Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1869-02-26
Some Boy Fancies.

WIS sure pULEio WHICH w SHOulu De,
farmer, e-keeper or a stage driver
The last honorable business had the pre-
ference in our mind. Yet there were
days when the other named pursuits
strongly urged their attractions. We re-
flected, that if a farmer, we should not
have to drive the cows to and from pas
lures, but should have a boy to DO it for
us; we should have men to work under
us, and not, as then, be ourselves obliged
to work under them. We could rest
when we pleased, and no one could scold
us. In short, the attractions of a farm
ing life were manifold.
But, however attractive, we never re
turned from an Grand down town with
out feeling our preferences shaken. A
store was to our young eyes mystery of
sights and sweets Alb, to be store
keeper, put my fingers whenever pleas.
ed, into the candy jar, or peppermint
drawer Ito eat raisins or figs every
day Ito go behind the counter wheu-
ever chose, and to open drawers, and
to look under the counter, which was al
ways place of imaginary treasures !
Besides-but this was secret and enyi.
Gus thought might, by using poma-
tum, and by diligence with brush and
glass, become as smooth and pretty as
that dashing clerk, Jim Velvettop -
All, if my brown face and fat cheeks on
ly would look as handsome as his smooth
face But of that l despaired every
time looked into the little glass that
served purposes of humility in my bed
room. Yes, a merchant | would be.
But one ripping blast on the stage
horn put all these iancies to an utter rout.
There came the stage-full of passen-
gers; baggage behind, and piled on top;
Hiram Barnes in the drivers seat; corr
duroy breeches on, low-crowned jaunty
hat; III his hand the four reins, and in
the other the whip, whose long lash was
perfectly enchanting to my boyhood. al.
ways excepting the occasions wlen it
was swung around to give a "cit be
hind" But oh that final dash Of the
team Every horse had saved up lit
tie steam. and on coming round the cor
ncr, the pace which had been sparkling
before, burst into q royal run, rounding
up before the tavern in style that cap
tivated every body of the least SPIRIT
No others might be farmers and mer-
chants, but our mind was made up, and
a stage-driver We would be +! Nor was
the charm lost, when, on going TO-
ward home, we passed Mr.. Parker's stage
barns, and saw the smoking horses uLdcr
Ulysses FreemaD's hands (Cato and
Candace were his parents) while driver
Hiram summed himself with all the su
perb airs of dandy Of the barn-yard |!
1t was too much it was too much =
Why were some men born to luck, anI
others to luckless seclusion ? Here were
these happy fellows living among horses,
driving whenever they pleased-the ad
miration Of all the boys 10 town; while
| shut UP in the door yard, only let out
to drive the COWS, run of errands, Or
saddest Of all, 60 to seemed
doomed to spirltlcss life !
Yet, it is not to be supposed, young as
we were, that we really believed that a
stage driver was the happiest mortal
alive. We had enough discernment to
know that militia captain, all in his
brightest regimentals," was higher
and happier being than even stage dri
yer. But such position we never dared
covet in the most unreasonaLly magma
tive hour. We should as soon have as
pired to be star. 1t was too much to
look upon And when once we had
seen Captain Buel in his glorious appa
rel. he from that hour became a being
apart from all humanity. 1t is true, that
be came 20 meeting like the rest of the
townspeopIc, and that he drove an OK
sled in winter, and farmers wagon in
summer--but, not bis old straw hat, nor
his brown tow dress, could SO disguise
him, that we did not see blazing through
their disguise, TIE remembered glory Of
lis captains suit
Well. we missed pretty much every
youthful aspiration. We did not learn
farming; we failed 10 own store; we
missed a stage drivers seat, and of course
never became captain. Are we not
all children, in our relations to the great
Manhood Of an After-iie Are we not
eagerly admiring seeming realities that
will vet turn to baubles {? Do we look
back on our boyhood and smile at our
childish fancies and shall we not here.
after smile again at the equally foolish
fancies of greater childishness in the
long struggles of later life I'll w.
Reecher.
MANS SHoRrcoMINGs.-Man is won
derful creature, but if he equalled the
beasts, birds, and insects, in their own