Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1869-01-15

Fast through the dmglc we follow the Jlhgie,
And a fig for the fellows who doze by the inge
When life goes leapiug along the snow
orr Boys and Girts-
SUNDAY 4 CENTURY AGO.
An old brown leather-coyercd book, the
leaves yellow, the writing scarcely legible,
from time and decay; evidently an old neg
lerted Ms. To the fire or to my private shelf?
which,
These were my reflections as looked over
the rarers of my late uncle, the rector Of a
Somersetshre village
liked the look OF the book and decided for
the shelf: and had my reward, for found
in the Grabbed characters simI lie story, e'l-
IDENTIFY written towards the clo-e OF the writ
er's lite. This story / shall now transcribe
into a more modern style.
e. He'll be fit for nothing, said my father;
ian awkward boJhy who holds hIs awl and
cuts hi, food with his left hand.
50 said my father, and so, alas | felt. !
r-as awkward ! was fifteen thick-set,
strong. but terribly clumsy. ! could not
make collar, nor sew pair of blinkers, nor
stuff saddle, nor do anything | ought TO be
todo. Nv fingers seemed to have no mechan-
]
knew it. and all knew.
I was good-tempercd. could write fairly.
and read anything. hat was awkward with
my limbs; they seemed TO have wills Of their
own. and vet / could dance as easily and as
lightly a- any ofmy neighbJr, sons.
"I don't know what he's fiji for, said my
father To the rector of a parish. " I've set
him 70 carpenterug, and be cuts his finger
nearly of with an axe; then he went TO the
smith, and burnt his hands till he was laid
up for q month It's all Of no use; he spoils
me more good leather 10 a week than his
earnings pay for in a month. Why cannot
he, like other Christians. use his hands as
the good God meant him too? There look
at him now. cutting that back strap for the
squire with his left hand
| heard him the knife slipped. and the
long strip of leather was divided in a NOM
ent and utterly spoiled.
.sThere now look at that \ piece out
Of the very middle Of the skin, and his finger
gashed into the bargain
The rector endeayo-ed 10 s1othc my father.
anger, while bandaged my finger
You'd better let him come up for that
vase, Mr.. Walters; should like a case TO
fit it, for it's very fragile. as all that old ltal
ian glass l.; and hneirwith the softest leath-
er, please.
And SO went with the rector to bring
back the vase, taking two cham0is feathers
TO bring j. in.
We reached the house, and waited in the
passage while he went 10 fetch it. lie came
back with large vase, tenderly wrapped in
the feathers Alas At that moment there
came from the room, against the door Of
which / was standing. the sound of a voice
singing. 4 voice that thrilled me through
"a voice hear now as write these lines,
so clear, 80 sweet. so pure, it was rs if an
angel had revealed itself 70 me
uembled, and forgot the precious burden
in ny hands it dropped to the ground and
was shattered to pieces.
How shall describe the rect0r's rage?
fear he said something for which he would
have blushed in his calmcr moments, and she
came ont.
She who had tie angel-yoice-his neice-
came out, and I saw her | forgot the DIS
aster, and stood seechles-ly gazing at her face.
'' You awkward scoundrell look at your
work. Thirty pounds Fifty pounds An
invaluable treasure gone irrepaably in mo-
nent. Why did you drop it?''
drop it, | said, waking up. Drop
what?' And then it flashed upon me again,
and ! stammered out ''she sangi"
"a And if she did sing. was there any occa-
sion to drop my beautiful vase, YOU doubly
stupid blockhead There, 90 out Of the
house, do, before Won do any further mis-
chief. and tell your father to horsewhip YOU
for a STUPID dor. ''
said nothing. did nothing, but only look
ed at her face and went stumbling away, a
changed and altered being. There was a
world where h0rse-c0llars and horse shoes,
lemons and mortises, right hands or left, en-
tered not. That world had seen: had
breathed its air and heard IT. voices.
My father heard Of my misfortune, and
laid the strap across my shoulders without
hesitation, for in my young days boys were
boys till eighteen or nineteen years Old.
bore it patiently, uncomplainingly.
" bat is he ft for ?'' every one would
ask, and none could answer. not even myself.
| wandered about the rectory in the summer
evenings and heard her sing. tried hard to
get the old gardener to let me help him carry
the watering-pots, and when / succeeded.
felt, as | entered the rect0rs garden, that |
was entering paradise. o happy months
when, after the horrible labors Of the weary
day, | used to follow the old gardener, and
hear her sing. Ny old withered heart beats
fuller and freer when the memory comes back
to me now.
Alas Alas my awkwardness again ban
ished me. She met me one evening in the
garden, as | WAS coming along the path with
my cans full Of water, and spoke to me
" cure the boy that broke the vase
| did not, could not reply, nv strength
forsook me. dropped nv cans ON m,
ground where they upset and flooded away il
a moment some seeds on which the rector sci
most especial store.
q. How awkward, u be sure - she exclaim
ed. a. And how angry uncle will be"
| turned and fed. and from that time tn
rcctory gate was closed against me.
led a miserably unhappy life for the mex
three years: | had only one consolation du
ring the whole of that weary time. saw
her at church and heard her sing there.
could hear nothing else when she sang, clea
and distinct, above the confused nasal sound
that came from the voices of others,
alone pure, sweet, and good. 1t was bless
ed time would not miss a Sundays ser
vice in church for ali that might offer. Three
good miles every Sunday there and back die
heavily plod to hear her and feel well re
wardei. | shared her joys and heaviness.
knew when she was happy, when oppressed
as mother knows the tones of her child,
voice, to the minotest shade Of difference, Sc
could tell when her heart was sad and when
light
One Sunday she sang as never vet heard
her, not loudly, but SO tenderly, so lovingly
knew the change had come,-she loved il
thrilled in her voice; and at the evening SER
wee he was there. saw him. A soldier.
knew by his bearing, with cruel. hard. gray
eyes and She sang, ! knew it, detected a
temble and gratitude in the notes. felt
Iue was to suffer, as had suffered not that
~hg. had no voice. A harsh, cultural
Ig soun9 was all could give utterance to.
NV oIil 1Wh.stle like bird, and often and often
.nd 5e ;l. IAN Tor hours in the shade Of a tree
yolhea the concerts of the woods.
One oAy was whistling, as was nv wont
event went through the street, when wa,
III On the shoulder by an old man, The
'OOief oi the next parish. knew him from