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Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, January 17, 1868, Image 1

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BARTON, VERMONT FRIDAY, JANUARY 17, 1868.
WHOLE NUMBER G27.
voLtnvrE 13-mnsmEE 3.
k
" ' . - ; . ,.,.::,!.;:.;.. s i , . ' . ...... ' : : . ...... i ! r i- . ' Tit:- .- v (-. 1 ;a
B J SjN E SSD I RECTORY.
L. II. UiSUEE,
AIlOltNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW
SBWPOKT, VKHMUM1.
Special mention paid to the collection of H
jUiiuj itinni the ifuyeromeut. .
J. T. ali; tAW
AirOftNBY AND COUNSKLLOE AT LAW.
N1WI-UBT. VKUMUMT.
CJI 1. VAIL,
WiOASHW PENSION 4 BOUNTY AGENT .
la.HlUUH, TattMOWT.
U VLfc Ai KOUl-NSU-M,
ATTORNEYS AN D OOUNSELLuES AT LAW
UKHHT LINE A.1) BAMTO, VT.
OBO.N.OAtB. J. B. KOBISbON.
Pensions, bounties and all Miiitarj Claiiufnn
curt'ti. vrroitSEY AND
CoUNSELL K AT LAW
AN L) CLAIM AUENT.
BAkTON, VERMONT.
Will ittend the CiMtrtu in Orlim and Caledonw
'.Twmi' ie.
A H I; K L SlA.r'OKU,
DEALER IN PLOWS, TIN WAKE, FLO UK.
IRASBUROtt, TBBMOBT.
Also Uor-teg lo let at all times, and general job
ami team work dune. 8 .tibfaction ttiven.
K. E. UASt
WAT3U MAKER AND JEWELLER.
BAKTOM, TUMOST.
Dealer in Clocks, Watches, Jewelry, Silver and
PatciJ Wnre.
J. S. WEUS1EII,
PHOTOGRAPHER.
BARTON, VERMONT.
Also A pent for Vermont Mutual Fire Insur
ance CompHtiy.
ilALL At JOSLVN,
DEALERS IN DKY GOuDS, W. I. GOODS.&c.
BARTON, VERMONT.
A good assortment of Hardware, Hats, Caps,
Boots, Shoes, Flouri Salt, Nails, Clothing, &c
Apothecaries and Wholesale Druggists.
BARTON, VERMONT.
11. 11. LH lLt,
PROPRIETOR OF THE BARTON HOTEL.
BARTON, VERMONT.
This House is within fiv ods of the depot.
The Stages all stop at this House. Also a good
Livery in connection with the same.
U. HllllfAKI),
HOUSE, SIGN AND CARRIAGE PAINTER.
BARTON, VERMONT.
Imitator of Wood and Marble, Paper Hanger,
Glazier, &c.
II. !S. H1CKKOUI),
CARRIAGE MAKER AND REPAIRER.
BARTON, VERMONT.
Good work and ready pay. Always at home.
J. E. UtVLMELL,
FURNITURE DEALER AND REPAIRER.
OLOVEK, VERMONT.
Best of Furniture always kept. Sofas, Loun
gex, Curtain Fixtures, Bureaus, Bedsteads, Mir
ors, Picture Frames, Stuffed, Cane and Wood
seat Chairs, Tables, Cribs, Cabs, Cassino's Spring
Mattrasses. Also Collins, Caskets. Furniture re
paired. A. Kuud assorlmeut of wool, oil anO
hemp carpels, room paper, oak chamber setts,
Furniture repaired auU made a. good as new.
t:. It. lKtfti Ac CO.,
FURNITURE DEALERS.
NBWPORT, VERMONT.
A good supply of Stoves, Crockery, Tin and
Hollow Ware alway s on lininl. Also Cnets.
' S M. i'llClltlt,
HORSE TRAINER,
WEST ALBANY, VEKMONT,
Will receive hones and colts at his stable it
West Albany, and every attention will be givei.
litem. He has had a lite-long experience in
training u ises tor the turt, saddle, and Uarues,
aii.l all who entrust their horses aud colls wuli
linn can rel assumed lhal he will give iheni hit
e irnest care and attention. 4otf
M. U. SAKhLA 1,
iNUFACrUltttlt Of UOOl'S AND SHOE?.
NtWHUttT, VERMONT
He m iko the besl article of hoots and oboe.- ii
he county. Best mati-rial used and first clat-t-Workmen
employed. ti
. O. lltAil t.,
ATTDIIVBY A f LA W, SOLIC ITOR IN
CillNCERY, AND CLAIM AGENT,
N&vVI-Oar, VbttMONI. OUtl
H. J. ItLAcK,
LICENSED AUCTlUiNEER.
Nkwpokt. Vkhmont.
J. N. tUSl Lit,
AOb.NT KoK
VERMONT MUTUAL FIKE INS. COMPANY
BARTON, EKMONT.
J. II. HALL,
DRUGGIST AND BOOKSELLER.
NEWPORT, VERMONT.
Also Dealer iu Artist Materials, Gold and Sil
ver Leaf, Fancy Goods. Papers and Magazines
furnished at publisher's rates. Store No. 2 Co
burn Block.
L. t EDGfcHTON,
PROPRIETOR OF IRASBURGH HOUSE.
IKASBLROU, VT.
Stages leave this House daily for Railway Sta
tions. Glt.VNUEY, SKlNMElt At I'AKKflK,
dealers in
GROCERIES & GENERAL HARDWARE.
BARTON LANDING, VERMONT,
Agents for Nails, Plows, STOVE8,&c.,at Whole
sale and Retail. 21
LANE, ADAMS & CO.,
GENERAL COMMISSION MERCHANTS,
and wholesale dealers in
tLOiR, Butter, Cheese, Eggs, Beans and
ALL KINDS OF COUNTRY PRODUCE.
Liberal Cash Advances made on Consignments.
69 Main Street, Springfield, Mass.
H. B. LANE. O. D. ADAMS. O. K. SMITH.
References: Ballou& Uibbard, Boston, Crook,
Palmer & Co., Albany, Henry Lansing, AI
21 bany, Aguwam National Bank, Springfield.
A. M. RUCJGLES, M. D.,
II O M 03 O P A T II I S T ,
25 BARTON, VERMONT.
II. P. BALL AH I) & Co.,
PRODUCE COMMISSION MERCHANT8.
For the sule of Butter, Cheese, Lard, Tallow,
Jggs, Beans, Peas, Flour, Urain, Hops, Wool,
Poultry, Game, Venison, Green and Dried
F'ruits, Cotton, Tobacco and all kinds of
Country Produce.
332 Washington St., New York.
Also Aaents for the Great United States TEA
WAREHOUSE. All orders promptly attended to
References: North River Bank, N. Y. City; Da
vid Muir, i Broadway, N. Y. ; Ballard & Bro ,
Richmond, Va.; D. O. McCotter, 141 Broad
way,;..; hunthij Maynard. 15 Courtland
St., N. Y.j U L.Smison, 186 Washington St.,
i.; i. v uueuoue, 40 Uourlland til., a
Y ; D. S. Havens, Southampton, L. 1.
COFFLNS AiVD CASKETS.
A1
N excellent assortment of Coffins aud Cas
kets always kept on hand aud furnished to
order with appropriate trimmings, aud at short
notice by
E. D. THL'E & CO.
Newport, Jan. 25, 1807.
COOKING STOVES.
(JOOU Sam iriu.i. Stewart, Soup Stone, Parlor.
I Oihoe, au.i other Stoves, always on hand.
Our Mock is much the largest to be lound in tin
county. We can uutWrM:i competitors in
this branch ot trade. See it we cnii'i
E. I. TKt fc.' & CO.
Newport, Jan. 25, 1HK7.
MELODEON FOR SALE.
AS t intend going Wett in the Spring 1 1 ttW
tor Mile nve ocu.ve Melodcoii with Walnut
la-e, which cot nineiy dollar. Ii has not bail
to the nm.iuntot' three months u. , It m ill be
i.iucueap, and i-au Keu , lUt) Uou.-e of Lu
ther Heinlrix in WesttKld. For further infoi ma
tiou audi erf
VIOLA G.
187-49ir
Wottield, Dec. 6
STEVENS.
SINKS; SAP PANS.
A
ND Arch Mouths, also Tin. JiMi.ucd nd
Hollow Ware, tor vale by
H. O. WHITCHER.
Barton, Oct. 25.
U' ANTED. A siiuition iu a Cou'itrv Store,
- by a young man. Good releren. es.
' Address, "C," Box 13, West Burke, Yt.
West Burke, Jan. 10, 186 2tf ' !
tU .... & j j .; . j V ". U . . I
From the Atlantic Monthly.
In the Gray Goth.
If the wick of the biz oil lamp had
been cut straight, I don't believe it
would ever have happened.
Where is the poker, Johnny?
Can't you push back that for'ard lo?
a little? Dear, dear! Well, it
doesn't make much difference, does
it? Something alwavs seems to ail
tr v s . 1 I I
your Massachusetts nres; your iuck-
ory is srreen, and your rr.aple is knar-
Iv, and the worms eat out your oak
like a sponge. I haven't seen any
thing like what I call a fire, not
sine Mary Ann was married, and 1
. A
t ame here to stay, "ai long as )uu
live, father," she said ; and in that
very letter she told me I should al
ways have an open fire, and how she
wouldn't let Jacob put in the air tijzht
in the sitting-room but had the fire
place kept on purpose. Mary Ann
was a good girl always, if I remem
ber straight, a:id I'm sure I don't com
plain. Isn't that a pine knot at the
bottom of the basket ? There 1 that's
better.
Let me see; I began to tell you
something, didn't I ? O yes ; about
that winter of '41. I remember now.
I declare, I can't get over it, to think
you never heard about it, and you
twenty-four years old come Christ
mas. You don't know much more,
either, about Maine folks and Maine
fashions than you do about China,
though it's small wonder, for the mat
ter of that, you were such a little
shaver when Uncle Jed took you.
There were a great many of us, it
seems to me, that year, I 'most forgot
how many ; we buried the twins
next summer, didn't we ? then there
was Mary Ann, and little Nany, and
well, coffee was dearer than ever
I'd seen it, I know, a'out that time
and butter selling for nothing; we
just threw our milk away, and there
wasn't any market for eggs ; besides
doctor's bills, and Isaac to be sent to
school : so it seemed to be the best
thing, though your mother took on
pretty badly about it at first. Jed-
ediah has been good to you, I'n ? ,
and brought you up religious,
though you've cost him a sight, spend
ing three hundred and fifty dollars a
year at Amherst College.
But, as I was going to say, when I
.started to talk about '41 to tell the
truth, J-jhnnj, I'm alwavs a Ion
...i.;t - : x i r. t.
w urn,- uuuiiti", iu u, i oeneve. im
reltins to be an old man. a h'ttlc
f a coward, maybe, and sometimes,
when I sit alone here nights, and think
it over, it's just like the toothache,
Johnny. As I was saying, if she had
cut that wick straight, I do believe it
wouldn't have happened, though it
isn't that I mean to lay the blame on
Iter now.
I'd been out at work all day about
the place, slicking things up lor to
morrow; there was a gap iu the barn
ard fence to meud, I left that till
i he last thing, I remember, I remem
ber everything,- some way or other,
that happened that day, and there
was a new roof to put on the pig
pen, and the grape-vine needed an ex
tra layer of straw, and the latclas
loose on the south baru door; then
1 had to go round and take a 'last
look at the sheep, and toss down "an
extra forkful for the cows, and go uKo
the stall to have a talk with Ben, anj
unbutton the coop door to see if the
nens looseo warm, just, io iuck env
up, as vou might say. I always feu
sort of homesick though I wouldn't
have owned ud to it. not even to Nan.w0rKea aUout Uiat laUP wlck a"a
cy saying gocd to the creturs the
night before 1 went in. There, now 1
it beats all, to think vou dou't know
what I'm talking about, and you
lumberman's son. "Going in" is go
ing up into the woods, you know, to
cut and haul for winter, up, some
times, a hu&dred miles deep, in, in
the fall and out in the spring; whole
gangs of us shut up there sometimes
for six months, then down with the
freshets on the logs, and all summer
to work the farm, a merry sort of
life when you get used to it, Johnny ;
but it was a great while ago, and it
seems to me, as if it must have been
very cold. Isn't there a little draft
coming in at the pantry door ?
So when I'd said good by to the
creturs, I remember just as plain
how Ben put his great neck on my
shoulder and whined like a baby,-
that horse knew when the- season
came round and I was going in, just
as well as did, I tinkered up the
barnyard fence, and locked the doors,
and went in to supper.
I gave my finger a knock with the
hammer, wnich may have had some
thing to do with it, for a man doesn't
feel very good natured when he's been
green enough to do a thing like that,
Handheuoesnt use 10 say 11 acnes
1-1 A - ?A.
either. But if there is anything I
ean't bcar.it is lamp-smoke; it1 al
ways did put me out, and I expect it
always will: Nancy knew what a
fuss I made about it, and she was al
ways very careful not to hector me
with it. I ought to have remember
ed that, but I didn't. She had light'
ed the company lamp on purpose, too,
because it way my last night. I liked
it better than the tallow candle.
So I came in, stamping' off the
"ow, and they Were : all in there
about the fire, the twius, and Mary
Ann, aud -the rest; baby was sick,
and Nancy walking back and forth
with him. with little- Nancy pulling at
her gown. You were the baby then,
1 believe, Johuny ; but there always
was a baby, aud I dou't rightly re
member. The room ; was so black
with smoke, that they all looked as
if they were swimming 'rouud and
roand in it. ' I guess coining in from
i
the cold, and the pain in my finger
and all, it made me a bit sick. At
any rate I threw open the window
and blew out the lights, as mad as a
hornet.'
"Nancy," said I, "this room would
rangle a dog, and you might have
known it. if you d had two eyes to
see what you were about..There, now 1
I ve tipped the lamp over, and you
just get a cloth and wipe up the oil.
"Dear ; me I" said she, lighting a
candle and she spoke up very soft,
too. "Please, Aaron,don't let the
cold on baby. I'm sorry it was smok
ing, bat I never knew a thing about
it ; he's been fretting and taking on so
the
last
hour, I didn't notice any-
wav.
"That's just what you ought to have
done," says I, madder than ever.
"You know I hate the stuff and you
ought to have cared more about me
than to choke me up with it this way
the last night before going in."
Nancy was a patient, gentle-spoken
sort of woman, and would bear a good
deal from a fellow; but she used to
fire sometimes, and that was more
than she could stand. "You don't
deserve to be cared about, for speak
ing like that!" says she, with her
cheeks as red as peat-coals.
That was right before the children.
Mary Ann's eye were as big as sau
cers, and little Nancy was crying at
the top of her lungs, with the baby
tuning in, so we knew it was time to
stop. But stopping wasn't ending;
and folks can look things that they
don't say.
We sat down to supper as glum as
pump handles ; there were some frit
ters I never knew anybody to beat
your mother at fritters smoking hot
off the stove, and some maple' molas
ses in one of the best china teacups
I knew well enough it was just on pur
pose for my last night, but I never had
a word to say, and Naucy crumbled
up the children s bread with a jerk
Her cheeks didn't grow any whiter;
it seemed as if they would blaze right
up, I couldn't help looking at them,
for all I pretended not to, for she
looked just like a pictur. Some wo
meii always are pretty when they u.re
put out, and then again, some ain't ;
it appears to me there's a great diff
erence in women, very much as there
is in hens; now, there was your aunt
Deborah, but there, I won't get on
that track now, only so far as to say
that when she was flustered up she
used tofiort-J nil over, something like
a piny, which didn't oeem to have just
the same effect.
. That supper was a very dreary sort
of supper, with the baby crying, and
Nancy getting up betweeu the mouth
luls to walk up and down thi room
with him; he was a heavy little chap
for a ten-tnouth old, and I think she
must have been tuckered out with him
all day. I didn't think about it then ;
a man doesn't notice such things when
he's angry ; it isn't iu him. I can't
say but she woui if I'd beeu in her
place. I just eat up the fritters and
the maple molasses, seems to me 1
told her she ought not to use the besl
chiuy cup, but I'm not just sure, and
then I took my pipe and sat down in
tl6 jonicr.
1 watched her tittJtg the children
to'bed; thev made Jrer a great deal
oi Biyner, squ
audyruuiiing rc
i rmi n 77i? ot aer lap
w m mi
round Inrefoot. Some-
time,
used to hold piem and talk to
'iheuranjd help her a bit. whn I feJt
good nfutured, but 1 just sat aud snio
ked, an let them alone. I was all"
1 -ou see, if she hadn't ha
.u v teeuegs ioi me mere was no nee
wo' my havingany for her if she had
ncut the wick, l'd have taken the ba-
i .....
bies; she hadn'tcut the wick, and I
wouldu't take the babies: she might
see it if she wat tejr'to, and think what
he pleased
IlTad been badly treat-
u,'aua i meant
i w i r
Ko show it
M is strange, Johnny, it really does
secern to me very y(a"ge, how easy it
is in this worlditfbe alwaysfuking
&re of our right. I've thought a
great deal about it since I've beeu
growing old, and there seems to me
a good many things we'd better look
after fust.
But you see I hadn't found that out
in '41, and so I sat in the corner, and
felt very much abused. I can't say
but what Nancy had pretty much the
same idea; for when the young ones
were all in bed at last, she took her
knitting and sat down the other side
of the tire, sort of turning her head
round and looking up at the ceiling,
as she were trying her best to forget I
was there. That was a way she had
when I was courting, and we went
along to huskiags together, with the
moon shining round.
Well, I kept on smoking, and she
kept- on looking at the ceiling, and no
body said a word for a while, till by
and by the fire burnt down, aud she
got up and put on afresh log.
" You're dreadful wasteful with the
wood, Nancy," says I, bound . to say
something cross, and that was all I
could thiuk of. J
" Take care of your own fire, then,"
says she, throwing the log down and
standing up as straight as she could
stand. I think it's a pity if you
haven't anything better to do the last
uight before going iu, than to pick ev
erything I do to pieces this way, and
I tired eubugh to dropj; carrying that
great crying child in my arms all day.
Vou ought to be ashamed of yourself,
Aaron lioliis l" . . -. . , lA
, Now U' she had cried a little, very
likely I should have given up, and that
would have been the end of it, for I
it goes against the grain. Bat your
mother wasn't one ot the crying sort,
and she didn't feel like it that night.
She iust stood up there by the fire
place, as proud as Queen Victoryg-I
don't blame . her, Johnny, O . no, , I
don't blame her ; she had the right of
it there. .' I ought to have been ash
amed of inyselt ; but a man never
likes to hear that from other folks, and
I put my pipe down on the chimney
shelf so hard I heard it. snap like ice,
and I stood up, too,. and said but no
matter what I said, I guess. . A man s
quarrels with his wife always makes
me ihink of what the Scripture says
about other folks not intermeddling;
They're things,, in my 1 opinion, that
don't concern anybody else as a. gen
eral thing, and I couldn't tell what I
said without telling what she said, and
I d rather not do that Your mother
was as good and patient tempered a
woman as ever lived, Johnny, and she
didn't mean it, and it was I that set
her on. Besides, mv words were
worst of ihc two. Well, well, I'll
hurry along just here, for it's not
lime I like to think about; but we
had it back and forth there for half
an hour, till we had angered each oth
er up so I couldu't stand it, and I lift
ed up my hand, I would have struck
her if she hadn't been a woman.
" Well," says I, " Nancy Hollis, I'm
sorry for the day I married you, and
that's the truth, if ever I spoke a true
word in my life."
I wouldu't have tofd jou that now
if you could understand the rest with
out. I'd give the world, Johnny, I'd
give the world and all those coupon
bonds Jedediah invested for me if I
could any way forget it; but I said it,
and I can t.
Well, I've seen your mother look
'most all sorts of ways in the course
of her life, but I never saw her before,
and I never saw her since, look as she
looked that minute. All the blaze
went out in her cheeks, as if somebody
had thrown cold water on it, and she
stood there stock still, so white I tho't
she would drop."
" Aaron " she began, and stooped
to catch her breath, " Aaron " but
she couldn't get any farther; she just
caught hold of a little shawl she had
on with both her hands, as if she tho't
she could hold herself up by if, and
walked right out of the room. Iknew
she had gone to bed, for I heard her
go up and shut' the door. I stood
there a few minutes with my hands iu
my pockets, whistling Yaukee Doodle.
Your mother used to say men were
queer folks, Johnny; they always
whistled up the gayest when they felt
the wust. Then I went to the closet
and got another pipe, and I didn't go
up stairs till it was Smoked out.
When I was a young mau, Johnny, I
used to be that sort of a fellow that
couldn't bear to give upbeat. I'd act
ed like a brute, and I knew it, but I
was too spunky to say .so. So I says
to myself, " If she won't make up first,
I won't, and that's the end ou't." Ye-
ry likely she said the same thing, for
your mother was a spirited sort of
woman when her temper was up ; so
there we were, t more like enemies
sworn against
each other than man
aud wile who 1iad loved each other
true ior fifteen years, a Whole win
ter, and danger, and death perhaps,
coming betwee us, too. ;
It may seem very queer to you, John
ny, it did to me when I was your age,
and di ui't know any more than you
do, how' folks A.n work themselves
up into great quarrels out of such lit
tle things ; but they do, aud into worse,
if it's a man who likes his own way,
aud a woman that kuoivs how to talk.
.i.:...j, r n .i
.j it o uij upiuiijn, two inn us ui nit me
jivorC'e cases in the lay books just
grow up out oi things JTo bigger than
that lamp wick.
But how people that ever loved
each other could come to hard words
like that, you don't see? Well, ha,
ha ! Johnny, that amuses me, that real
ly does amuse me, for I never saw a
young man nor a young woman eith
er, and young men and young ' wo
men in general are very much like
fresh hatched chickens, to my mind,
and know just about as much of the
world, Johnny, well, I never saw
one yet who didn't say that veiy thing.
Aud what s more, I never saw one
who could get it into his head that
old folks knew better.
But I say I had loved your mother
true, Johnny, and she had loved me
true, for more than fifteen years ; and
I loved her more the fifteenth year
than I did the first and we couldn't
have got along without each other,
any more than you could get along if
somebody cut your heart right out.
We had laughed together and cried
together; we had been sick, and we'd
been well together; we'd had our
hard times and our pleasant times
right along, side by side; we'd christ
ened the babies, and we'd buried 'em,
holding on to each other's hand; we
had grown along year after year,
through' ups' and downs and downs
and ups, just like one 'person,1 aud
there wasn't any more dividing of us.
But for all that ,we'd beeu put out,
and we'd had our two ways, and we
had spoken our sharp words like any
other two folks, and this wasnt our
first quarrel by any means ' ?
I tell you,' Johnny, : young ' folks
start1 in life with very pretty ideas, '
very pretty. But take it as a gener-?
al thing, they don't know, any more
what they're talking about, than they
do about each other," and they don't
kuow any more about each1 otheMhan
they do about the 'man in the moon.
They begin very nice, with their new
carpets and teaspoons, and a little
mending te do, and coming . home
early evening to talk; but by and by
the shine wears off." J Then comes the
babies, and worry and wear and tern
per. About that time they oegin to
be a little' acquainted, and find out
that there are two wills and two set3
of habits to fit somehow. It takes
them anywhere from one year to three
to get jostled down together. As for
smoothing off, there's more or less of
that to be done always.
Well, I didn't sleep very well that
night, dropping into naps and waking
up. j.,The baby was worrying over
his teeth every half hour, and Nancy
getting up to walk him off to sleep
in her arms,- it was the only way
you woufd be hushed up, and you'd
lie and yell till somebody did it. '
. Now, it wasn't many times since
we'd been married that I'd let her do
that thing all night long. I used to
have a way of getting up to take my
turn, and sending her off to sleep. It
isn't a man's business, some folks say ;
I don't know, any thing about that;
mayie, if I'd been broiling my brain
in book learning all day till uight
comes, aud 1 was hard put to it to
get my sleep anyhow, like the parson
there, it wouldn't; but all I know is,
what if I had been breaking my back
in the potato-patch since morning ? so
she'd broken her's over the oven ; and
what if I did need nine hours' sound
sleep ? I could chop and saw with
out it next day, just as well as she
could do the ironing, to say nothing
ot my being a great stou!, fellow
there want a chap for ten miles round
with my muscle and she with those
blue veins on her forehead. How
somever that may be, I wasn't used
to letting her do it by herself, and so
I lay with my eyes shut and pretended
to be asleep; ior I didn t feel like
giving in and speaking up genile, not
about that nor anything else
I could see her though, between
my eyelashes, and I lay there, every
time I woke up, and watched her
walk back aud forth, up and down.
with the heavy little fellow in her
arms all night long.
Sometimes, Johnny, when I'm gone
to bed now of a winter night, I think
I see her in her white nightgown with
her red plad shawl around the baby,
walking up aud down. I shut my
eyes, but there she is, and I open
them again, but I see her all the same.
I was off very early in the morn
ing; I don't thiuk it could have been
much after three o'clock when I woke
up. Naucy had my breakfast all laid
out over night, except the coffee, and
we had fixedit that I was tomake up
the fire, and get off without waking
her, it the baby was very bad. At
least that was the way I wanted it;
but she stuck to it she should be up,
that was before there had been any
words between us.
The room was very gray and still,
I rememlier just how it looked, with
Nancy's clothes on the chair, and the
baby's shoes king round. She had
got him off to sleep in the cradle, and
j had dropped i into a nap, poor thing !
with her face as white as the sheet
from watching.
I stopped when I was dressed, half
way out oi the room, and looked
round at it it was so white, Johnny !
It would be a long time before 1
should see it again five months were
a long time; then there was the risk.
coming down in the freshets, and the
words I'd said last night. I thought,
you see, if I'd kiss it once I needn't
wake her up mavbe I shbuld go off
feeling better. So I stood there look
ing, she was lying so still, I couldn't
see any more stir to her than it she
had her breath held in. I wish I had
done, it Johnny, I can't get over wish
ing I had done it yet. Butl was just
too proud, and I turned round and
went out, and shut the door.
. We were going to meet' down at
the post office, the whole gang of us,
and I had quite a spell to walk. I
was going iu on Bob Stoke's team. I
remember how fast I walked with my
hands in my pockets, looking along
up at the stars, the sun was putting
them out pretty fast, and trying not
to think of Nancy. But I didn't
think of anything else.
It was so early that there wasn't
many folks about to see us off; but
Bob Stokes' wife, she lived nigh the
office, just across the road, she was
there to say good by, kissing of him,
and crying on his shoulder. 1 aou W
know what difference that should
make with Bob Stokes, but I snapped
him up well when he came along and
said good morning.
There were twenty-one of U3 just,
on that gang, in on a contract for
Dove and Beadle. Dove and Beadle
did about the heaviest thhg on wood
laud of anybody about that time.
Good, steady men we were, most of
us, none of your blundering Irish,
that wouldn't know a maple from a
hickory, with a gin-bottle in their
pockets, but our solid, Down-East
Yaukee heads, owning their farms all
along the river, with schooling enough
to know what they were about 'lec
tion day. You didn't catch any of us
voting ycur new fangled tickets when
we had meant to go up on Whig, for
want of knowing the difference, nor
visa vussy. To say nothing of Bob
Stokes, and Holt, and me, and anoth
er fellow, I forget his name, being
members in good and reg'lar standing,
and paying in our five dollars to the
parson every quarter, charitable.
: Yes, though I 8ay: it, - that shouldn't
say it, we were as fine a looking gang
as any iu the country, starting off that
morning in our red uniform, Naucy
took a sight of pains with myj shirt,
sewing it up stout for fear it would
bother me ripping, and I with nobody
to take a stitch for me all winter.
The boys went off good spirits, sing
ing till' they were out of sight of town,
and waiving their hats at their wives
1
and babies standing in the window
along the . way. I - didn't - sing , I
thought the wind blew, too hard,
seems to me that was the reason,
I'm sure there must have been a rea
son, for I had a voice of my own in
those days, and had led the choir per
petual for five years.
We wern t going in very deep ;
Dove and Beadle's lots lay about. 30
miles from the nearest house ; and a
straggling, lonely sort of a place that
was too, five miles out of the village,
with nobody but a dog and a deaf olo
woman in it. Sometimes, as I was
telling you,, we had been in a hundred
miles from any human creature but
ourselves.
It took us two days to get there
though, with the oxen ; and the teams
were loaded down well, with so many
axes and pork-barrels; I don't know
anything like pork for hefting down
more than you expect it to, rea3on-
aWfi. It was one of your ugly gray
days, growing dark at four o'clock,
with snow in the air, when we hauld
up in the lonely place. The trees
blazed pretty thick, I remember, es
pecially the pines ; Dove and Beadle
always had that done up prompt in
October. It's pretty work going in
blazing while the sun is warm and
the woods like a great bonfire with
the maples. I used to like it, but
your mother wouldn't hear of it when
she could help herself, it keeps me
away so long.
It's queer, Johnny, how we do re
member things that ain't of no ac
count; but I do remember, as plainly
as if it were yesterday morning, just
how everything looked that night,
when the teams came up, one by one,
aud we went to work spry to get to
rights before the sun went down.
There were three shanties, they
tfon't often have more than two or
.1 i .i
inree in one place. tney were emp-.
ty, and the snow had drifted in ; Bob
Stoke's oxen were fagged out, with
their heads hanging down, and the
horses were whinnying for their sup
port. Holt had one his great brush
tires going, there was nobody like
Holt for making fires, and the boys
were hurrying round in their red
shirts., shouting at the oxen, aud sing
ing a little some of them low under
their breath, to keep their spirits up.
There was snow as tar as you could
see,; down the cart-path, and around,
away into the woods ; and there was
snow in the sky now, setting in for a
regular nor'easter. The trees stood
up straight ail around without any
leaves, and under the bushes it was
as black as pitch.
" Five months," said I to myseif,
-five months !''
"What in time's the matter with
you, Hollis ?" says Bob Stokes, with
a great slap on my arm: "you're giv
ing that 'ere ox molasses on his
hay !
Sure enough I was, and he said I
acted like a crazed creatuer, and very
likely I did. Butl couldn't have told
Bob the reason. You see, I knew
Xancy was just drawing up her lit-
tic rocking chair the one with the
green cushion close by the fire, sit
ing there with the children to wait
for the tea to boil. And I knew I
couldn't help knowing, if I tried hard
for it how she was cryiugaway soft
ly iu the dark, so that none of them
could see her, to think of the words
we'd said, and I gone in without ever
making of them up. I was sorry for
them then. O Johnny, I was sorry,
and she was thirty miles away. I'd
got to be sorry five months, . thirtv
miles away, and couldn't let her know.
The boys said I was poor company
that first week, and I shouldn't wond
er if I was. I couldn't seem to get
over it any way, to think"! couldn't
let her know.
If I could have sent her 'a scrap
of a letter, or a message, or some
thing, I should have leit better. But
there wasn't any chauce of that this
long time, unless we got out, of pork
or fodder, and had to send down,
which we didn't expect to, lor we'd
laid iu more than usual.
We had two pretty rough weeks'
work to begin with, for the worst
storms of the season set in, and kept
in, and I never saw their like, before
or since. it seemed as if there'd
never be an end to'them. Storm after
storm, blow after blow, freeze after
freeze; half a day's sunshine, and
then at it aain ! We were well tired
of it before they stopped; it made
the boys homesick.
However, we kept at work pretty
brisk, lumbermen aren't the fellows
to be put out for a suow storm, cut
ting and hauling and sawing, out in
the sleet and wind. Bob Stokes froze
his left foot that second week, and I
was frost bitten pretty badly myself.
Cullen he was the boss he was
well out of sorts, I tell you, before
the sun came out, and cross enough
to bite a ten penny nail in two. ,
But when the suu is out, it isn't so
bad a kind of life, at all. At work
all day, with a good hot dinner in the
middle ; then back to the shanties at
dark, to as rousing a fire and; tiptop
swagan as anybody could ask for.
Holt was cook that season," and Holt
couldn't be beaten oh hi3 swagan.
Now you don't .mean to - say you
don't know what swagan is ? Well,
welll To think of it I All I have to
say is, you don't know' what's good
then. Beans and pork and bread and
molasses, that's swagan, all stir
red up in a great kettle, and boiled
together; and I don't know anything
not even your mother's fritters
I'd give more for a taste of now. We
ju3t about lived on that; there's no
thing you can cut and haul all day ori
like swagan. ; Besides that, we used
- , . ' .CI "fill
to have doughnuts, you don't know!
what doughnuts 'are here in Massa
chusetts ; as ' big as'; a dinner plate,
those doughnuts were, and well a
little hard, perhaps. They used ; to
have' it abfut in Bangor that we used
them for clock pendulums, but I don't
know1 about that. 15 .''
I used to think a great deal about
Nancy night3,' when we !were sitting
up by the fire, we had our fire Tight
in the middle of the' hut, you know,
with a hole in ' the roof to let ' the
smoke out. When supper was eaten
the boys all sat up around it," and told
stories, and sang, and cracked their,
jokes ; then they had their backgam
mon and cards ; we got sleepy early,
along about nine or ten ' o'clock, and
turned in 1 under the roof with our
blankets. The roof , sloped down,
you know, to the ground ; so we lay
with our heads in under the : little
caves, and bur feet to the fire1, teri
or twelve of us to a shanty, all round
in a row. They built the ' huts up
like a baby's cob-house, with the logs
fitted in together. I used to think a
great deal about your mother, a3 I
was saying; sometimes I would lie
awake when the rest were off as
sotrhd as a top, and think about her.
Maybe it was foolish, and I'm sure I
wouldn't have told anybody about it:
but I couldn't get rid of"the notion
that something might happen to her
or to me belore five months were out,
and I with those words unforgiven.
Ihen, perhaps,-when 1 went to
sleep, I would dream about her, walk
ing back and forth, up and down, in
her nightgown and little red shawl,
with the great heavy baby in her
arms.
So it went along till come the last
of January, when one day I saw the
boys all standing round in a heap,
and talkiug. - ' '
"What's the matter?" say I.
"Pork's given out," says Bob, with
a whistle. "Beadle got that last lot
from Jenkins there, his son-in-law, and
it's sp'ilt. 1 could have told him that
beforehand. Never knew Jenkins to
do the fair thing by anybody yet."- :-J
"Who's going down?" said stop
ping short. I felt the blood run all
over my face,' like a woman's. -;
"Cullen hasn't made up his' mind
yet," says Bob, walking off. ' '
Now you see there wasn't a man
on the ground who wouldn't jump at
the chance to go; it broke up-the
winter for them, and sometimes they
could run iu home for half an hour,
driving by ; so there wasn't much of
a hope for me. But I went straight
to Mr. Cullen. '
"Too late. Just promised Jim Ja -
cobs," said he, speaking up quick: it
j was just business to him, you know1;
1 turned off, and I didn't say a
word I wouldn't have believed : it,
I never would have believed it," that I
could have felt so cut up about such a
little thing. Cullen looked round at
me sharp.' -
"Hil lia, Hillia i" said he. - " What's
to pay?" r 1 .
"Nothing, thank you, sir," says' I,
and walked off, whistling.
I had a little talk with Jim alone.
He said he would take good care of
something I'd give him, and carry it
straight. So when night came I went
and borrowed Mr. Qullen's pencil,
aud Holt tore me off a bit of clean
brown paper he found in the flour
barrel, and I went off among the
trees with it alone. ' I built a little
fire for myself out of a huckleberry
bush, and sat down there on the snow
to write. I couldn't do it in the
shanty, with the noise and sihgiirg.
The little brown paper wouldn't hold
much ; but these were the words'
I wrote, I remember every- one" of
them. it is curious how I should, and
that more than twenty years ago r
"Dear Nancy," that was it,
"Dear Nancy, I can't get over it, aud
I take them all.back. And if any
thing happens coming "down on the
logs" v ,;
I couldn't finish that anyhow,"so I
just wrote "Aaron" down in the cor
ner, and folded the brown paper up.
It didn't look auy more like "Aarou"
thau it did like I'Abimelech," though ;
for I didn't see a single letter I wrote,
not one. -" ,
After that I went to bed, and . wish
ed I was Jim Jacobs. ' "
Next morning somebody woke .me
up with a push, and there was the
boss. " ". " ' "
1 "Why, Mr". Cullen !". says I, with, a
juHip-.. .( " ' . ,;r
"Hurry up. man,, aud eat your
breakfast," said he, ("Jacobs is'dowii
sick, with his cold.'! "
"CM" said I.
("You and the pork, must be back
here day. after to-morrow so . be
spry, said he. :
I rather think I was Johnny. ,
It was'just eight" o'clock , when I
started ; , it took sometime' to get
breakfast, and feed the nags, and get
orders. ' I' stood there, slapping the
snow with my whip,! crazy'to be off,
hearing the last of What '.Lr.' Cullen
had to say. ; ,
Tliey gave me the twOvhorses,
we hadn't but two, -oxen i are tough
er for going in, "as genera! tningr
and the lightest team. on the ground;
it was considerably, lighter, than .Bob
Stokes's, .j If : it hadn't beenrfor'.:he
snow, I might have" "put the thing
through, in two days, but the snow
was up to the creatures', knees in the
shady places all , along ; off v from J,ho
road, in among the, i gullies, yoa could
stick a lour, foot measure down any
where. - . So they .didn't - look for me
back before .Wednesday nights
"I must, have that pork Wednesday
night sure,"' says-Cullen.
i,vtt Well, sir," says I "yoa shall have
it l' Wednesday," ' Providence permit-'
ting; "and , you shall have it Wednes
day night anyway." ;.( ,OJ " I
"You wilPhave a storm to do it
in I'm afraid," said he, looking, at the
clouds,' just as :1 ' Was whipping ' orj"
"You're all tight on . the road IJsup
poser; ; -
"All right,' said I, and ' I'm sure I:
ought to have beenj for the times I'd
been over it." 3 ";
Bess and Beauty, they were the
horses, and' of the ugly nags that ever
I say Beauty was the ugliest, started
on a round trot,' slewing along down
the hill ; they knew, they were 1 going
home just as well at I did.' I looked
back as I turned the corner, to see' the',
boys standing round id' their' red
shirt3, with the snow behind tnem,'
and the fire and the shanties.1 I felt
a mite lonely when I couldn't see "em
any more ; the show was so dead still,'
and there were thirty miles of it W
cross before I could see human Tace
again.1 - '' '; '" '' '
The clouds had'an ugly look. a few
flakes had fallen already arid the
snow was purple, deep in 'lis far'.a3
you could see under the trees.' Sorre-1
thing made me think vf Benf Gurnell,1;
as I drove on, looking down the" road
to keep it straight.' ; You never heard
about it? Poor' Ben ! Poor Bent
It was in '37, that was ; he had been
out hunting up blazed treesthey sa d,0
and wandered away somehow into
the Gray Goth-." arid went over, it
was . two hundred feet they didn't
find hirer till spring--j03' a little heap
of bones;-his wife had them taken'
home - and buried, and by and .by
they had to take her away to a hos
pital in Portland, she talked - so', hor
ribly;'' and 'thought she saw bones
round everywhere: '7 ' S -' -,!' " 1
There : is no place 'like Iherwood?
for5 bringing' a storm down 6u you
quick; the trees are so thick ' you
don't mind the first Tew! flakes, till,
first you know, there's a whirl of 'em
and the wind is up. - :" ; "'
I was minding less about it than
usual, for I was thinking ot 'Nannie,
that's what I used to call her, Johnny,
when 6he was a girl," but 'it 'seeins a
long time ago, that does. I lwas'
thinking how surprised she'd be,: and
pleased.- I knew she- would be bleas
ed. T didn't think so poorly ;bf : her
a3 to suppose she wasn't just as sorry;
now a9 I was for what had happened.'
I knew well enough how she' would
jump and throwJ down her" sewing
with a little scream, and : run and put
her arms about 'my neck ahd'ery? an'dT
: couldn't help herself, .w-iy- n-tci
So. I didn t mind ' about the. snow
for: planning.it all oat; till all it once
! looked! :np;!: and -something slashed
into my -eyes- and stung .me, :itiwis.
sleetrs-oy r.- c iiuov- . r ,ro os
, "Oho ft': said I-to;'myself vnxhikC.
whistle-it . was l a verjJong; whistle,
Johnny ; JL knew . well, enough then it
was . no. playt workj 1 1 had, before niev;
till the sun went down, nor till. morn
ing either.
- That was about noon it . couldn't
have been half an hour since I'd eaten
dinner; I eai it..
driving,
for' I
couldn't bear to waste time;
The. road wasn't broken there an,
inch, and the trees were thin .;, there'd
been a clearing there years ago," and
wide, , white level pIaceswouhd ,off ,
among the trees'; one looked. as much
like a road. as another, for the matter,
of that. .1 pulled', iny.'visor 'down
over my eyes to keep the sleet out, -
after they're stung too '.much', they 're!
good for nothing to' see' with, and T
must see. if I meaut to keep that road.
' I ' began to be cold. You don't
know what it "13 to be cold, " ydu "don't'
Johnny," in' the warm gentleman's life,
you've lived." I' wa3 used to.Marn
forests', and' I wa3 used to January;1
but that was'what I called cold. ; 1
The ' wind blew from' the ocean as
straight as an arrow. "'.The .sleet'
ble w' every' way, into S our eyes, do' wn ,
your neck, in like a kuife into your'
cheeks. I could feel the snow' crunch-'
ing' id under the "runners, crisp, turn-
ed to". ice in a minute! I reached out'
to give Bess a cut on the neck', and."
the sleeve of my coat' was 'stiff as"
pasteboard' before I bent my elbow
up again. ";' ' "
' If yoai6bked:up atrthe skyVyorcrrT
eyes .were shut with & snap as if soine
body'd shot them: 1 If you looked ' in'
under the trees; you coud see' the
icicles a minute, and the7 purple" shad-?
ows. If you looked straight 'ahead'"
you : couldn't see a thing. ' 'y-H i- .
By and by I thought I had dropped'
the; reins ; I looked at my hands ancl
there;! was1 holding 'them1 'tigb't." - I
knew" then it was time to get but1 and
walk!1 ''' -' 1 -l"' by-. i-uw I o.-w
- I didn't try much after that to look
ahead; it was no use,-for the- slectr
was fine like needles twenty 'of 'enf
in 'your eye at a'' wink; -then it was1
a growing dark; Bess and Beauty
knew the road as " well ' aa ; ' d id sotJ'
had to 'trut- tb'-theinv I thought T
must be1 icomihg: near the' clearing
where I'd counted on putting upover-night-
in case 1 1 couldn't- reach Hh&
deaf old woman's: b;-a b-i?
.THere ; was i a man just "but of Bangor
the winter before, walking just so be-'
side hi3 team," and her kept oh walking'
some lolks said, after he breath war
gone, and they found him - frozen "up
against the sleigh-poles. I would have
given a good deal if I needn't have
thought of that just therL ; But I did,
and kept walking on.- - 'i ; aai
i Pretty -soon -Bess stopped, short;
Beauty was pulling on, -Beauty al
ways: did pull on,--but '- she ' stopped
too. I couldn't stop: so easily,' so I
walked along like a machine, up on a
line with the creatures' ears..; I did!
stop then or-you ; never would have
heard this story Johnny; o-'j r.o -i
daw tlwwiuvs ia txn ci iad
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