Litchfield enquirer., 1878-05-16

WHEEL WAS SdItly Tdll6U anu DcdCOu !, feeling little better; had his factotum into the bedroom to hear an account of the days pro- eeedings which Jim comp0sedy gave him.
 Why, you alarmed fool :" exclaimed the old man, cross with pain and testy naturally, s'you've been building John Dekin's fence to keep his own bull out Q. my lot What upon the globe did ye do that for 7"
 Well, ye see, mister, said Jim assuming comfortable sort of attitude, as who should say, ''come now, let us reason together" q did kinder mstrust from the looks O things twas his'n ;but thinks me, he ain't the kind to up and do right of he don't care much eff his bull does eaf up your wheat l expect he's one O them that didn't hev good mother. My! eff he'd ha' had my mother he'd known better, of he had ha' been fool. But, you see, folks is fOIksy; they ain't as they had ought ter be, and that if you waited for him, the grain d be clean lost if ye took the law on him, why that would be time an money spent, and the wheat had Oughter be growing; 'twouldu't never grow without fencing, for that bulls dreadful obstropolOus; and we he'd dthem old rails handy. Anyway it's fixed now; and eff ye want to jaw him, or set Squire Jinks onter him, why there's time enough while the wheat's growin' agin to satisfy ye that way.'' @ a. ''YOu go long" growled the Deacon, fallen back on his pillow: Its pretty piece O bus
 
 handle missiles; 1 don't deny but what I've learned suthin', but Iguess you'd better go to bed now; you're all fired tired"
 Well, l be, some," and stretching and yawning, Jim obeyed."
 That ain't nobody's fool!" calculated the Deacon, looking after him; ''rif he is, Us a plaguy sight better folly than most folks wis dom"
 There was no lawyer sent to John Dekin: the frxFo hI1tT noticed that the bull was not turned into that lot again and when spring returned the grain shot up in full luXuriance, thick and heavy headed; none the worse for its accidental pruning, perhaps. all the better. And beside there was certainly a softening in John Dekin's aspect toward his neighbor; perhaps not unmingled with contempt for the Deacon's stiffness" but still a grain of leaven had been planted in this unpromising lump; time,- perhaps eternity only could show how it work cd. So Jim went his way in and about Sawyer; being of no account in the eyes of most peo- pie; of less than none in his own but planting here and there by the wayside little seeds of kindness and humanity that blossomed to some souls delight and benefit. "She hath done what she could, l" was the lords own commend atien, and this was the lowly measure of Jim s desert but can any of us do more? How many of us do as much How many of the great and richleave behind them a grateful rec ord in even as many hearts as always remem- bered with tender affection, poor Jericho Jim. But it was reserved for him to do the great service of his life for his good old friends the Ellerys. It has not been declared to you, dear readers, any more than it was to Jim, that Deacon Ellery had a son living in distant city, who for some years had never been seen in Sawyer, nor spoken of in his fathers house. Sam Ellery had been the very core of his fath- CTS heart, to use the pathetic Irish phrase, and yet he never found it out for with the painful shyness and reticence of his race and nat ure Deacon Ellery hid this affection deep in silence and coldness. He was rigid Calvinist, and had striven to bring up Samuel in the straitest sect of that sort. Dogmas and doctrines are husky food for bright, brave, joyful soul like this boys; he never took to them kindly his mothers love made her religion just tolerable for him, for prOfessedly she held her husbands faith. Sam could believe in the goodness and tenderness of God when he saw and heard his mother but his fathers stern and unfinching hand closed the gates which he was most de- sireus of opening. He went away from home to position in bank in Boston, where he be- gan as ''bOy, "and had now arrived at the office of cashier. At first he had returned once or twice year to the old home, to mother and als0 to keep up certain youthful sweetheart ing with Annie Palmer, the minister's pretty daughter but as he grew to be man and re- membered bitterly his fathers stern belief, he made use of his freedom to examine into relig- ious faiths, and naturally enough rebounded into Unitarianism. That his son should be- come a member or that sect in particular was the very gall and bitterness of iniquity to the old Deacon, who could better have borne de- lection in almost any other direction; and in what he called righteous wrath he wrote a dreadful letter to Samuel, and forbade him ev- CT to enter his doors again, till he had repented of this great sin, and humbled himself in dust and ashes for betraying his Master, as the Dea- con was pleased to style it. Although loving and entreating lefter from his mother went af- ter this illumination, and somewhat callned Sams first contemptuous anger, and though that letter was answered, and a fitful cOrrespOn- dence carried OR between mother and son through Annie Palmer, Sam accepted his fath CTS alternative, and stayed away from his home as persistently as the Deacon ignored him for he was indeed ga chip of the old block"
 His name was never named in the family, nor uttered in the daily prayer, and if his fathers heart ever cried after him. it cried in silence.
 Now Jericho Jim adoredth minister's daugh- ter with the dumb passion of faithful dog. It was the great joy of his life to have her come to the door with the milk-pitcher for him to fill, as she sometimes did and one pleasant ". After the fashion of wiser folks, he paid trib. ute to this goddess continually. He brought her every wild flower in it's season, and the rarest of all he knew where the rlfodora grew, and gathered it's early blooms for Annie deli. cate orchids unveiled their shy harnts for him, and the slight sweet flowers of spring all lay at Annie's feet from her faithful worshipper Cardinal flowers and spotless pond-lilies came in their season; for her he stored the biggest anfa and fho fr,,ifc fIof in any garden, nor ever begged in vain, for Jim was pettsd and privileged in Sawyer. An nie was nightly joked about her fervent ad- mirer, but nobody ever laughed at Jim, his pathetic simplicity shielded him like young girls innocence. But Annie knew very well that this poor boy liked her, though not how deeply; and knowing too, his curious power of setting people to rights, it occurred to her that he might perhaps pave the way for her lovers conciiation with his father for the careless admiration of the Deacons son had long ago dsepened into. love- and Sam Ellery had been many times to Sawyer to see Annie Palmer since he finally left his fathers door and now they were soon to be married, and Annie longed with all her heart to have peace between father and son. .t
 One July evening, just at twilight, Jericho Jim arrived at the door of Parson Palmer's house with the milk for Sunday, which was always carried round Saturday night, and also with a pail of fresh water lilies from Narren pond
 Annie came out to take them, fresh and cool as their spotless blooms herself; her dark hair. waved above a sweet, colorless face, and her clear, sad, hazel eyes looked at Jim both grate- fully and wistfully.
 70 Jim thank you! these are so lovely l. Jim, there is one thing wish you could help me ahout?"
 "fll do anything I can in the natur' of things to help ye, marm, as sure's you're born," he answered to the half question
 ''l do want so much to have Deacon Ellery make friends with his son.
 "Why, he hain't got any!" said Jim, with simple confidence,
 "Yes he has, Jim; he has indeed; but they haven't spoken for years"
 ''Sho now! that are can't be; guess YOU dreamed it, Miss Annie. Why, Deacon FL lery's good man Christian cretur as ever was; can't be- somebody's ben a."