The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1876-09-15


thing. ''They say you are going to
have him for a son-in-law.n
'They say good many things that
have no truth in them. The unfinished |
room is good enough for him now, or
any time"
LA ' cried the man, 81 thought
that was a settled thing between the
young folks"
at can't be very Settled without my
word, and he and have never alluded
to it, and l reckon we shan't in a
hurry" said the squire.
"Why, he's a fine fellow, isn't he ?
The school children are wild about
him."
Eyes, he's well enough, for all I
know; but he isn't my kind ~
"Why? How ?''
"Oh, he's a great brag. Nobody
knows so much as he; nObody's fam
lily, nobody's tailor, nobody's shoe
maker, is like his. Every college but
Harvard is primary school, and every
city but Boston a hamlet. l hate gassy
men,"
"Oh, well, he's young. He'll get
over this by and by, when he's had a
little of the rough and tumble of life"
replied the carpenter, kindly.
for fear of his fine feathers. He rode
over to the huckleberry pastures with
the young folks in a hay-rigging, but
he had to wear patent leather boots
and tall hat" said the squire, smiling.
'Perhaps he hadn't any stout boots
with him."
"Then he ought to have had, and a
man that was halt-witted would have
had. But Pve nothing against the
young fellow. He's gOod-natured, and
civil to everybody; but when it comes
to a sOn-in-law, that's another thing I'
"You would bring him round straight,
squire, and make splendid man of
him, with all these good qualities"
"Well, Pm not sure of that,n replied
! the squire. "GoOd nature is a small
part of what goes to make up a real
man. I'm afraid he hasn't much man
illness about him. His father is a min
! ister-as poor as a church mouse, /
hear-and his sisters teach school to
keep him at college and supply him
with toggery. And yet, look how he
dresses He can't even black his
boots, but has to call Enoch away from
the wood-pile to do it for him! |
reckon, by that, that his father and
mother blacks them at home. With
all the odd hours he has, he's never
! lifted an axe for exercise, nor done any,
thing else here but play gentleman, and
bTag about Harvard and Boston. He's
going to buy flute and gun, and take
! fencing lessons next spring-with the
money he earns here, l suppose. No,
he's too much of a gentleman and too
! little of a man to come into my family.
But here We sit talking instead of
planning the barn; and, besides that,
! it's about time for school to be out"
! (He had forgotten it was Wednesday
afternoOn.) "There's only a partition
between his room and this, and he may
pop in there and hear me. Mind you
don't repeat anything tharll injure the
boy in the district. He's a good
teacher, and feel friendly to him. |
hope he'll learn wisdom and make a
smart man, but at present 1 call him a
lazy one"
If an arrow had gone through the
heart of our hero he could hardly have
been more surprised. He was almost
paralyZed by charges $50 cruel and false"
! from one who he had fancied would be
proud and impatient to call him his
son.
Roy shut his eyes and tipped back in
his chair, and thought the matter all
over. He asked himself, Gam / that
contemplate thing, a brag? Do l
boast of my family, and my college,
and my city, to the disparagement of
other families, colleges and cities? Am
l fop with my soul in my boots? Am
I lazy dog, living on the life blood of
my parents and sisters If thought
was all this l would jump into the
mill-stream and rid the world of such a
puppy"
He was so vexed that he almost cried.
His first impulse was to pack bis
trunk, pay his board, and set off for
Boston. But better thoughts came to
his aid. "Perhaps, after ALL" he said,
''I am not the fine fellow 1 fancied my
self, and may learn a lesson from this
cruel cut"
He rose up, saying, "T was a fool to
talk about flute and gun, and taking
fencing lessons. 1t would be mean and
cruel to spend my money so. And
l can't see what put it into my head to
have EnOch black my boots. 1 always
did them myself both at home and at
college. 1 half believe the old squire is
right, and that Pm mean, lazy fellow !
But pll stop where 1 am on that road,
aud take another. He shall never
know that 1 heard him; but he shall
change his mind of me before Pm a
week older"
Roy did take a new turn, although
not so suddenly as to rouse the suspi-
ciOns of the squire. Seeing that he had
too readily accepted the hard-earned
gifts of his father, he soon asked the
squire to advance him little money on
his salary, that he might send it home,
saying, at is about time the tables be-
gan to turn, and that help instead of
burdening my father" And the re-
quest was granted with smiles and COM
pliments.
Soon after that, when Enoch had
drawn in all his winters wood, ROy
playfully offered to split enough to pay
for blacking his boots, and he did it
like one who had handled an ak before.
Little by little be gained the conf
dence and respect of the squire. When
the term closed and he engaged to take
the winter school again, they parted
with perfect understanding. All was
right between them, and Maria was to
pass the holidays with Roy's family.
The squire said he had never been so
deceived by first appearances.
Listeners rarely hear any good of
themselves; and when they hear evil
they rarely make as wise a use of it as
Roy Winters, the innocent listener,