Vermont farmer. [volume] (Newport, Orleans County, Vt.) 1870-1877, 1874-06-05
A SUNDAY A CENTURY AGO.

An old brown leather-covered book. the
leaves yellow, the writing scarcely legible
from time and decay; evidently an old. neg
lected MS. To the fire or to my private
shelfP Which?
These were my reflections as l looked
over tho papers of my late uncle, the rector
of a Somersetshire village.
liked the look of the book and decided
for the shelf; and 1 had my reward for
found in the Grabbed characters simple
story, evidently written towards the close of
the writer's life. This story now transcrbe
into n modern style.
'lie'll be fit for nothing" SAID my father;
"an awkward BOBBY who holds his awl and
cuts his food with his left hand"
So said my father, and so. alas l felt
was awkward. / was fifteen; thick set,
strong, but terribly clumsy. 1 could not
make collar, nor pair of blinkers. nor
stuff saddle. nor do anything that 1 ought
TO be able to do. My fingers seemed to have
no mechanical feeling in them. was awk-
ward, and knew it, and all knew it.
was good tempered; could write fairly,
and read anything; but l was awkward
with my limbs; they seemed to have wills
of their own; and yet l could dance rs
easily and lightly as any Of my neighbors'
sons.
81 don't know what he's fit for" said my
father to the rector of the parish. "I've set
him to carpentering. and he cut his finger
nearly off with an axe; then he went to the
smith, and burnt his hands till he was laid
up for a month. It's all of no use; he spois
me more good leather in week than his
earnings pay for in month Why cannot
he, like other Christians, use his hands as
the good God meant him to? There! Look
at him now, cutting that back strap for the
squire with his left hand"
heard him; the knife slipped, and the
long strip of leather was divided in mo-
ment and utterly spoiled.
"There now look at that A piece out OF
the very middle of tho skin, and his finger
cut in the bargain"
The rector endeavored TO soothe my faith
er's anger, while bandaged my finger.
you'd better lot him come up for that
vase, Mr.. Walters; should like n case to
fit it, for it's very fragile, rs all that old Ital-
ian glass is; and line 1t with the softest
leather, please"
And so | went with tho rector to bring
back the vase, taking two chamois feathers
TO bring it in.
We reached the house, and waited in the
passage while he went to fetch it. lie came
back with large vase, tenderly wrapped in
the feathers. Alas! Mt that moment there
came from the room, against the door OF
which was standing, the sound of voice
singing. A voice that thrilled me through
"a voice hear now rs 1 write these lines
so clear, so sweet, so pure, it was rs il m
angel had revealed itself to me.
trombled, and forgot the precious bur,
den in my hands; it dropped 20 the ground
and was shattered TO pieces.
How shall describe the rector's rageP
fear he said something for which he would
have blushed in his calmer moments, and
she came out.
She who had the angel-voico- noice-
came out, and l saw her. | forgot the dis.
aster, and stood srcechlessly gazing at hel
face.
"You awkward scoundrell look at your
work. Thirty pounds Filly poundsl Al
invaluable treasure gone irreparably in 1
moment. Why don't you speakP Why die
you drop itP"
drop it," l said, waking up. "DroI