Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1875-04-08
OLD TICKlEBY'S CABIN.

UGRl How the wind did buster and
blow and cavort around the old cabin
Old Tickleby's Cabin, as it was known
by all the neighbors and everybody else
who by chance had heard of it. 1t Was
called Old Tickleby's Cabin because it
was inhabited by old Peter Tickleby. 1t
didn't belong to anybody, for it stood on
the village common-grounda and had once
been a school house-a long time ago
long before Old Tickleby had moved to
that section, or, indeed, before Old
Tickleby was born.
There was only one man in the village
who could remember when the old log
cabin was built, and he was so nervous
and old and deaf that you couldn't get
any satisfaction out of him about it.
The old cabin stood just at the edge of
narrow strip of woods, which, from
their shape, seemed to invite the north
wind rather than protect the shaky
structure. This strip of wood was the
southern boundary of long and wide
green that sloped abruptly off at this
edge to the bank of deep creek, and
consequently the old cabin sat in a gorge
And a lovely gorge it was, with the
great, messy oak trees growing on the
very edge of the steep banks, and their
white and smoothly-washed roots sprawl
ing out of the side of the bank and over
into the water, like the skeleton fingers
of some huge giant that lay buried on
the slope.
The wind came rushing like a mad
spirit down the gorge. The gusts were
sudden and short, but pounded at the
door of Old Tickleby's cabin, and jerked
and pried at the crannies between the
logs, and rushed down the old mud Chin
ney, carrying with it a roll of smoke,
and then out again, like a boisterous,
playful young monster.
Peter Tickleby sat on a low, split bot
tom chair before very ghost of fire
that lowered undecidedlY over two
rugged knots Of poplar wood in the great
open fireplace. He held, or rather he
clutched, piece of paper in his hand,
and he held to it with an air of deter
mination, and one that plainly accused
the wind of thievish intentions. When
ever the sullen knots would leap into a
momentary blaze he would peer with
such an agonized, anxious look at the
paper, as if he were trying to look into
its very soul.
Old Peter had gotten letter from the
IL n
ter said there was no doubt of its being
intended for him, because it was a long,
red package, sealed with dark-colored
wax, and on it was written: "Peter
Tickleby, Esq, Bellefeld, -- Co.,
Ken"
Old Tickleby then took it, because he
had no excuse for refusing it further.
He thrust it nervously into his great
cavern of pocket and walked leisurely
through the deepening sunset and the
cutting east wind to his domicile, deter
mined to encourage no idle and senseless
curiosity.
But man being reminded eternally of
anything will at last regard it with some
L
he tried to forget the long red letter the
more he saw the peculiar, saw-like writ
ing on the direction; every time he thrust
his little, old, shriveled-up hands into his
great fat pockets they encountered the
Objectionable package, and were forth
with withdrawn, as if from fire. So he
soon became curious, and then raving,
staring anxious.
The old pedagogue-for Old Peter was
the village schoolmaster, although have
not mentioned it before. In fact, the
pedagogic pursuits Of the old man were
the least important of his occupations
he was so old in years and so old-fash-
Toned in ideas that the precocious chill
dren of the generation of which I write
were fain to hold him in derision, and
under this the old mans spirits had fair
ly broken. For more than a twelve
month his occupation, like that of 8
more famous parsonage, had now beer
gone, and now in the dead of severe
winter he was in lack of some of the
necessaries and all the comforts of life
The neighbors around, as general thing
were charitable when want was in sigh
but "out of sight, out of mind"
Old Peter, though he was as poor a
the proverbial turkey in the coop of on
Job, would have starved silently rathe
than have asked charity. And thus b
had lived a solitary life this winter unit
his wood, the thoughtful summer pro
vision OF the old man, had dwindled unde
the demands of an unprecedented white
into few knotty sticks. He was prov
dent of these.