Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1872-06-13
MY UNCLE'S WILL.

'" NO need ofyou learning trade, SAID
my father. "Stick to your books like n
Brton, and who knows but what you
may yet do without any trade at all, A
life at the bench is poor affair at the
best; nothing but work day in and day out,
and what do you get for it in the end ?
A crust of bread, a few rags on your
back, and a narrow box to wind up with"
My fathers words Disconnected me.
Was this true Of a life at the bench ?
Was this all workingman's life? Did
neither independence nor the glory of ex-
ceiling, offer any reward to the poor human
machine?
Although | was nearly eighteen, am
afraid that the tears stood in my eyes, as
replied with an effort at being respect,
full: "The trade will do me no harm,
father, even should uncle John see fit to
leave me anything when he dies"
Leave you anything" cried my
mother, Indignantly. "Didn't he tell me
years ago that his will was made, and
that he had left you all he possesscdW
Much more in the same strain said my
father and mother; but I was not con-
vinced.
burned to learn trade.
A peep into foundry seemed to me
like glance into fairy land, and the notes
of q young musicians first composition
were never sweeter to him than was the
din of boiler shop to me.
Looking back now in my old age, ! can
see the reason for my great warmth, al
though I failed to see it then. As usual,
there was girl in the case.
Katie Iall-dear little Katie, my school
mate, with the cherry lips and sweet,
modest eyes-had a father who owned
boiler shop and large foundry, which
latter daily seemed to send forth roar of
contempt against every young man who
did not learn a trade. The foundry, in
all probability, accomplished other work,
but to my fevered imagination this was
its chief occupation.
My parents were English, who had
emigrated "to the land of the free and the
home of the brave" when l was but three
years old consequently my education had
been thoroughly American, and although
my rich uncle had promised to make me his
heir, did not care to waste my youth in
"waiting for dead mems Shoes which
in nine cases out of ten are never worth
the wearing.
Fortunately for my purpose, was an
only child, and / determined never to
give my parents a moments rest till | had
accomplished my purpose. They are dead
and gone now, and say it with bitter
regret, that | was not as tilial as | might
have been.
"Oh, go to the foundry if you must"
cried my father in rage, "and may you
get your fill of it before three months are
over. III put you under that old Tartar,
old Hall, and you don't come whimper-
ing back to us in week, my name isn't
Joe Bartlett"
could hardly contain my joy.
To be put under her father without
an effort, Why, 1t was the very thing
| had been running my head against for
the last year.
Fearful of delay, | caused my father
to wait upon Mr.. Hall at once. The
preliminaries were arranged without trou-
bic, and entered that gentleman S
shop, as an apprentice to boiler making
before the week was out.
My father was only a cabinet maker,
remember, yet my mothers pride was so
deeply wounded at the bare thought of
her son coming home with a black face
and soled clothes, that she wept bitterly.
But spite OF all Encouragement, | did
not go whimpering back to them in q
year, much less week, so a suspicion
arose in my mind that my fathers name
could not possibly be Joe Bartlett, al
though every one called him so. All
was not sunshine with me, although |
stuck to my trade as I had never done
to my books, but the trials l then met
and overcame served to make ofme that
which it was the height of my ambition
to be-a true man.
A peep into the foundry was still fairy
land to me, but the machine shop was
little noisy at times, and the talk of a few
rough fellows rather grating; but | tried
hard to keep my integrity free from the
crime about me, which is harder thing
to do, covered with dirt from morning
TIL night, than your nice, clean gentle
folks may think.
Mr.. Hall began to notice met is use
less to say did rot see it, for did-and
one day he proposed that | should take
otfmy dirty clothes and so into the office
as permanency.
Now this was great temptation, for
whenever Katie came to the works she
of course came only to her fathers office,
and if was there she might see that her
old schoolmate was Ain short very
amiable young man.
| hesitated and Mr.. Hall said
:" 1t will be little more seemly occupa-
ton for you, as |, understand that you
will one day fall heir to large English
property"
81 came here to learn a trade, SIR" l
said respectfully, "and not to be clerk.
AS regards my fortune, this is all look
to-" holding out my grimy hands.
To my establishment, Mr.. Hall clapped
me on the back so heartily that he nearly
knocked the breath out of me, as he re-
Piled:
"Thats the talk, young fellow! I
started in life with the same resolution
myself, and I'll not forget YOU"
| knew he would keep his word, for a
master cannot forget his best man, and
this strove to be. Whatever under
took I exerted all my powers upon, and
if my fellow workmen were at times
little jealous, they could not help, at
least, respecting my open conduct.
was barely out of my time when was
made foreman over the whole works, and
had occasion to be frequently at Mr.. Halls
house 1t was then that l began to ex
perience the reward of my indefatgable
labor, for there constantly met my little
Katie, with the sweet and modest eyes.
We understood one another before long,
thonph nm sure I don't know how. we