,ow «‘l
cheeks Fast nows tne river to the sea when
“Baynes, I'm glad to see you,” ho ! . , h °“ tb /hey b »d
n S | bCe p h hC i n 1 Wa ' n t l00k ‘ n ’" “ ,d u”“eXratf “ DW 78 br ‘ ng me a “ 7 | » b « 8 ">« current-those U d C ear°ktad n |£
“What business have you to go cn-1 “Didn’t think of It." said Unde ta^e^nsTas'thelr'tati^ter"^
2ft to ye t r J a Z y -£Z
spin for? That costs money. I wont l erb f 1X bring ye down some to-mor- j obsorved satisfaction that
to tell you one thing, Baynes, you’ve «r. ; _ I the village boys did not make fan
got to pay up or git out o’ here.” | I’d like to take some to Washing- ot me when , p. lgsed them M thoy d|(j
He raised his cane and shook It In J® 0 * bat * wouldn t have you bring wheD ( WOIe the petite, trousers.
“One, Two, Three, Ready—Sing.”
longer TlSfun mv facla * h, “' “ staad "tralghter.” he
1 “ ade p . rar mlad ,ba f wa , demanded. “Now, altogether. One,
couldn't go through another winter ■ '
as wo have,” was ray uncle's answer.
“How mnch dl«f It cost!" she asked.
“Not mnch dlffer'nt from thirty-
four dollars lu sheep and grain,” he
answered.
Rodney Barnes stayed to suppitr.
demanded. "Now, altogether,
two, three, ready—sing.”
lie beat time with'his hand la imi
tation of the singing master at the
sehnnlhouse and we Joined him ID
singing un old tune which began: “Ob,
keep my heart from sadness, God.”
This Irresistible spirit of the man
TO
THE
PUBLIC!
We do not believe It would bo possi
ble for us to bottle and sell ONE HUN
DRED AND FIFTY GALLON'S of Nx
101 Tonic per day if It was not au ef
fectlve treatment for influenza.
A man who works a large force of
ten came to our office several days ago
and told us he had twenty-five men
taken with this malady In one day. He
Immediately distributed au ample sup
ply ot No. 101 Tonic araonc them and
there was not a fatality In the twenty-
five.
The formula by which this Tonic Is
made Is given to the public, so It can
not be listed as a secret nostrum. It
contains Iron, which is for tho blood:
Quinine, which Is deadly to the Influ
enza germ and Magnesia, which thor
oughly opens the bowels. Sold
throughout the South by wholesale and
retail druggists and drug dealers.
THE E. 1. WILLIAMS CD.
QUITMAN, GA.
and spent a part of tho evening with br | ll!!ed n bnd hour nnd got us ott
Like other settler, there. Mr. , ° A b8 li n J"^ 7 . f '" ndl0a “'^V
Barnes wns a cheerful optimist. Every- du > . .. n U . n „ r < 'i n , '5 , Qotc cn , m .?
thlmr Innknl mvwt tn him tmMI I, 1 dUe and 1,8 ° Wnor Insisted upon full
‘‘payment- There was such u clamor for
tota h„» h» h.. h. . J moap y "><** doj"*! I remember that
J nheard ‘hat It, ,„ y nunt had slxty dl ,| lars wh|( . h k)|e
I™* TV* 6 * rent , b «d saved, little by little, by selling
water highway of tho St. Lawrence.! e( , K „ „ nd chickens. She had planned
Prosperous towns were bonding up t(1 U3e It to bu n , omb8t0 ne for her
rn .Tb" 8 "ere going to be great I11()tbl . r and f u , he r_u long-cherlshed
2“ '? h Nor . lh p Crn J° rk ' , TI ! cr0 ambition. My uncle needed the most
at 5? n lead h ,r ?" ot “ help pay the note. We drove
n the rocks .Mr. Barnes had bought | p^dum oa that su.l errand and
the air as he spoke.
“Oh, I ain’t no doubt o' that,” said
Uncle Peabody. “You'll have to have
yer money—tbit's sure; an' you will
have i* -If I live, every cent of 1L
This boy Is goto’ to be a great help
to me—you don’t- know what a good
boy he is and what a comfort he’s
been to us I 1
These words of my beloved uncle
uncovered my emotions so that I put
my elbow on the wood-box and leaned
my-head upon It and sobbed.
“I ain't goln’ to be hard on ye,
Bayoes,” said Mr. Grimshaw as be
rose from his chair; “I’ll give ye
three months to see what you can do.
I wouldn't wonder If the boy would
turn out all right He’s big an’ cordy
of his agqand a party likely boy, they
tell me.”
Mr. Grimshaw opened the door and
stood for a moment looking at us and
added In a milder tone: “You've got
one o' the best farms In this town an'
if ye work hard ah' use common
sense ye ought to be oat o’ debt In
five years—mebbe less.”
He closed the door and went away.
Neither of us moved or spoko oa we
listened to big footsteps oa the gravel
path that went down to the road and
to the sound of his buggy as he drove
If an /na“ I ""™ * “fie pCttlCOBt tTOUSerS.
a,,.,.' . . . ' ! Mr. and Mrs. Wright came aloag with
Id like to bring It I want a tBe crowd, by and by. and colonel
chance to talk with ye for half an Medad Moody. We bad supper with
hour or such a matter." said my un- the Scnator oa the 8Pat with ns. He
cle. I ve got a little trouble on my nnd roy nnc | e bcgan to talk about the
a *" d " _ ....... 1 tightness of money and the banking
The Senator took ns Into his offlee taW8 and , relIlelnb c r a remark of
and Introduced ns to the leading men my nnc | e , for there was that In his
, eaunt 7 1 — ■ i tone which I could never forget:
Here, said che Senator as he p*it “We poor people are trusting yon
his hand on my head, “is a coming to look out for us—we poor people
man In the Democratic party.” | are trusting yon to see that we get
The great men laughed at my treated fair. We’re havin’ a hard
blushes and we came away with *: time.”
deep sense of pride In us. At last 1 i My uncle told him about the noj|
felt equal to the ordeal of meeting and the visit of Mr. Grimshaw and'of
the Dunkelbcrgs. My uncle must have his threats and upbreldlngs.
shared my feeling, for, to my delight. “Did he say that In Bart’s hearingr
he went straight to the basement asked the Senator,
store above which was the modest; “Ayes I—right out plain.”
sign: “H. Dunkelberg, Produce." j -Too bad! Tm going to tel! you
“Well I swan!" said the merchant, frankly, Baynes, that the best thing
In the treble voice which I remem- I know about yon Is your conduct to-
bered so welL “This Is Bart and Pea- ward this boy. I like It The next
body! Hpw are yoal" i best thing is the fact that you signed'
“Pretty well,” I answered, ifly ua- the note. It was bad business but!
cle being too slow of speech to suit It was good Christian conduct to help'
your friend. Don't regret It You
were poor and of an age when the
boy's pranks were troublesome to both
of you, but you took him In. TU
lead you the Interest and try to get
another holder for the mortgage on
two hundred ncres at ten dollars an
_ . . • . | what n time we had getting there
acre. He had to pay a fee of five and back dw , p mud um] 8and and
per cent, to Grimshaw s lawyer for jolting over corduroys I
“Bart,” my uncle said the next
evening, as I took down the book to
read. “I guess we'd better talk
things over u little tdnight. These
are hard times. If we can find hny-
hody with money enough to buy 'em
I dunno but we better sell the
sheep.”
“If you hadn’t been a fool,” my
nunt exclaimed with a look of great
distress—“ayes! If you hadn't been
a fool.”
“I’m Just what, I be, an’ I ain’t so
big a fool that I need to be reminded
of It," said my ancle.
“J’ll stay home pu’ work," I pro
posed bravely.
“You uln’t old enough for that,”
sighed Aunt Deel.
“I want to keep you in school,” said
Uncle Penbody, who sat making a
splint broom.
While we were talking In walked
Benjamin Grimshaw—the rich roun of
the hills. He didn't stop to knock,
but walked right In as It the house
were his own. It was common gos
sip that he held a mortgage on every
acre of the countryside. I had never
liked him, for he was a stern-eyed
man who was always scolding some
body, and I had not forgotten what his
son had said of him.
"Good night!” he exclalnjed curtly,
ns lie sat down and set his cone be
tween his feet and rested his hands
the survey and the papers. This left
him owing fourteen hundred dollars
on his farm—much more than It was
worth.
Oar coasla twisted the poker In
his great hands until It squeaked as
he stood before my uncle and said:
“My wife and I hate chopped and
burnt nnd pried and hauled rocks an'
shoveled dung an' milked an' churned
until we are worn out. For almost
twenty years we’ve been workln’ days
an’ nights an’ Sundays. My mortgage
was over-due, I owed six hundred dol
lars on it I thought It all over one
day an' went up to Grimshaw’s an’
took him by the back of the neck
and shook him. He said he would
drive me out o’ the country. He
gave me six months to pay up. I had
to pay or lose the land. I got the
money on the note that you signed
over In Potsdam. Nobody In Can-)
ton would 'a' dured to lend It to
me.”
“Why?" my uncle asked.
“’Frald o’ Orimshnw.' He didn’t
want me to be able to pay It. The
place Is worth more than six hundred
dollars now—that’s the reason. I In
tended to cut some timber un' haul
It to the village this winter so I could
pay a part o' the note an’ git more
time as I told ye, but the roails have
been so bad I couldn't do any haul
in’.”
my sense of propriety. “How Is Sal
ly!"
The two men laughed heartily, much
to my embarrassment.
“He’s getting right down to bust-
„ , Bess,” said my uncle. „„
away. Then Uncle Peabody broke! “That’s right,” sold Mr. Daakelberg. 1 one condition. Yon must let me at-
the silence by saying: I “Why, Bart, she’a spry as a cricket! tend to Bart’s schooling. I want to
“He's the dam'dcst—'" | and pretty as a picture. Come up to be boss about that. We have a great
He stopped, set the half-splintered dinner with mo and see for yourself." schoolmaster In Canton and when Bart
stick aside, closed bis Jackknlfo and { Uncle Peabody hesitated, whereupon' la a Uttle older I want him to go
went to the water-pall to cool his I gave him a furtive nod and he said j there to school. I’ll try to find him
emotions with a drink. I “AU right,” and then I had a dell- a Place where be can work for hla
Aunt Deel took np the subject where clous feeling of excitement Pbod! board.”
be had dropped It, an If no-half-cx- hard work to control my Impatience 1 “We’ll miss Bart but well be tickled
pressed sentiment would satisfy her, when they talked.’ I to death—there’s no two ways about
saying: nnd by I asked, “Are you ’most! tbat '" “I* 1 U n<,le Peabody.
“—old skinflint tbat ever Uved In' ready to go?” i The Scrator tested my arithmetic
this world, ayes! I ain't goln’ to! “Yes—come on—It’s after twelve and Bcammar nnd geography as we
hold my opinion o’ that man no' o'clock," said Mr. Dnnlrethcrg “Sally rode a l° n * ,D the darkness and said
longer, ayes! I ’cun't. It's too pow- will bo back from school now.”
er (“ l ~ n,e * r j So we walked to the big boose of
Having recovered my composure I the Dunkelbergs nnd I could hear my
repeated that I should like to give up) heart beating when we turned In at
School and stay at homo and work. the gnte-the golden gate of my youth
Aunt Dec' Interrupted me by say-] It must hnvc boon, for after I had
*“*• . ., passed It I thooght no more as n child.
I have an Idee thut Sile Wright, That rude push which Mr. Grimshaw
in . I,.,- *- 1 gave me had hurried the passing.
I was a Uttle surprised at ray own
dignity when Sally opened tho door
to welcome us. My uncle told Aunt
Deel that I acted and spoke like Silas
Wright, “so nice and proper." Sally
will help ns—ayes! He's cornin' home
pn' you better go down un' see him—
lyes I Hadn't ye?"
“Bart an’ m go down to-morrer,”
said Uncle Peabody.
Some fourteen months before that
by and by:
“You'll have to work hard, Bart.
You’ll have to take your book Into
the field ns I did. After every row
of corn I learned a rule of syntax or
arithmetic or a fact In geography while
I rested, and my thought and memory
took hold of It as I plied the hoe. I
don't want you to step the reading,
but from now on you must spend half
of every evening on your lessons.”
As I was going to bed the Senator
called me to him and said:
“I shall be gone when yon are up
In the morning. It may be a long
time before I see you; I shall leave
something for you in a sealed envel
ope with your name on It- You are
□ot to open the envelope until you
go away to school. I know how yon
day my uncle had taken mo to Pots- wns different, toe—less playful and
dam and traded grata und salts for] more beautiful with long yellow curls
what be called a "rip roarin' fine suit covering her shoulders,
o' clothes” with boots und cup and: "How nice yon look!" she said ns
shirt nnd collar and necktie to' match, j she took my arm and led me Into her
I having earned them by sawing und: playroom. i
cording wood at three shillings a] "These are my new clothe*” 11 wl “ fec * ' hat flrst day ' wben nlKht
cord. How often we looked buck to! bonsted. "They nre vorv ernen.i.e falls ycD wm tblnlt of your hunt and
those better days! The clothes had] and I have to be careful of them” uncle and be vcry loneIy ' wb, ‘ n you
been too big for me and I had had to i behaved mvself with *° to your tnr ' b « night I want
wait until m y growth had taken up I nt tbo tabTe-Tremember taat-Tn™
the slack In my coat and trousers j a ft er dinner, we played In the door-
before I could venture, out of tipi yB rd and the stable I with a wont
neighborhood. I had tried them on ^r of tearing my ’ new ctaLf
8 T 7 lon 1“ m . e ' No " «nd cautioned her more tann
My ancle went and took a drink at upon it. He spoke hoarsely and I
tay statute filled them handsomely
and they filled me with a pride and
saIsfa>.tlou which I bad never known
before. .
"Now may the Lord help ye to be
careful—awful, terrible careful o’
them clothes every mlnnte o' this!
duy,” Aunt Deol cautioned as she
looked at me. “Don't git no horse
sweat nor wugon grease on 'em."
To Aunt Deel wagon grease wus
the worst enemy of a happy and re
spectable home.
We hitched onr team to the grass
hopper spring wagon and set ont on
our Journey. It was a warm, busy
Indlan-summer day to November. As
we passed “the mill" we saw the Si
lent Woman looking ont of the little
oned: "Be careful! For gracious
sake I be careful o' my new suit I”
As we were leaving late In tho af
ternoon she said:
"I wish yon would come hero to
school.”
"I suppose he will some time,” said
Uncle Penbody.
A new hope entered my breast, that
moment, nnd began to grow there.
“Aren't yon going to kiss her?” sold
Mr. Dunkelberg with a smile.
I saw the color Id her cheeks deep
en os she turned with a smile end
walked away two or three steps while
the grown people langhed, and stood
with her back tamed looking In at
tho window.
, . | “Yon’re looking tho wrona way for
wlad ®' T ® f ber room aboTe * be black- the scenery," said Mr. Dunkelberg.
smith shop^-a low, weather-stained, She turned and walked toward mo
yon to sit down all by yourself and
open the envelope and read what I
shall write. They will be, I think, tho
most Impressive words yon ever read.
Yon will think them over bnt yon
will not understand them for a long
time. Ask every wise man yon meet
to explain them to yon, for all your
happiness will depend upon your un
derstanding of those few words In the
envelope.”
In the morning Aunt Deel pot It
in my hands. :
"I wonder whnt In the world hjjk.
wrote there—ayes!” sold she. “Wo
must keep-It careful—ayes!—HI pat
It In my trunk an’ give It to ye wben
ye go to Canton to school.”
“Has Mr. Wright goner I asked
rather, sadly.
“Ayesl Land o’ mercy I He went
away long before daylight with a lot
o’ Jerked meat tn a pack basket—
ayes! Yer uncle la goln* down to the
village to see tout the mortgage this
afternoon, ayes I”
It wu a Saturday anj .1 spent Its