The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1878-10-31
THE PARSONS HORSEBACK.
BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

wal! now this 'ere does beat all
wouldn't a. thought it O. the deacon"
So spoke Sam Lawson, dropping in a
discouraged, contemplative attitude in
front of an equally discouraged-looking
horse, that had just been brought to
hlm by the Widow Simpkins for med
ical treatment. Among Sans many &C.
complishments he was reckoned, in the
neighborhood, an oracle in all matters of
&his kind, especially by women whose
helplessness in meeting such emergen-
eies found unfailing solace under his
compassionate willingness to attend to
amy business that did not strictly belong
t0 him, and from which no pecuniary
return was to be expected.
The Widow Simpl1ins had bought this
horse Of Deacon Atkins, apparently a
&airly well-appointed brute, and as capa-
BILE as he was good-looking A short,
easy drive, when the deacon held the
Teins, had shown off his points to adj
vantage, and the widows small stock of
ready savings had come forth freely in
payment for what she thought was a
bargain. When, soon after coming into
possession, she discovered that her
horse, if driven with any haste, painted
An fearful manner, and that he ap-
peared to be growing lame, she waxed
wroth, and went to the Deacon in anger,
TO be met only with the smooth reminder
that the animal was all right when she
took him that she had seen him tried
herself. The widow was of nature
somewhat spicy, and expressed herself
warmly: "It's cheat and a shame, and
VII take the law on ye"
What law will you take?" said the
unmoved deacon. WASN'T it fair bar
gain?"
~T'll take the law of Cod" said the
widow, with impotent Indignation, and
she departed to pour her cares and trials
into the ever-ready ear of Sam. Having
assumed the care of the animal, he now
sat contemplating it in sort of trance
of melancholy reflection.
Why, boys" he broke out, "why
didn't she come to me afore she bought
Ghis critter? That ere crittur was Jest
ruined a year ago last summer, when
Tom, the deacon's boy there, come home
from college. Tom driv him over to
Sherburn and back that ere hot Fourth
of July. Member it, cause I saw the
crittur when he come home; [ sot uE
with Tom takin' care of him all night
shat ere crittur had the thumps all
might, and he hain't never been good
fOr nothin' since. [ telled the deacon
he was gone boss then, and wouldn't
mever be good for nothin'. The deacon
he took off his shoes, and let him run
to pastur' all summer, and he's been a
feedin' and nussin' on him up; and now
hes put him off on the widder. ]
wouldn't "a thought it O. the deacon
Why, this hossll never be no good to
her; that 'ere's used-up crittur, any
fool may see He'll mebbe do for about
20 quarter of an hour on smooth road
but come to drive him as body wants
TO drive, why, he blows like my bellowsis
and the deacon knew it-must "a known
iGi"
"Why, Sam" we exclaimed, "ain't
Che deacon a good man?"
Wal, now, there's where the shoe
pinches In gin'al way the deacon is
O. good man-he's consid able more than
gniddlin' gin'ally he adorns his
perfession. On most p'ints don't hev
nothin' agin the deacon, and this 'ere
amt bit like him-but there tbs
Come to bosses, there's where the IN