PAGE SIX
THE LIGHT
i THE HEARING"
. A TALE OF THE NORTH COUNTRY
j . IN THE TIME OF SILAS WRIGHT
1 IIWINO BMHELLEFw
Avnwtor
E2EN HOLDEN, D'BI AND I DAKttl Of THE BUSSED ISU
KEEPING W WTH IRIX, ETC. ETC
WnUNt MHCIBNsf IVIM IUM, MHO M&SUS
liTxJy ami I Radf se'f 6uf m our spring fi-uur or ins cronraniun b.'.up, 57 era
buggy with the family umbrella a river shore, watching them, as I
faded but sacred Implement, always passed, on my way to the mill on an
carefully dried, after using, and hung errand. The two statesmen were in
In the clothes press. We were drenched
- to the skin in spite of the umbrella.
It was still raining when we arrived
at the familiar door in Ashery lane.
Uncle Penbody wouldn't stop.
Hi- hurried away. We pioneers rare
ly stopped or even turned out for the
weather.
"Come In," said the voice of the
schoolmaster at the door. "There's
good weather under this roof."
lie saw my plight as 1 entered.
"I'm like a shaggy dog that's been
In swimming," I said.
"Upon rny word, ooy, we're In luck,"
remarked the schoolmaster.
1 looked up at hltn.
' Michael Henry's clothes I sure,
they're just the thing for you!"
1 followed him upstairs, wondering
how it had happened that Michael
Henry had clothes.
Ho took me Into his room and
brought some handsome, soft clothes
out of a press with shirt, socks and
bout to mutch.
"There, my laddie buck," enld he,
"put them on."
"These will soon dry on me," I sn!d.
"Put them onye laggard 1 Michael
Henry told me to give them to you.
It's the birthday night o' Utile Ruth,
my boy. There's a big cnlte with can
dles and chicken pie and Jollied cook
ies und all (he like o' that. Put them
ou. A wet boy at the feast would
dampen the wholo proceedings."
I put tliem on and with a great
sense of relief and comfort. They
were fin admirable fit-' on perfect for
un accident, althotr at the time I
thought only of their grandeur as I
stood surveying myself In the looking
glass. They were of blue cloth and I
saw that they went well with my
' blond hair and light skin. I was put
ting on my collar .nnd neck lie when
Mr. Ilncltet returned.
' We went below and the table whs
tery grand wllh Its great frosted cuke
and Its candles, in shiny brass sticks,
nnd Its Jellies and preserves with the
gleam of polished pewter among them.
Mrs. Ilacket and all the children, save
Ittith, were waiting for us In the din
ing room.
"Now sit down here, nil o ye, with
Mlchnrl Henry," snld the schoolmas
ter. "Vl.e little lady will be Impatient.
I'll go nnd get her r.nd God help us to
ninke her reini'iuiu r !he day."
He was gone a moment, only, when
lio came back with Itulh In lovely
while dress and slippers and gay with
ribbons, and the silver beads of Mary
riu her nock. We chipped our hands
find cheered and, In the excitement of
tlui moment, John tipped over his
drinking glass and shattered it on
the floor.
"Never mind, my brave lad no glass
ever perished In a better cause. God
Wess you 1"
We ate and Jested and tnlkcd, and
the soutid of our laughter drowned
the cry of the wlud In tho chimney
nnd the drumming of the ruin upon
(he windows.
Next morning my clothes, which had
been hung by the kitchen stove, were
dump and wrinkled. Mr. Ilacket came
to my room before I had risen.
"Michael Henry would rather see
bis clothes hanging on a good boy
than on a null In tho closet," said he.
"Sure they give no comfort to the
nail at all."
"I guess mine are dry now," I an
swered. "They're wet nnd heavy, boy. No
son o' Baldur could keep a light heart
lu them. ' Sure ye'd be hs much out
o' place as a sunbeam lu a cave o'
bats. It yo care not for your own
comfort think o' the poor lad In the
Ijrecn chair. IIo's that proud and
llcused to see lliem on ye it would be
11 shame to reject his offer. Sure, If
they were dry yer own garments
would bo good enough, God knows,
but Michael Henry loves the look o'
ye In these tni's, and then the presi
dent is In town."
That eveulug he discovered a big
idalii, block as ink, on my coat ami
trousers. Mr. Ilacket expressed the
opinion that It might have come from
I he umbrella, but I am quite sure that
be had spotted them to save we from
the lust homemade suit I ever wore,
nave In rough work, and keep Michael
Henry's on my back. lu any event I
wore them no more save at chore time.
Sally came and went, with the Wills
boy, and gave 110 heed to me. In her
vyea I had no more substance than
ghost, It seouied to me, although I
caught her, often, looking at me. I
Judged that her father had given her
ft bad report of us and had some re
prets, in spite of my knowledge flint
ive were right, although they related
mostly to Amos.
Next afternoon I sntr Mr. Wright '.
find the president walking back and j
forth cn the bridge as they talked j
together A cumber of men . stood In
broadcloth and white linen and beaver
bats. They stopped as I approached
them.
"Well, partner, we shall be leaving
in an hour or so," said Mr. Wright as
he gave me his hand. "You may look
for me here soon after the close of the
session. Take care of yourself and go
often to see Mrs. Wright and obey
your captain and remember me to your
aunt nnd uncle."
"See that you keep coming, my good
boy," said the president as he gave me
his band, with playful reference, no
doubt, to Mr. Wright's remark that I
was a coming num.
"Bart, Tve some wheat to fce
thrushed In the barn 011 the back lot,"
said the senator as I wus leaving
them. "You can do It Saturdays, if
you care to, at a shilling an hour.
Stack the straw out of doors until
you've finished, then put It back lu the
buy. Winnow the wheat carefully and
suck it and bring it down to the gran
ary and I'll settle with you when I
return."
I remember thftt a number of men
who worked ,11 Qrlmshaw's sawmill
were passing as he spoke.
"Yes, sir," I answered, much elated
by the prospect of earning money.
The examination of Amos was set
down for Monday and the people of
the vlllnge were stirred and shaken
by wildest rumors regarding the evi
dence to be adduced. Every day men
and women stopped me in tho street
lo ask what I knew of the murder. I
followed the advice of Bishop Per
kins nnd kept my knowledge to myself.
Sattirduy came, nnd when tho chores
were done I went alone to the grain
barn In tho hack lot of the senator's
farm with flail nnd measure nnd broom
and fork and shovel nnd sacks and my
luncheon, lu a pushcart, with nil of
which Mrs, Wright had provided me.
Tt was a lonely place with woods
on three sides of the field nnd a road
on the other. I kept laying down
beds of wheat on the barn floor and
healing them out with the flail until
the sun wus well over the roof, when
I sat down to eat my luncheon. Then
I swept up the grain nnd winnowed I
out the chaff and filled one of ray
sacks. That done, I covered the floor
again and the thump of the Hall cased
my loneliness until In the middle of I
tho afternoon two of my schoolmates
came and asked me to go swimming I
with them. The river wus not forty
rods away and a good trail led to the j
swimming hole. It was a warm, bright I
day and I was hot and thirsty. Thei
thought of rool waters and friendly 1
companionship was too much for me. ;
I went with them nnd stayed with,
them longer than I Intended, I re-!
member saying as I dressed that I
should have to work late and go with-
out my supper In order to finish my ;
stint. ., I
It was almost dark when I was put-'
ting the last sack of wheat Into my
cart, in the gloomy bnru nud getting
ready to go. j
A rustling In the straw where I
stood stopped me suddenly. I heard
stealthy footsteps In the darkness. I.
stood my ground und demanded :
"Who's there?" j
I saw n form approaching In the
gloom with feet ns noiseless as a cut's.
I too': a step backward und, seeing I
that It was a woman, stopped. I
"It's Kate," came In a hoarse whls- i
per us I recognized her form and staff, j
"Kun, boy they have Just come out
o' the woods. I saw them. They will
take you away. Kun." i
She had picked up the flail, and now
she put It in my hnnds and gave me
a push toward the door. I ran, and
none too quickly, for 1 had not gone
fifty feet from the barn In the stubble
when I heard them coming after me,
whoever they were. I suw that Ihey
were gaining and turned quickly. I
had time to raise my flail nnd bring it
down upon the head of the leader,
who fell ns 1 had seen a beef fall un
der the iix. Another man stopped be
yond the reach of my flail and, after
a second's hesitation, turned and ran
away In the darkness.
I could hear or see no other motion
In the Held. I turned und ran on
down the slope toward the village. In
a moment I saw someone coming out
of the maple grove at the field' end.
Just ahead, with a lantern.
Then I heard the voice of the school
master saying:
"Is It you, my ladr
"Yes," I answered, as I came up to
him and Mary, In a condition of
breathless excitement.
I told them of the curious adventure
I had nnd.
"Come quick," said the schoolmas
ter. "Let's go back and find the man
In the stuhblo."
I remembered that I had struck the
path In my flight Just before stopping
tfiswlngjhe JtuH. J'hejiinn must have
TKE DAILY CAPITAL JOURNAL
Hm 0
I Had Time to Raise My Flail and
Bring It Down Upon the Head of
the Leader.
luueu very ueur . . wu.
w here he had been lying nnd drops of
fresh blood on the stubble.
"Hush," said tli.' schoolmaster.
We listened and heurd a wagon rat
tling nt a wild pace down tho road
toward the river.
"There he pes," sold Mr. Hacket
"Ills compnnu.us have carried him
away. Ye'd be riding in that wagon
now, yerself, my brave lad, If ye hadn't
V made n Iit-ky hit with the flail
Cod bless ye!"
"What wo M they 'a' done with
me?" I asked.
"Oh, I reckon they'd 'n' took ye off,
lad, and kep' ye for a year or so until
Amos was out 0' danger," said Mr,
Ilacket. "Maybe tli y'd drowned ye In
the river down tl ,-re nn' left yer
elotlies on the bant, to make It look
like nn honest drowning. The devil
knows what they'd V done with ye,
'addle buck. We'll have to keep nj
eye on ye now, every day until the
trial Is over sure wo will. Cot.ie, We'll
go up to the barn and see if Kate is
there."
Just then we heard the receding
wagon go roaring over the bridge on
Little liver. Mary shuddered with
fright. The schoolmaster reassured us
by saying:
"lon' be afraid. I brought my gun
In case we'd meet n painter. But the
danger is past."
He drew n long pistol from his coat
pocket and held It In the light of the
lantern.
The loaded cart stood In tho middle
of the bnrn floor, where I hnd left It,
but old Kate hod gone. We closed
the barn, drawing the cart along with
us. When we came Into the edge of
the village I begun to reflect upon the
strange peril out of which I had so
luckily escaped. It gave me a heuvy
sense of responsibility and of the
wickedness of men,
I thought of old Kate and her broken
silence. For once I had heard her
speak. I could feel my flesh tingle
vhen I thought of her quick words
and her bourse, passionate whisper.
I knew, or thought I knew, why she
took such care of me. She was in
league with the gallows and could not
bear to see It cheated of Its prey. For
some reason she hated the Grlmsirtvs.
I hnd seen the hate In her eyes the
(lay she dogged along behind the old
money lender through the streets of
the village when her pointing finger
had seemed to say to me: "There,
there Is the man who has brought me
to this. Ho has put these rags upon
my back, this fire In my heart, this
wild look In rr-.y eyes. Wait and you
will see what I will put upon him."
I knew that old Kate was not the
Irresponsible, witless creature that
people thought her to be. I had begun
to think of her with a kind of awe ns
one girted above nil others. One by
one the things she hnd said of the
future seemed to be coming true,
As we were going Into the house the
schoolmaster said:
"Now, Mnry, you take this lantern
and go across the street to the house
o' Deacon Itluks, the constable. You'll
find him nsleep by the kitchen stove.
Arrest his slumbers, but not rudely,
and, when he has come to, tell hlra
that I have news 0' tho devil."
Peaenn Blnks arrived, a fat man
with a big. round body and a very
wise and serious countenance between
side whiskers bending from his temple
to his neck and suggesting parentheses
of hnlr, as If his bend nnd Its acces
sories were In the nature of a side
Issue. lie nnd the schoolmaster went
out of doors and must have talked to
gether while I was cntlng a bowl of
bread and milk which Mrs. Ilacket had
brought to me.
. When I went to bed, by and by, I
heard somebody snoring on the little
porch under my window. The first
sound that reached my ear at the
break of, dawn was the snoring of
some sleeper. I dressed nnd went be
low nnd found the constable In his
coonskln overcoat asleep on tho porch
with a long-barreled gun at his side.
While I stood there the schoolmaster
csme around the corner of the house
from the garden. He put his hand on
the deacon's shoulder and gave him
n little shake.
"Awake, ye limb o' the low," he de
manded. 'Trayer I better than
sleep."
The deacon arose and stretched
blmsolf and cleared his throat and as
sumed on nlr of alertness and said It
s - r"'-J. -SilfJUl was not,
1
1
SALEM, OREdON. THURSDAY, JANUARY 16, 1919.
I the ky "oeing o. oieust "ami i..e a-?
1 dark and chilly. Mr. Hacket removed
his grAtcout and threw it on the stoop
saying:
. "Deacon, yon lay there. From now
on I'm constable und ready for any act
that mny be necessary to maintain the
vr. I can be as severe as Napoleon
Bonaparte and as cunning as Satan, If
I have to be."
While I was milking th deacon sat
on a bucket In the doorway of the
stable and snored until I had finished.
He awoke when I loosed the cow and
the constable went back to the pasture
with me, yawning with his hand over
his mouth much of the way. The dea
con leaned his elbow en the top of
the pen and snored again, lightly,
while I mixed the feed for the pigs.
Mr. Hacket met ns it the kitchen
door, where Deacon Blnks said te him:
"If you'll look after the boy today
I'll to home and get a little rest"
"God bless yer soul, ye had a busy
night," said the schoolmaster with a
smile.
He added as he went Into the house:
"I never knew a man to rest with
more energy and persistence. It was
a perfect flood 0' rest. It kept me
awake until long after midnight."
CHAPTER XI.
The Spirit of Michael Henry and
Others.
At the examination of Amos Griin
shnw my knowledge was committed to
the records and ceased to fie a source
of danger to me. Grlinshnw came to
the village that day. On my way to
the courtroom I saw him walklns
I slowly, with bent head as I had seen
him before, followed by old Kate. She
carried her staff In her left hand while
the forefinger of her right hand was
pointing him out, Silent ns a ghost
and ns unheeded one would say she
followed his steps.
I observed that old Kate sat on a
front seat with her hand to her ear
and Grimslmw beside his lawyer at n
big table and that when she looked nt
hlra her Hps moved In a strange un
uttered whisper of her spirit. Her
face filled with Joy as one damning
detail oftcr another came out In the
evidence.
The facts hereinbefore alleged, and
, others, were proved, for the tracks fit
ted the shoes of Amos. The young
I nam was held and presently Indicted.
I The time of his trial was not deter-
mined.
I I wrote a good hand those days and
' the lending merchant of the village
engaged me to post his books every
Saturday at ten cents nn hour. Thence
forward until Christmas I gave my
I free days to that task. - I estimated
the sum that I should earn and
planned to divide It In equal parts nnd
proudly present It to my aunt and
uncle on Christmas day.
I One Saturday while I was at work
on the big ledger of the merchant I
; ran upon this Item :
I October J.-S. Wrlnht To one suit
i or clothes for Michael Hfnry from
I measures furnished by S. Robln-
' urn JH.JO
, Shirts to match 1.70
j I knew then the history of the suit
of clothes which I had worn since that
; rainy October night, for I remembered
that- Sam Robinson, the tailor, had
measured me at our house and made
up the cloth cf Aunt Doel's weaving.
' I observed, also, that numerous ar
ticles a load of wood, two sacks of
flour, three pairs of boots, one coat
ten pounds of salt pork and four
bushels of potatoes all for "Michael
Henry" had been charged to Silas
Wright
So by the merest chance I learned
that the Invisible "Michael Henry" was
the almoner of the modest statesman
and really the spirit of Silns Wright
feeding the hungry and clothing the
naked and warming the cold house,
in the absence of Its owner. It was
the heart of Wright Joined to that of
tho schoolmaster, which snt In the
green chair.
I fear that my work suffered a mo
ment's Interruption, for Just then I
began to know the great heart of the
senotor. Its warmth was In the cloth
ing that covered my back. Its delicacy
in the Ignorance of those who had
shared Its benefactions.
I connt this one of the great erents
of my youth. But there was a greater
one, although it seen fed not so at the
time of It. A traveler on the road to
Ballybeen had dropped his pocket book
containing a large amount of money
waA the, 8umt- If I remember
i ttti i i'vxy .its
' tit VJi Fm
"Awake, Ye Limb 0' the Law."
rifciitiyr" 7e" vaS" S" iiu.il GTT, ,
justly suspicions of the banks, had
, withdrawn his rsoney. Posters an
nounced the loss and the offer of a
; large reward. The Tillage was pro
j foundly stirred by them. Searching
parties went up the road stirring Its
j dust and groping In Its grass and bri
ers for the great prize which was sup
posed' to be lying there. It was said,
however, that the quest had been un
successful. So the lost pocketbook
became a treasured mystery of the
village and of all the hills and val
leys toward Bnllybeen a topic of old
wives and gabbling husbands at the
fireside for unnumbered years.
By and by. the fall term of school
ended. Uncle Peabody came down to
get me the day before Christmas. I
had enjoyed my work and my life at
the Backets', on the whole, but I was
glad to be going home again. My
nncle was In high spirits and there
were many packages In the sleigh.
"A merry Christmas to ye both an'
may the Lord loTe ye!" said Mr.
Hacket as he bade ns goodby. "Every
day our thoughts will be going up the
hills to your house."
The bells rang merrily as we hur
ried through the swamp In the hard
snow paths.
"We're goln to move," said my
uncle presently. "We've agreed to get
out by the middle o' May."
"How does that happen?" I asked.
"I settled with Grlmshaw and agreed
to go. If it hadn't 'a been for Wright
and Baldwin we vouldn't 'a' got a
cent. They threatened to bid agninst
him at the sale. So he settled. We're
goin' to have a new home. We've
bought a hundred nn' fifty acres from
Abe Leonard. Coin' - to build a new
house In the spring. It will be nearer
the village."
He playfully nudged my ribs with
his elbow.
"We've had a little good luck, Bart,"
he went on. "I'll tell ye whnt it Is If
yon won't say anything about It"
I promised. ..
"I dunno ns It would matter much,"
he continued, "but I don't want to do
any bruggtn'. It ain't anybody's busi
ness, anyway. An old uncle over in
Vermont died three weeks ago and
left us thirty-eight hundred dollars.
It was old Uncle Ezra . Baynes o'
Hinesburg. Died without a chick or
child. Your aunt and me slipped down
to Potsdam an' took the stage an'
went over an got the money. It was
more money than I ever see before
In my life. .We put It In the bank in
Potsdam to keep it out o' Grlmshnw's
hands. I wouldn't trust that man as
fur ns you could throw a bull by the
tail.''
It was a cold, qlear night, and when
we reached home the new stove was
snapping with the heat In Its firebox
nnd the pudding puffing in the pot
and old Shop dreaming in the chimney
corner. Aunt Deel gave me a huj at
the door. Shep barked and leaped to
my shoulders.
"Why, Bart I You're growln' like a
weed ain't ye? ayes ye be," my
aunt said as she stood and looked at
me. "Set right down here an' warm
ye ayes ! I've done all the chores
ayes 1"
How warm and comfortable was the
dear old room with those beloved faces
In it. I wonder If paradise itself can
seem more pleasant to me. I have had
the best food this world can provide,
In my time, but never anything that
I ate with a keener relish than the
pudding and milk and bread and but
ter and cheese and pumpkin pie which
Aunt Deel gave us that night.
Supper over, I wiped the dishes for
my aunt while Uncle Penbody went
out to feed and water the horses. Then
we sat down In the genial warmth
while I told tho story of my life In
"the busy town," as they called It.
What pride and attention they guve
me then!
My fine clothes and the story of how
I had come by them taxed my Inge
nuity somewhat although not improp
erly. I had to be careful not to let
them know that I had been ashamed
of the homemade suit. They somehow
felt the truth about It and a little
silence followed the story. Then Aunt
Deel drew her chair near me and
touched my hair very gently and
looked Into my face without speaking.
"Ayes I I know," she said presently,
In a kind of caressing tone, with a
touch of sadness In It "They ain't
used to coarse homespun stuff down
there in the village. They made fun
o' ye didn't they, Bart?"
"I don't care about that" I assured
them. "'The mind's the measure of
the mnn,' " I quoted, remembering the
lines the Senator had repeated to me.
"That's sound !" Uncle Peabody ex
claimed with enthusiasm.
Aunt Deel took my hand In hers nnd
surveyed It thoughtfully for a moment
without speaking.
"You ain't goln' to have to suffer
that way no more," she snld in tt low
tone. We're goln' to be more comfta
ble ayes. Yer uncle thought we better
go West, but I couldn't bear to go off
so fur an' leave mother au' father nn'
sister Susan an' all the folks we loved
layin' here In the ground alone I
w ant to lay down with "em by an' by
an' wait for the sound o' the trum
pet ayes ! melibe It'll be for thou
sands o' years ayes!"
To our astonishment the clock
struck twelve.
"Hurrah! It's merry Christmas P
said Uncle Peabody as he jumped to
his feet and began to sing of the little
Lord Jesus.
We joined him while he stood beat
ing time with his right hand after the
fashion of a singing master.
"Off with yer boots, friend P he ex
claimed when the stanza was finished.
"We don't have to set up and watch
like the shepherds."
We drew our boots on the chair
cauad. with, hands, clasped over the
knee how fumiliar Is tuo protest, alHI
yet I haven't seen It In more than half
a century I I lighted a candle and
scampered upstairs in my stocking
feet Uncle Peabody following close
and slapping my thigh as If my pace
were not fast enough for him. In the
midst of our skylarking the candle
tumbled to the Boor and I had to go
back to the stove and relight It
How good It seemed to be back In
the old room under the shingles ! The
heat of the stovepipe had warmed Its
hospitality.
"It's been kind o lonesome here,"
said Uncle Peabody as he opened the
window. "I always let the wind come
In to keep me company It gits so
warm." x
"Ye can't look at yer stocktn' yltH
said Aunt Deel when I came down
stairs about eight o'clock, having slept
through chore time. I. remember It
was the delicious aroma of frying ham
and buckwheat cakes which awoke me;
and who wouldn't rise and shake off
the cloak of slumber on a bright
cold winter morning with such provo
cation? "This ain't no common Chrls'mas
I tell ye," Aunt Deel went on. "Santa
Clnus won't git here short 0 noon I
wouldn't wonder ayes 1"
About eleven o'clock Uncle Hiram
and Aunt Eliza and their five children
arrived with loud and merry greetings.
Then came other aunts and uncles and
cousins. With what noisy good cheer
the men entered the house after they
had put up their horses ! I remember
how they laid their hard, heavy hands
oii my head and shook It a little as
trey spoke of my "stretchin' up" or
gave me n playful slap on the shoulder
nn ancient token of good will the
first form of the accolade,. I fancy.
What Joyful good humor there was In
those simple men and women enough
to temper the woes of a city if it could
have been applied to their relief. They
stood thick around the stove warming
themselves nnd taking off Its griddles
end opening its doors and surveying It
inside and out with much curiosity.
"Now for the Chriutuias tree," said
Uncle Peabody as he led the way Into
our best room, where a fire was burn
ing in the old Franklin grate. "Come
on, boys nn' girls."
What a wonderful sight was the
Christmas .tree the first we had had
ha our house a fine spreading balsam
loaded with presents 1 Uncle Hiram
i jumped into the air and clapped his
i'feet together and shouted : "Hold me,
j somebody, or I'll grab the hull tree
i cn' run away with It."
I Uncle Jnbez held one foot In both
hands before him nnd joyfully hopped
around the tree.
I These relatives had brought their
family gifts, some days before, to be
hung on Its branches. The thing that
caught my eye was a big silver watch
hanging by a long golden chain to ono
of the boughs. Uncle Peabody took it
down and held It aloft by the chain,
so that none should miss the sight, say
ing: "From Santa Claus for Bart 1"
A murmur of admiration ran through
IP
"From Santa Claus for Bart!"
the company which gathered around
me as I held the treasure in my trem
bling hnnds.
"This Is for Bart, too," Uncle Pea
body shouted ns he took down a bolt
of soft blue cloth and laid It In my
arms. "Now there's somethin' that's
jest about as slick as a kitten's ear.
I'eel of It It's for a suit o' clothes.
Come all the way from Burlington.
Now get-ap there. You've got your
loud."
I moved out 'of the way In a hurri
cane of merriment. It was his one
great day of pride and vanity. He did
not try to conceal them.
The other presents floated for a mo
ment In this irresistible tide of laugh
ing good will and found their owners,
I have never forgotten how Uncle Ja
bez chased Aunt Minerva around the
house with a wooden snake cunningly
carved and colored. I observed there
were many things on the tree which
had not been taken down when we
younger ones gathered up our wealth
and repaired to Aunt Deel's room to
feast our eyes upon It and compare
our good fortune.
The women and the big girls rolled
up their sleeves and went to work with
-Aunt Deel preparing the dinner. The
great turkey and the chicken pie were
made ready and put In the oven and
the potatoes and the onions and the
winter squash were soon boiling in
their pots on the stovetop. Mean
while the children were, plarlng lnniy
mm
auoTs Eedrooui and" Uucte ffiruui ami
Uncle Jabez were pulling sticks In a
corner while the other men sat tipped
iigalnst the wall watching and making
playful comments all save my Uriole
Peabody, who was trying to teach his
head to the floor and then straighten
up w ith the aid of the broomstick.
In the midst of it Aunt Deel opened
the front door and old Kate, the Silent
Woman, entered. To my surprise, she
wore a decent-looking dress of gray
homespun cloth and a white cloud
' looped over her head and ears and tied
around her neck and a good pair of
boots.
! ' "Merry Chris'mas P we all shouted.
She smiled and nodded her head and
: eat down in the chair which Uncle Pea
body had placed for her at the stove
side. Aunt Deel took the cloud off
her head while Kate drew her mittens
newly knitted of the best yarn. Then
y aunt brought some stockings and a
6hawl from the tree and laid them on
the lap of old Kate. What a silence
fell upon ns as we saw tears coursing
down the cheeks of this lonely old
woman of the countryside tears of
joy, doubtless, for God knows how long
It had been since the poor, abandoned
eoul had seen a merry Christmas and
shared its kindness. I did not fail to
ebserve how clean her face and hands
I looked! She was greatly changed.
I She took my hand as I went .to her
side and tenderly caressed it A gen
tler smile came to her face than ever
I had seen upon it. The old stern look
returned for a moment as she held one
finger aloft In a gesture which only I
and my Aunt Deel understood. , We
knew it signalized a peril and a mys
tery. That I should have to meet It,
scmewhere up the hidden pathway, I
had no doubt whatever.
I "Dinner's ready!" exclaimed the
. cheerful voice of Aunt Deel.
i Then what a stirring of chairs and
feet as we sat down at the table. Old
Kate sat by the side of my aunt and
wt were all surprised at her good man
ners. j We jested and laughed and drank
cider and reviewed the year's history
- nnd ate as only they may eat who have
big bones and muscles and the vitality
' of oxen. I never taste the flavor of
sr.ge and currant jelly or hear a hearty
, latigh without thinking of those holi
'Xv dinners in te old log ho'ise on
Itottlerond.
j That Christmas brought me nothing
better than those words, the memory
I of which Is one of the tallest towers la
that long avenue of my past down
w hleh I have been looking these many
days. About all you cun do for n boy,
worth while, Is to give him something
good to remember.
The day had turned dark. The tem
perature had risen and the air was
dank and chilly. The men began to
hitch up their horses.
So, one by one, the slelghloads left
us with cheery good-bys and a grind.
I.ig or runners and a jlnglln? of bells.
When the last hnd gone Uncle Pea
body and I went Into the house. Aunt
Deel sat by tho stove, old Kate by the
window looking out nt the fttlllng dusk.
How still the house seemed!
"There's one thing I forgot," I said
as I proudly took out of my wallet the
six one-dollar bills which I had earned
by working Saturdays and handed
three of them to my aunt and three to
my uncle, saying:
"That Is my Christmas present to
you. I earned it myself."
I remember so well their astonish
ment and the trembling of their hands
and the look of their faces.
"It's grand ayes!" Aunt Deel said
in a low tone.
She rose in a moment nnd beckoned
to me and my uncle. We followed her
through the open door to the other
room.
"I'll tell ye whnt I'd do," she whis
pered. "I'd give 'em to ol'' Kate
ayes I She's goia' to stay with ns till
tomorrow."
"Good Idee 1" said Uncle Penbody.
So I took the money out of their
hands and went in and gave It to J&e
Silent Woman.
"That's your present from me," I
eald.
How can I forget how she held my
arm against her with that loving, fa
miliar, rocking motion of a woman
who Is soothing a baby at her breast
and kissed my cont sleeve? She re
leased my arm nnd, turning to the win
dow, leaned her head upon Its sill nnd
shook with sobs. The dusk had thick
ened. As I returned to my sent by the
stove I could dimly see her form
against tho light of the window. We
sat in silence for n little while.
Then Uncle Peabody rose and got a
candle and lighted it nt the hearth.
1 held the lantern while Uncle Tea
body fed the sheep and the two cows
and milked a slight chore these win
tei days.
, "You and I are to go off to bed party
early," he said ns we were going back
to' the house. "Yer Aunt Deel wants
to see Kate alone and git her to talk
If she can.
"I dunno bnt she'll swing back Into
this world ng'ln,"sald Uncle Peabody
when we had gone up to our little
room. , "I guess all she needs is to be
treated like a human bein. Yer Aunt
Deel an' I couldn't git over thlnkln' o
what she done for you that night in
the ol' barn. So I took some 0' yer
aunt's good clothes to her an' a pair
o' beots an' asked her to come to
Chris'mas. She lives In a little room
over the blacksmith shop down to But
fcrfield's mill. I told her I'd come
after her with the entter but she shook
her head. I knew she'd rather walk."
He was yawning as he spoke and
soon we were both asleep under the
shingles.
CHAPTER XII.
The Thing and Other Things.
L. returned o Mr. Iinc-t'a hops
(Continued tomorrow)