Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1873-08-07
The Value of a Good Trade.

WE had a man moving our door-yard
yesterday. | watched him pretty closely
for fear he would snip off my rose-bushes
| put my shawl on and sat on the grass,
and pretended l was keeping him compa-
ny. He is man of good sense, and he
said a great many sensible things. | re-
marked that moving must be his trade,
he did it so well, and made such nice
work
"Heh,n he shifted; "I'm Jack of all
trades and master of none. I can do most
anything that | take hold off, and he
leaned over and shaved the grass neatly
from about snarl of rose-bushes, a beau
tiful tangle that I couldn't prune for very
tenderness Of heart.
"Oh, thank you" | said 'you did that
as kindly as mother would dress her
babe. Any other man would have said
Here's dead branch, Miss Potts. or,
'Yon is useless shoot; or, That bush
yander is a-sufferin' for the knife It's
my BUSH you see, and | want it to grow as
wild, and ranting, and riotous, and just as
extravagantly as it pleases. / don't care
if it leaps as high as thetop Of the house., y
said I, good deal excited
"Well, I'carcalate that it would be the
2,
it's we'll enough to let natur' have her own
way, just to see what all she can do when
she takes notion. If | was a reg'lar
gardener, | s'pOse | would have attacted
that bush whether or no. | often wish
father had aprrenticed me to that trade
poor man, he's been dead an gone this
many long year: he was a good father,
and | don't find it in my heart to bring up
"a ~ ni i'm. ~, ho
leaned on the handle of the scvthe in a
comfortable sort Of way. But Miss
Potts, think it's every mans duty to give
his boys trades When father died he left
a farm of one hundred and sixty acres
there was mother, and we three grown
boys, and the two little girls, and Johnny,
and grandmother. Well, we couldn't all
have the farm, and we couldn't any more
than make a good living, and pay the
preacher and the taxes, and school the
children, and meet an occasional doctors
bill; and so Jack and I talked it over one
night, and though it did seem a little
hard, we resolved, fore God an ourselves,
that we'd give up all right and claim to
the old farm to Tom, our oldest brother.
if he'd care for mother and the children.
and do the part Of dutiful son and
brother. 1t did seem kind O. hard, strik-
in out to do for ourselves, two green bows
who'd always been cared for. Jack'd al
ways wanted more larnin', he never was
satisfied, and so he went away to school
to shift for himself as he best could. Well,
he worried along somehow, until now he
is qualified to teach-he teaches in the
winter and goes to school in the summer.
I'd taken shine to Milly Brown-she
was modest little hard -workin' creetur-
and so we concluded to marry and help
each other along. We never regretted it;
and though | don't own a foot o land,
and have no trade, we have always man
aged so that we never had to endure much
privation. Be sure I've had to wear patch
upon patch, an Milly's had to turn her
dresses bottom end up, an t'other side
out; we've got along grandly.
But Miss Potts, it's just as much as |
can do to stand up an feel myself man
among men. | amt an independent man
I've no trade. To-day | NOW your yard ;
tomorrow / help Farmer Hutchins move
his smohe-house; the next day | pillow
corn for Jack Williams; maybe the next
I'll make a chimney in Ephraim's kitchen,
or elevate grain in Taylor's warehouse, or
haul coal for Caster, or make pavement
on Milk street, or weed somebody's gar
round for Tom, Dick an Harry, some
times getting paid, and sometimes only
paid in worthless promises. Why, very
often | work half a day for a man and
he'll say, III do you a good turn, some
time, Wilson, or, its mighty nice thing
to be as handy man as you are, George.
"No, Miss Potts, I'm not free mani
am bOndsman, | wear shackles, an here
I've family comm on, promisin' boys
and girls, an I'm afraid I'll not be able to
do my whole duty by 'em. God helpin
me mean to give every boy o mine q
good trade, anyhow; maybe my girls, too
When Bower broke up and had to sell his
farm and move to town, | just spoke right
up before | thought. | said, Bower,
said |, now you can't do better thing
than to apprentice Ned and Timothy to
trades. You don't want to live in town
aud have two big idle boys trifling away
their time Don't do as my father did
don't let 'em ever feel as though YOU had
not done all fathers duty You can
have Ned learn the timers trade, and lei
lin be a mason, or plaSterer, or a
COOPER an what does neighbOr Bower
do but up and get mad, an tell me to mind
my own business, an that he was capable
of lookin' after his own family.
well, to-day, those Bower boys are
like me, going iobbing round wherever
they can get hands turn to do. | think
it is a shame for man to bring poor
children into this world and not do q
fathers duty by them, just leave them to
shift for themselves, crippled, shackled
hobbled, wings clipped, and not feeling
that they belong to the class Of men who
are free and brave and bold, and who can
standEup and look the world in the face
and feel themselves no mans inferior.
That was a nice thing, sensible, too,
that Esquire Hamilton did last week
His youngest son, Ralph, don't like to
go to schools dull about learning-it is
drudgery to him, and SO, with his Owl
consent, his father bound him to the
blacksmith's trade My! what growth
that boy'll get. He is pretty hearty now