Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1871-09-19
stlttt storp.
THE FARMERS STORY

I've seen YOU sit on the fence, sit writ.
ing in that little book. thought perhaps
you might be writing poetry. \ good
many folks come down here Of summer,
aud make poetry about the sheep and the
moon. Peggy reads em out TO me in the
paper, aud the stories, too, sir. Do YOU
write stories? Yes ? Well, that's a gift.
If | had it, | think | could make out one
about what has happened to me. Peggy
says it could be done.
Now it is al! plain sailing, nothing out
Of the common; but | wasn't always a
well.to-do farmer. Once was farm
er's boy-a hand-with nothing but a
stout heart, and strong limbs, and good
health.
Many's the night when the stars were
in the sky, | used to 90 out to the great
pasture where the sheep browsed all day,
and sit and think thoughts | had no words
for, and make beautiful pictures for my
self in my mind-not fine ones, sir This
is what | see the oftenest: A cottage
and wide fireplace, such as they had in
my day, dresser with row of def up
on it, four chairs and a table Of pine
When | had these | was to marry Peggy
Grey. But when | should have them, and
see her white wedding gown and the house
linen, neither Of us knew
She put her sixpences into red earth.
en savings bank; and | kept mine in an
old glove. For two years We We're wait
ing aud hoping, aud were not much near
er than at first. Sometimes | felt down
hearted. Sometimes her letters were a
bit sad. And just as sat in the meadow
| knew she sat before the kitchen h:e in
the house where she lived at service
Simple folks We were, but We had hearts,
and she felt US deeply as greater folks
might.
Ny master, the farmer, was close
man. He squeezed as much work out Of
his hands as possible But it was steady
place, and he paid all he promised; so
staid, never thinking what trouble staying
would bring TO me, trouble that never
would have come but for Mark Hulker
4 good-for-nothing fellow he was--a dis.
grace to the rest OF Us, and he cheated
the master and left his work undone. Sc
after hours master set me at his stint, and
it being indoors / kept at it all night
All the better for me; l thought he would
pay me extra, and what was weariness TO
me, if it only brought me nearer to my
Peggy? So | counted the hours worry
as so many shillings. But when Saturday
night came he only just gave me my just
weeks work.
Master" said |, Il have worked over
hours every night; you forgot that"
''I hire you by the week." he said
"rll give you no more than one week.
wages. So if you don't like it there are
plenty Of strong lads to be had; you ar,
growing lazy"
Then he turned his back Oh me, ant
Mark laughed. That angered me, anc
words fell from my lips. We had a quar-
rel, master and l, and | called him "nig
gardly old rascal" and with that he dis.
missed me from his service.
AT dawn you 60" said he. You'v
worked to-day, and have right to your
bed at night, but at dawn you 60"
marched out OF the room with word
| never should have used, and up to ny
garret and threw myself on the bed. Blu
| did not mean to stay to be turned out
At midnight l rose softly, made up /
bundle, and climbed out of window.
cut my hands with the glass of a broker
pane, and blood dripped down upon my
clothes. But was too angry to feel th'
pain; and bound up the wound with /;
handkerchief Then trudged on, mean
ing to look for work the next day. So
did, but found none. Then the though
struck me to make my way to -, an'
see Peggy. 1t would be comfort to me
whatever came. So turned my steps IL
that direction, and kept on until night
fall. Then faint and weary laid me dowl
under some bushes and fell asleep.
Out of that sleep | was aroused b.
the clutch of strong hands. Men stoo'
about me. One shouted my name. The.
held me fast and bound me.
| struggled, but it was no use. Mum
bers were against my single strength.
What are your Robbers 7 Iv
nothing worth the taking" | said, at last
and, when standing still, | saw faces
knew, about me-those of the farm hand
at my masters.