Northern tribune. [volume] (Cheboygan, Mich.) 1875-1885, 1876-05-13
non,s cHo1cH OF 4 PRoFEss1oN



watching her. rs she patiently put III re-
pair. Jackets and coats for next trrnl'
irhev were having ''good talk. hrS.
Wood was one of those rare women "ho
fasc;nata their sons, and inspire In them
something of the spirit OF ctivairic
..W,.,l- now. mother, fellow ought to
st,,dv for something, as father says. Going
70 school lust to learn, and not to have
anv idea Of how you are going to use
vour learning, is poor way. l don't
want TO be minister; I'm not to be a
farmer-I don't know why; for, after all,
the old farm is about the best place
find.n HAF AIM
Rob did not fail to note the shine on
his mothers face as he said this.
IL won't measure ribbon behind a
counter, that's womaiish. There are
law and medicine. No use-professions
all crowded. l declare, mother, there
isn't chance left for man to make his
mark nowadays. Everything's discOv-
cred or invented-all the glorious battles
fought
Rob's mother smiled at her sons orac
ular, secondhand wisdom.
s.Now, mother, you laugh. What can
Il fellow do?"
,
saying-.Room higher up:'"
ssWell, don't know but there is; but
what do YOU think is best for me?"
"You are a pretty good reader and
speaker, Rob-"
Eyes, sire-ee-ma'am. 1 just took
that medal right off 'Spoutcr' Jones'
neck. You see he thought he could
beat even the Professor declaiming.
Wasn't he mad when the class baby got
it. When he gave it, Professor said in
his bic. old-fashioned way, Master Wood,
Won must have had some extra advantage
In elocutionarv drill p Says [, Mother
can tell YOU about the drill Says he,
.Indeed! Some mothers are an extra
advantage l say, MOTHER" said Rob,
springing mp and perching himself on a
footstool before his mother-.'you're a
bully motherm H
@Bully mother, Rob ?" echoed Mrs.
Wood. a little reproachfully. but with her
face radiant at her sons priise-fOr praise
it was-as was his with love and admira-
ton for his mother.
swell. you amt wooden woman, like
Tim Wild's-"
sNever mind Tim Wild's mother, my
son. I'll tell you what [ have thought
of since you went away to school. L
suppose every mother thinks great
deal of her sons letters but making al
lowance for that, there is yet in yours a
promise of future success with your pen.
i'm very proud of nv boy, Rob-
"You,re a bu-bu-beautiful woman,"
said Rob. tumbling the work out of her
lap and rolling his great curly head there
instead "That style of oratory suits
me. Go on, mother, L can stand it,"
IF YOU are never a minister, Rob-
her voice had shade of disappointment
in tit would be the pride and Joy of
life that my Rob should, with his voice or
pen, or both, pull down evil and build
"Won't I. though? You are a.
Well, won't then, but I'll stand treat,
and we'll drink to the Orator and Author,
the Honorable Robert Wood, A. d., 1900.
Where's the pitcher, mOthcr!"
There's no cider. Rob, except the vim
egar."
NO cider. You had apples last fall"
Yes, and we should have had cider
now, bat Squire Dill's hired man came
over one day to help father In press of
work, and had the run of the clfler-barrel,
of course. He was here, with his horse
and buggy, and stopped OH his way home
TO take Mamie Dill from school Is usual.
The horse scared, he was too tip>y to
manage it, and Mamie was hurt so she
hasn't been to school since. Father said
that was the last cider of his that would
do any mischief, SD what was not boiled
down for sauce or made into vinegar,
went to the pigs"
mamie Dill hurt. You didn't write
about it 20
mo. We didn't know but it would
bring a certain boy straight home from
school. or trouble him unnecessarily"
said Mrs. Wood.
Rob blushed like girl.
s'Father is coming to his SUPPER" she
added; must 90 to the Kitchen
Rob threw himself back on the
lounge.
mamie Dill, the prcttiest, sweetest girl
that ever was, nearly killed-and with
fathers cider!"
He didn't know about that. If he had
hold of that hired man he'd punch him.
Queer, too. Dick Waters was always a
splendid fellow; had whitfield out doz-
en- of double single hearts for him and
Mamie, and carved their names on them.
1t must have been the cider, after all.
How he had Dragged to the boys about
fathers cider-invited them home to
drink it. Mother said he could write
write composition ssOn Drinking" that
if there was only lamp in the room,
and pen and paper. He showed his fore
finger into his west pocket for stub of
pencil and scrap of paper that-wasnt
there. swell, | shouldn't know how TO
to get it printed" unused rob, when in
walked queer-looking foreigner" who
silently took his stand between Rob and
the fire.
"Who might you be Stranger" said
Rob.
"My name is Noryal. On the Gramp-
ian hills"
"Oh, yes" said Rob, "I've heard of
you often-know you, in fact"
''Yes, and know Tom Brown, of Rug
by
"Do you, now? Give us your hand.
Sit down by the fire."
mo, thank you. I'm never cold;"
and the tall figure grew taller and wider
and the fire shone bright through him,
and yet he excited no fear or surprise i'm
Rob. IL make it a point to visit boys
who are to influence the public mind A.
D., 1900. / thought I'd call round and |
tell you as / told Tom brown twenty-five
years ago. Your work is to lead boys"
All! w mere 10 Sdtu hOD, StduuluS
nnabashed before hfs odd visitor, looking
MN squarely in the eye, his thumbs
tn rus. In the armholes of his jacket.
80 :. neld of fame, as yet untrod,"
s Sn !ne visitor, with a grand, indefinite
Aouiisn OF his right hand. ssThere are
r unions ons OF boys waiting for leader in
"Ies. That Crusade of tho Children,
was my last history lesson. if,T;m Wild
recited his part right it was bio f IA; y