Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1873-06-11

supper.
" Father, I've mind to cut into a ham.
1t is sharp to day he may have an edge
on his appetite" "Wel, Amy, if you'll
brlle it; otherwise faint worth while to
cut into whole ham,
"See here now. My ounce jelIy-I
believe you have not forgotten the taste of
that. Besides, they tell me it is sovereign
good to clear the throat, Singing school
tonight, you know.
Talking about a Tacktown band, they
be. Where's my old fiddle ?"
"Shoo, old man.
Il" was going on to say" added old
Martin, testify, "when you must needs
put your oar in-that Martin might like
" No, indeed; he is going to blow on
something-an ofglide, 1 think he said"
"Why, they had 'em in London as thick
as blackberries, blowing away at one time.
man and boy, like-anything"
Now, father, said the cunning Amy,
t" Martin might not like to hear of their
beng so plenty; for says he to me, Moth
er, L don't know what folks will say when
my instrument comes from Boston -
" You don't say" answered old Martin,
delighted. "Oi course it won't do to say
a word; and mind your eye, old woman
clack is clack.'
But the next day old Martin was af-
tlcted with another mystery, which broke
boil when the stage-driver handed from
his box huge bundle in green flannel to
Martin, who was in waiting. 1t contain
ed an ophicleide--a dreadful instrument
but 1t filled old Martins soul with awe and
delight.
) What ails you, father ?" asked young
Martin. " You look as if you had catched
something"
"Do let it out, Martin"
| And Martin did, as full of secret delight
as his father was of noisy rejoicing.
The band was formed, and after a sum-
mer's practice it played one quickstep, a
march, and Fishers hornpipe it then
; went into severe winter quarters, to learn
; cotillon music. 1t was sight to behold
young Martin with his ophiceide as he
was slight, pale creature, the effect re-
minded one of a little girl toting a big
5 doll. He was very Industrious with his
practice, playing off nights at home, in his
little room upstairs. The groans of the
l instrument were fearful Its boom was so
dreadful to Amy that she tied thick
handkerchief over her ears. pretending she
had the earache; but old Martin was game
!. to the backbone; he kept time with a
triumphant mien, although he could not
i tell one tune from another. Amy mott ced
that he was apt to 60 to bed in a hurried
= way on the nights young Martin played at
e home, and, contrary to his wont, buried
) ! bis head beneath his bedclothcs, which
t preceding made him snore so that one
l night, Amy, driven wild, exclaimed, " VIII Y
father, you beller like the off-pigs, and |
wish you wouldn't"
1t seemed to her then as if the bed
clothes shook-or was it the vibration of
the wall for that night it was dreadful
'' storm and stress" period with young NJ ar
tin. He was overcoming "Hulfs Vic
tory ~ From the window outside he was
watched by a pair of lrreverent young
, persons, who gave him up for lost, declar
1 ing him to be hoored, after some involun
tary escape of sound Little did he know
who was outside. The girl he adored. but
P of whom he had no hope-Matilda North
e wood, the tallest girl in Tacktown, with a
brilliant complexion, an aquiline nose
e bright dark eyes, clear voice, and @
i gay laugh; violent contrast to him every
r way. She was the daughter of rich
farmer, who lived on Tacktown Neck
three miles from the village, so secluded a
' place that when Matilda came up to the
y Shore, as the village was called, she ieIt
IS metropolitan excitement; there was 8
s zeal in the church h-going and singing school
and stray lecture, or a dance, was JUS
s absolute satisfaction. Young Martin hac
20 always known her, or thought so, till sh
IS burst in upon all his awakened senses one
Te night at the singing school but he had new
Ir er addressed word to her. She knew
IN him quite as well, and had never bestowe,
$ thought upon him,-but many a laugh
s and alas. did he not know, she was nov
laughing at him, Edgar Willis was witt
lie her, and making himself witty at youn|
" Martins expense. The house stood il
)! the angle of two streets there was
I'd yard in front, with picket fence round
;' it. The side street was a dark, crooked
2; road, with houses scattered along it, anC
is ending in broad field which had tina
I'd very afternoon been the scene of the per
er formance of travelling circus, attended b,
Matilda. The wagons were now loading
and from time to time one Of them thuu
r dered by, and turning the sharp corner b
he old Martins house, passed through tn
n main street fronting the harbor. and so ou
lg Of the village. There had been some fight
* ing among the men, and much savage
n- swearing over the heavy loading of tn
is wagons, till the proprietor, who happened
to be partially intoxicated, lost patience
in He struck with his whip at one of tn
lie drivers, who instantly jumped into his seat
n and swearing he would take no more on
at lashed his horses into gallop along tn
it road. The proprietor sprang into his bug
he gy, and dashed after him, with the inten
to tion OF stopping his wagon. Martin hear
Sc the noise, opened his window, and ran dow
on stairs. As short as the distance was be
nd tween the door and the gate of the littl
in yard, he never forgot the scene. The hal
bor below the street lay white in moor
he light, its silver sheet unruffled by singl
ad breeze. A wagon lurched round the corn
" er and rolled by. He heard scram, an
n. saw figure flying over the fence,-saf
I'D inside,-Eigar Willis,-then he saw
be buggy swaying toward him, and towar
d Matilda he cried out in terror, seized be
r.. in his arms and almost threw her over th
Tp fence toward Edgar. Then he picked u
ar the proprietor, who was thrown out, bu
i'm not near y so much injured as his carriag
q and horse were. Auny came to the doc
no in perturbation, and begged everybody
come right in, while old Martin, hard