Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1876-09-01

tFrom the French of MarechAi in the Churchman.l
Can any one have forgotten Father Hans
of our village of Schoenbach? Was he not
known for ten leagues round, and was not
the day of his arrival counted as red-let-
ter one by all the housewives in that hid
den corner of the world, which lies amongst
folds OF the mountain. When he came
al ong with his back bent under his heavy
bales of stuff there was a struggle as to
who should beckon 10 him first from one
of the wooden balcories overhead, or who
first draw a glass of W hite wine in his hon
or from the cask. But be rarely accepted
anything to drink. LOOK you," he used
10 say, zone has no strength against q sec
ond glass when one has emptied a first.
And, in truth, the best liquid in the world
is Gods good wine, which is made far
above as in the clouds and glaciers, and
which the little birds regale themselves
with"
The moment of father Hans's arrival was
the happiest one in tho week 10 me. He
never failed TO have a store OF tops and
whistles for his favorites in some corner of
his box, and sometimes even little figures
of Punch, that he had carved himself dur
ing the long evenings of winter. Whilst
the house-servants laid in stock Of thread,
hooks and buttons, and whilst my mother
examined bales of dyed linens and colored
calicoes, with large tlowery patterns, l
prowled round the packages waiting i'm
patiently until he would attend to me.
Father Hans was a famous walkerl He
marched along the stone footpaths of the
surrounding cantons without ever growing
weary. His heavy wooden sabots were
equal, in my eyes 10 p-o'-my-thumb's s
seven-leagued boots. 1t was miraculous
rough mountains with the same invariably
vigorous step. "Are you not tired, Father
HansH" he was one day asked, when he
was seen wiping his forehead with his
checked pocket handkerchief, but not stop
ping to rest for an instant. "I tired9 That
would be fine idea for an old grenadier
like mep'
One morning whilst Father Hans was
fastening up his packages, he remarked
that he was going on to the shooting match
at Wildheim, where he felt sure he should
dispose of large amount of his goods. In-
stantly there flashed through my mind Wis
ions of the plum tarts and macaroons for
which that place is renowned, and 1 SEEM
ed to hear the joyful sound of rifles repeat
ed by the echoes Of the mountain. But
what could do? II was a school day, and
Father Hans, who deteSted idleness and
idlers, would never consent 10 take me
with him without my mothers consent,
and this my mother was certain not TO give.
blinded my eyes to the temptation, then
opened them TO shut them tighter than be-
fore in short 1 was overcome by 1t. Can
you imagine why? 1t was because l lis
iened to the bad advice of blackbird OF
my acquaintance, who sat on cherry-tree
at the entrance of the garden and sang a
thrilling song on the pleasures of liberty.
"There is only one joy in the world" +"
sang the tempter, "and that is TO bury one s
self under the green canopies of the forest,
or TO follow the fiowery pathways still wet
with dew, in company with Father Hans
How delightful to cross the babblng brooks,
and TO see the torrents tumbling over the
venerable rocks up there !"
"You are right, comrade," exclaimed /
TO myself "Liberty foreveri Come what
may, will play truant from school, and
the result may settle itself to- night"
At the same moment, threw my cap in
to the air in token of Independence, and
then fastened to set off ahead of Father
Hans, who was finishing his round in the
village. Once on the road, Father Hans
could not say no.
"Hallo are you horeH" cried he In sur
prise, when he caught me hiding by the
roadside at the noise of his advancing sa.
bots. "What are you doing here, then :"
"I am going to Wildheim," l replied
with confidence.
"Well, then, my boy, we will travel TO-
gether, for am going there, too.".
My heart beat with joy. had gained
my object. No doubt he would tell me
some of his battle tales. He took me by the
hand, and tried to stretch my short steps tC
the Dimensions of his long strides. This
was pleasant al first In spite OF shOrtness Ol