Wyandot County Republican. [volume] (Upper Sandusky, Ohio) 1869-1903, 1872-11-14
SALTING THE SHEEP-A TRUE
STORY.
BY ALICE ROBBINS.

Mother" called Susy Lane, as she ran
out upon the porch, '.you said 1 might
churn next time"
"Did Il" asked Mrs. Lane, as she
paused a moment.
"Yes, you truly did. Don't you re-
member last churning dayf"
"Why, yes. believe did promise
you something of the kind. / wish YOU
could; but Pm afraid you are too small"
but I'm strong. Strong as-as any,
thingl Just see my arms, how big and
fat they arep'
''rm afraid you'll churn little while,
and then want to play. If you begin,
you must go through. You mustn't stop
only minute or two, to rest"
81 won't even stop to rest" cried Susy.
why, twon't tire me a single bit, l
know. 1 can race longest of ali the other
girls; they get out of breath. You Just
see now.h And Susy rolled up her
sleeves, displaying chubby pink-and-
white arms.
Her mother had settled the churn in a
charming place. The wide-drooping
limbs of magnificent elm shaded a
beautiful green Knoll, that inclined very
gently to the sheep-meadow To the
right stood the old-fashionsd farmhouse,
which had just been treated to coat of
white paint; but the long, sloping gable
roof still rejoiced in its ancient suit of
gray, frightened with moses, yellow and
green. To the left, in the far distance,
rolled ariver, charmingly blue and bright,
from whose borders field after field
stretched onward to the hills, on which a
hundred cows and more were feed
ing from the short, fresh grass.
Not far from the house stood the
old brown barn. OH such a barn
where the puffiest of golden chicks fol-
lowed the stateliest of motherly hens |;
where the air was always redolent of
sweet clover and well-dried hay where
there were bins for apples and hiding
places for winter pears, and queer, cosy
corners, where the dried straw was warm
with great pearls of eggs; and where all
the time long, slanting sunbeams, filled
with sparkling notes, crept in at unseen
crevices and glorifed the homely old in
terror. Susy had met with good many
adventures in that barn. She had fallen
from the loft, and might have been killed
but for the soft, heaped hay some hand
had spread, unconscious that to its friend
ly thickness little child would owe her
life. Old Short Horn had kicked her
once, and she still bore the scar. Jan,
leaving her asleep there not year before,
had carelessly fastened the door; and
poor little Susy, waking up in the dark
ness, had been frightened nearly out of
her senses. While the people at the
house were searching for her in all sorts
of far-out-of-the-way places, until at last
slow thinking, thick-skulled Jan, the new
German "hand," recollected that he had
seen her asleep in the hay. Poor little
Susy, she scarcely remembered the fail,
or the wound that Short Horn made but
the recollection of that dark, dreadful
night, when it seemed as if all the world
had forsaken her, was always vividly
present to her child mind
curls, thinking how long they had grown
since the last birth day; then placed her
in a comfortable position and left her.
Remember, you are not to stop till it
is DONE" she said, with warning finger
ubheld, as she went her way.
o "Course, shan't," Susy responded,
full of the importance of her new under
taking. "Cynthy Ransom's great deal
older than / am" she continued, soto
uoce "and she never churned in her
whole life. She told me SO. 1 'spect
mother IL set me to working butter n
making cheese next ! Oh dear" She
drew a long breath and looked round.
How lovely the day was and did ever
grass look greener or river bluer? There
was little boat hidden by the rushes
down by the pretty winding river. 'I'll
go sail 1t just as soon's ever I'm done" }"
said Susy, churning away. "Wonder
how long mother haves to churn," she
cause she gets done long fore dinner. i
guess her arms is strongest. sides, she's
taller N me; I'm SO little. There, now,
my arms ache. 1 guess I'll breathe
again" She stopped, leaned her ell
bows on the top of the churn, aud gazed
again at the landscape.
"'Taint so nice to churn butter as TO
sail boats,n she said, looking longingly at
the river. 'tDo wish this butter'd come.
There there's the old pail. 1 can be
taller on that" And, suittng tire action
to the word, she mounted on the pail,
which she turned bottom up, and began
churning again. The action was exhil-
iratlng, now she was so far up: and she
soon commenced not only to churn with
more vehemence, but to take steps on the
pail, whose uneven sides aided her in her
new attempt to work and dance at the
same time.
"Susy, you'll have that churn over"
her mother cried, standing in front of the
house. "Stop jumping about So"
Susy stopped, calling out that the but
ter had most come, she knew; and, as
soon as her mother went back into the
house, commenced dancing again. The
motion was SO enlivening, the air so fresh
and fragrant, what little girl could resist
such fun What jumps she gave, what
fiourishes made, how the churn-handle
dashed and spluttered, sending the milk
in white foam out at the top and sidesl
Susy's glee increased every moment. The
figure she cut on that creaking old bucket
cannot begin to describe. Happy and
full of frolic, she gyrated and leaped, and
all but turned somersaults; when woefol
one unlucky little mis-step on the edge o.
the pail Down went the pail, down
went Susy, and down went the churn
end down they kept going, rolling ovel
and over, churn, pail, and Susy, till a.
the end of the declivity they were mixed
| in a curious confusion, butter and butter
milk, churn, pail and poor Susy.
/ OF course, Susy screamed as soon a;
they stopped. And Susy's mother was
there in twinkling, with bit OF
switch in her hand.
| "Didn't tell you to stop dancing, you
naughty, naughty girl r' exclaimed Mrs
Lane, warm from the fire and angry at the
sight. "Now, here's the butter spoiled
the churn cracked, and the pail broken.
And down came the switch lightly on
Susy's chubby arms.
"ThereI Now you'll churn again in
hurry, guess"