Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1868-07-08

;
Better nature.
''What do you want money for, boy ?"
growled the farmer trying to look stern.
Harry glanced down at his little red, frost
bitten toes, as if he thought the question
rather superfuous.
''To buy some shoes, sir, and we haven't
had any meat in the house for month, sir. "
Farmer Oxley whfstled, and snapped the
lash of his whip.
Look here, boy, I'm going to Ledgeport
to sell these apples, and maybe l might
make you useful holding the horses, OR meas
uring out. If you've a mind to earn shil-
ling, come along. But" he added, as Har-
ry clambered up, "a shilling won't buy
pair of shoes.
s mo, sir, know it won't, said Harry,
"but could lay it up, and perhaps get
little more some day."
s'Well said," chukled the farmer. II
uess you'll do, young man.
| Harry wondered what Mr.. Oxley meant,
bt be did not venture to ask, ,and sat quiet
iy " the farmer side, while that individu-
al sok silent note of tic boys bright black
cur; and big dark eyes, and neatly mendcl
garlents.
good face thought the farmer 81
snppee they must be very poor. [ wish l
had lsRebecca send down those apples.
1t he nrns out to be good for anything |
may gre him something to do around the
barn. 4
1t waa hard days work, but Harry cared
little 70 that, with the twelve cents gleam-
ing at tSs send of the long perspective.
Wei my boy, see you're not afraid of
work, y sd Mr.. Oxley as, he turned his
horses heds towards home just as the new
moon ros a glistening thread, above the
city spires
Harry laghed.
Are we loing home sir 2"
Not jus this minute I've got to stop
at the Savins Bank. 1t don't close till five
and must CIV little sum out.
Harry heltthe horses, while Mr.. Oxley
went into thdoank, and gave up the reins
in silence whelhe returned
''WeIl, boy,shat are you thinking of ?''
asked Mr.. Oxly
Il WAC lining how nice ie must be TO
have lots of n1oy!'' Answered truthful
Harry
You are YOU, 10 sing that song, but it s
true as gospel Money is a nice thingm
HAIRY was a apo4i boy that evening as
he showed his nAer the guerdon of his
day labor. "a
Only see-fisen cents, and he only
promised me shiing but he said [ had
earned it, and thatte wouldn't begrudge a
cent of it.
Mrs. Morton kissd Harry, while Char
ley, standing on tipoe to eye the fifteen
cents, regarded his Iother as a capitalist
Mrs. Oxley's brigl kitchen looked even
brighter than usual, ssher husband came
in out of the frosty srlight to the CLEAN
Of blazing chestnut les and the steady
! glow Of the big lamp the mantel. The
evening board was dulypread With white,
new bread. crisp honeycab, swelling over
with golden liquid, butteas yellow as dan
; delion, and the fragrant scss of thiuly cut
ham, in which the farmer; soul delighted,
while a brown cone of ot ginge bread
smoked in the centre
Il heard you coming sd Mrs. Ozley,
Come, sit down. A cup # hot tea will
take the frost out of you"
Mr.. Oxley sat down to the yening meal,
thinking, for the ninety y-nins thousand h
time, what good wife he had.
And what luck?" demandeethe comel
matron, cutting off a section of yerfowins
honeycomb for her husbands plas.
We'll, sold all the apples-got gooc
} prices for 'em, too, and contracted for TIVE
hundred pounds of butter, and"
Did you get the money for ny ne'
dress ?'
Yes"
Farmer Oxley laid down his knife an'
fork, aud began searching in his pocket 70
the little Savings Bank" book. II mus
have left it in my overcoat pocket" H
rose up to look for it 'Stange, where ca
it be?''
Dear me, John, 1 hope you have nc
lost it,"
Lost 1t no, of course not; where ahoui
| lose it? Give me the lantern and III G
; and take look into the wagon. Mike ha
not put it up yet"
But the lantern and the look were alike
vain. No Savings Bank book appeared.
''Rebacca, said the farmer ''you ma
depend upon it that young scapegrace ha
stolen 1.-THE boy | told you about
My dearl" demonstrated charitable Mrs
Oxley.
Il tell you he hasl" ragged Mr.. Oxley
''and I'll have the money back or have hin
in jail l was a fool to believe in his smoot
speeches. They're bad set, and l hav
thought so all along. Give me my hat, Ike
becca I'll go down there at once. "
The little supper of hasty pudding an
milk was on the table at the stone cottage
and Mrs Morton and her two little boys
after having made the Pickering ireligb
last As long as possible, had just lighted TIL
one tallow candle that shed faint circle @
brightness round the room, when thun