St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1878-03-01
ST. JOHNsBURY, VT, FRIDAY MAR. l. 1878.

TDekin's fence to keep his own bull out
o. my lot What on the globe did ye
do that for'n 4' 7
l"Well, We see, mister" said Jim, as
suming a comfortable sort of attitude
as who should say, "come now, let us
reason together" az did kinder mis-
trust from the look o; things twas his'n
but thinks me, he amt the kind to up
and do right off he don't care much ei
his bull docs eat up your wheat; l ex-
pect he's one O. them that didn't hev q
good mother. My eff he'd ha' had my
mother he'd known better, eff he had
ha' been fool. But, you see, folks is
folksy they amt as they had ought
ter be, and you can't fix 'em no way,
reelly. calc'lated that if you waited
for him the grain'd be clean lost; eff ye
took the law on him, why that would
be time am money spent, and the wheat
had oughter be growin'; 'twouldn't
never grow without fencin', for that
BULBS dreadful obstropolous; and we
had them old rails handy. Anyway it's
fixed now and eff ye want to jaw him,
or set Squire jerks onter him, why
there's time enough while the wheat's a
grOwin' agin to satisfy ye that way"
"You go long," growled the deacon,
falling back on his pillow: "It's pret-
ty piece o. business to come to nay time
O. life to learn how to handle thistles
| don't deny but what I've learned
suthin', but 1 guess you'd better go to
bed now you're alfred tired"
"Well be some," and stretching and
yawning, Jim obeyed.
"That ain't n0bOdy's fool ~ calculated
the deacon, looking after him: '.'r if he
is, It's plaguy sight better folly than
most folks's wisdom"
There was no lawyer sent to John
Dekin the fence stood firm against
wintry storms, but Jim 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 bet
ter. And besides, there was certainly
a softening in John Dekin's aspect to-
ward his neighbOr; perhaps not un-
mingled with contempt for the deacon's
"softness )" but still grain of leaven
had been planted in this unpromising
hump; time,-perhaps eternity only
could show how it worked. So Jim
went his way in and about Sawyer; a
being of no account in the eyes of most
people 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" was the Lords own
commendatiOn, 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
rich leave behind them grateful record
in even as many hearts as always re-
membered 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. 1t has not been
declared to you, dear reader, any more
than it was to Jim, that Dea. Ellery
had Il son living in a 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 fathers heart, to use the
pathetic Irish phrase, and yet he never
found it out; for with the painful shy
ness and reticence of his race and ma
ture, Dea. ElleIy hid this affection deep
in silence and coldness. He was rigid
Calvinist, and had stfiven to bring up
Samuel in the straightest sect of that
sort. He went away from home to a
position in bank in Boston where he
began as ''bOy," and had now arrived
at the Office of cashier. AT first he had
returned once or twice a year to the old
home, to mother, and also to keep up a
certain youthful sweethearting with
Annie Palmer, the minister's pretty
daughter; but as he grew to be a man
and remembered bitterly his fathers
stern belief, he naturally enough re-
bounded into Unitarlanism. That his
son should become member of that
sect in particular was the very gall and
bitterness of iniquity to the old deacon,
who could have better borne a detection
in almost any other direction and in
what he called righteous wrath he wrote
a dreadful letter to Samuel, and forbade
him to ever enter his doors again, til
he had repented of his great sin, and
humhled himself in dust and ashes fol-
betraying his Master, as the deacon was
pleased to style it. Although a loving
and entreating letter from his mother
) went after this illumination, and some.
what calmed Sans first cOntemptuous
anger, and though the letter was an
!, swered, and a fitful correspondence
carried on between mother and sol
through Annie Palmer, Sam accepted
J his fathers alternative, and stayed
: away from his home as persistently al
the deacon ignored him for he wa
indeed "a chip of the old blockn Hi
! non,aI IN, h. IL,
nor uttered in the daily prayer, and i
it cried in silence,
; Now Jericho Jim adored the minis
ter's daughter with the dumb passion O
r faithful dog. 1t was the great joy O
his life to have her come to the doc
with the milk-pitcher for him to fill, a
she sometimes did; and one pleasan
word or lovely smile made Jim happ
all day. After the fashion of wise
2 folks he paid tribute to this GOODIES
continually. He brought her ever
: wild flower in its season, and the rares
of all he knew where the rhodor
grew, and gathered its early blooms fo
Annie delicate orchids unveiled thei
shy haunts for him, and the slight swee
flowers of spring all lay at Annie's fee
: from her faithful worshiper. Cardina
flowers and spotless pond-lilies came i
their season for her he stored the big
; gest nuts, and begged the sweetes
fruits that grew in any garden, nor eve
begged in vain, for Jim was petted an
/, privileged in Sawyer. Annie was might
, lily joked about her fervent admirer, bu
t nobody ever laughed at Jim, his pa
thetic simplicity shielded him like
S young girls innocence But Ami
g knew very well that this moor hov lika