Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1874-03-25
showed In-~An Incident of 1872.
BY MARTHA N. THOMAS.

Immediately can be there by eight or nine
O'Clock. The snow looks as though it nigh
be deep. | shall put Bob and Grey to tbC
sleigh, and take Jack with me-"
1t will be so lonely, and, somehow, !
wish you were not going"
The girl stopped aud opened the stove door
furtivey wiping her eyes with her apron
80 do /, Beckie, but must 90. am
Huston's principal witness, and should
feel very sorry if, for want of my testi-
mony, he should lose his farm"
81 know it is right, and should not
care so much if Jack would be here, but
81 shall stop at neighbor Giles and
Get Aunt Lizzie to come over she said she
would do so. Joe lis to bring her, and stay and
milk aud do the feeding while | am gone"
Beckie frightened up at this.
Let Jack get ready, while put some
wood and coal in the shed to be handy, then
| will take a bite and be off,
Mr.. Wilson was a New England man
who, finding some difficulty in making a liv.
ing out of his stony potato patch" as he
called the few acres he owned in his native
State, had emigrated to the West, and set
tied on one Of the rich prairies that there
abound lie had married a thrifty, active
girl, the daughter Of a neighboring farmer
and he now owned a large farm, with com.
Portable house and outhouses. His dwell.
ing was rather isolated, being some distance
from any travelled road.
His wife had died six months previous
leaving him with FIVE children. Jack, the
eldest, was turned of fourteen. Beckie was
in her thirteenth year James was ten
viii, eight; and the baby, girl, was seven
months old.
Since their mothers death, Beckie had
tried to supply her place to the other chill
dren. She had taken all the care Of the
baby, and was, as her father called her, a
" little mother" Mr. Wilson had been
summoned to the county town, as witness
on trial involving the ownership of q
friends farm, and although the weather was
stormy and cold, he felt that he must 60.
keep up the fires, Beckie,' he said,
while eating his pie; "there is wood and
coal enough in the shed to last until get
back, and take good care of Jamie and the
baby"
YES" she replied, adding " How it
does snow, and it has grown colderw
When they had started, Beckie stood
until they drove out of the yard, and the
curtain of fast-faliug snow almost hid
them from her sight.
81 never did see it snow so, she said to
Jamie. Il wish Joe would come--he is
such good company"
A silent hour passed, interrupted only by
Wills laugh, as he lay on the floor playing
with baby. Beckie began to feel uneasy, for
the short winter day was drawing to a close,
and neither Aunt Lizzie nor Joe had come.
Il have been watching the snow, Beckie
cannot sec the garden fence, the fakes
fall so thick, | hope father aud Jack will
be safe" said Jamie, as he stepped into the
sitting-room to get the broom. She had
gone into the shed for something, and was
surprised at the depth of the snow She
went to the window and looked out.
There was not a goose nor duck to be
seen The chickens had been driven from
under the lilac bushes where they usually
took refuge in a storm.
Again she wished Aunt Lizzie aud Joe
would come She began to feel a sort OF
dread, too and was a little frightened at the
aspect of things. Every moment the storm
increased 10 violence Outside things were
buried in the snow. \ gloom was creeping
over the whole landscape. She could
scarcely distinguish objects she knew to be
ouly a few yards distant.
She opened the door again, and went out
into the she'd As she did so, she heard
the favorte COW, Crumpie, lowing, give a
long, low below.
"She is at the cow-house door and wants
to get IT," she said to herself; al will
milk her, for Joe may not come, and baby
must have her supper"
She took down an old coat Of her father.
and buttoned herself in it, drew on Jacks
cow-hide boots, tied up her head and ears
in comforter, then, opening the door into
the sitting-room, she told Jamie to stay in
there and look after Will and the baby
took her milk pail and started. She stopped
aghast, when she reached the door OF the
shed, coniounded at the depth of the snow
She plunged into it, but found she could mol
90 on.
Beckie was girl of courage, besides
which she had spirit Of adventure. She
did not think there was any especial dan
ger. 1t was dreadful storm, there wa,
excitement in breasting it, and it would be
something to tell of afterwards; besides
she must have the milk for baby-that wa,
the paramount idea now. As she recovered
from her first plunge she thought Of kind
Of snow hoe her father had made, and she
stepped back into the shed, and, with somC
difficulty, extricated it. 1t was a long
stout stick, at the end Of which was fastened
a broad, fat piece of board, like hoe, onl J
many times larger. Cutting piece Of the
clothes line that hung there, she tied her
milk-pail by it around her waist ther
putting the handle Of her snow.hoe againsl
her breast, holding it with both hands, she
pressed on, making track for herself. Al
she went by the dog kennel the anima
barked and jumped towards her, aud sht
stopped in the deep snow and unclaimed him
The gloom had so increased she coult
scarcely distinguish an object in the barn
yard. Reaching the gate between the tive
yards, she was tempted to 60 back, bu
again she heard Crumpie's lowing, and sh'
pushed on, although it was hard work
The wind and snow came so violently sh'
could scarcely stand up against it, anC
she would have fallen but for the snow-hoe
| .uh; aL Il