Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1870-11-16
EY PBIVATE SCHOOL.

Look al that - cried my grandmother,
striking an attitude worthy of Lady Mac
beth, when she addressed the fatal spot on
her hand this time, however, it was only
the scissors which. in falling, sto7i upright
in the floor
Il see. It's nothing uncommon, is it?"
Did you ever know it to happen that a
stranger didn't come before the day was
out?"
Il never noticed; some59dy was always
coming, for the matter of that"
Il tell you that sign don't fail, -(my
grandmother always used double negatives,
when she meant to be empha,ic1 most
others viii, bur that's true as a book And
another thing, there was stranger in my
tea to night, long ona-that shows It's a
man that's comm. Some folks set a great
deal by ihas sign; but it amt to be men-
toned the same day with the scissors stand
ing up in the floor
Il hope he will come soon, or the storm
will be here before him." and with the
words the wind went wailing around the
house. and the fist big drops beat against
the window pa1es.
Three score years and ten had not taken
the first bloom from the romance of my
crlnimother's character; it was fresh and
green as in her girlhood. Beggars heard Of
A"ratar off and raj 10 fall on the neck Of
-lr charity.
She followed the advice Of Lamb Without
'7er having heard Of it. When the poor
'reatpre came before her she stayed not to
inquire whether the seven small children"
N whose name he implored her assistance
had verltable existence, but cast her bread
upon the waters and lived in faith.
IL fact she had cast SO much bread upon
the water in the course of her long life and
so snail proportion had come back to her,
tat she had nothing left for herself except
the old farm and the gambrel rooted house
Within its walls my father had first seen
the light and lived ill he went out to fight
the world. He fell early in the strife. and
ny mother soon followed him. but not un-
T.. aag had marked out my way in life and
50 4Eed me IN the groove OF her ideas that
i"ai no choice left. | went to village
academy till / was old enough 20 enter the
Normal School, fog my destiny was to be
aioacher. My little income had to be eked
out IN soale way; and Of all work to which
woman mag turn her hand, school, per
hap, divide, the burden most equally be
tween DO iy and mind.
hen graduated my grandmother left
the Old gambrel roof to see me do it, aud
carried me home with her for breathing
spell as she saidl, before getting i place
10 teach
A. to my future | was neither happy nor
unhappy but rather between. At twenty,
-..s runs on with very little friction there
Is excitement enough in mere youth to make
"'.1I pleasure.
Ihe evening drew On with ever increasing
gusts Of wind, and the old house shook to
rs Loundation, but it clung calamity to the
great central chimney, which, being nearly
as broad as 1t was high, could afford to be
Indifferent when wind and weather came
together and made night of it.
/ hope you don't mean to sit up for that
somebody who is coming. All signs fail in
Vet weather"
4he words were scarcely spoken when we
heard the tread of horse running at full
speed down the steep hill above the house,
'nen crash Of the fence and all was still.
We held our breath and listened. Soon
man step sounded low and heavy on the
walk and my grandmother rushed TO open
the door
Don't be scarf. said the familiar voice
one OF our neighbors, and he stumbled