The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1878-03-16

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own quarters and the gate shut fast behind
him. Then Jim huntedu the farmer
Say, Mr.. Dellin, he'd you just as lives keep
that are splendid ole bull of your'n in the
barn spel, till git our folkses' fence sot
upW #rr.. ..'...
"Why, what harms he ben doin'l Hain't ]
a right to keep bull in my own lot, want to
knows" fh
Sartinly, sartinly but We see the poor ere
tur wanted fresh bite, an he kinder pushed
down the fence like, and got into some winter
wheat so | guessed Id git him out ont
fust-n
''How in thunder did We get him out2 that's
the e RW int' co,xed him ,o.t,. .o.4 .,,,.d
him along with mess o. raw potatoes t'otheI
side the stun wall. | see he hankered after
fresh victuals, so to speak, n | duno's blame
him. aI
John Dekin could not help laugh, but Jim
went on quietly: $50 eff you'd lest as lives
keep him III spell, IN hurry up an fix the
fence, and then he can go out to pastur agin,
leastways while there is pastur; 'twon't last
no great now, that's fact.n
Now the fence between the lots was De1ins,
as he very well knew; and he could have been
made to pay well for the damage his beast had
done; but he also knew Deacon Ellery was
laid up with an attack of rheumatism, and
Jim had all the work to do. If the fence was
once up it would be hard work to make the
bull owner pay for 1t, so he grimly assented.
" Yes, Ill keephi tethered; but you hurry
up with your old fence"
Jim went to work directly; hauled the rails,
dug the post holes, andhire a few hours help
to set them. Before the next night that wiz
ter wheat was safely rallied in, and Deacon
Ellery, feeling little better, had his factotlm
into the bedroom to hear an account of The
days proceedings, which jim composedly gave
him.
"Why you big fool" exclaimed the old
man, cross with pain and testy naturally,
you've been building John Dekin's fence
to keep his own bull out o. mylot What on
the globe did We do that for.3
Well, We see, mister SAID jim, assuming
a comfortable sort of ATTITUDE, rs who would
say, "come now, let us reason together"
did kinder mistrust from me looks o. things
twas his'n; but thinks M, he amt the kind
to up and do right off; he don't caresmuch eff
his bull does eat up your Wheat; | expect he's
one o. them that didn't nev a good mother.
My eff he'd ha' had my mother he'd known
better, eff he had ha ben fool But you
see, folks is folksy; thy amt as they had
ought ter be, and YOU can't fix em no way,
REILLY. | calculated tina if you waited for him
the grain d be clean Lost; eff We took the law
on him, why, that void be time an money
spent, and the wheat lad oughter be grow
in; 'twOuldn't never grow without fencin',
for that bulls dreadful obstropolus; and We
had them old rails h:ndy. Anyway it's fixed
now; and eff We want'o jaw him, or set Squire
jerks onto him, WY, there's time enough
while the wheats a srowin' agin to satisfy We
that way.n ..
" You go long" srowled the deacon, fall
ing back on the pilbw. CTS pretty piece
o. business to cometo my time O life to learn
how to handle thistles; | don't deny but what
I've learned suthir but guess you'd better
go to bed now; you're alfred tired"
"Well, be SOM" and, stretching and yawn-
ing, jim obeyed
"That ainf nobodys fool, y calculated the
deacon, looking after him; 8 r if he is, It's a
plaguy sight better folly than most folks wis
DOM"
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 mXuriance, thick and
heavy-headed; none the worse for its accident
al pruning, perhaps all the better. And be-
sides, there was certainly softening in John
Dekin's aspect toward his neighbor; perhaps
not unmingled with contempt for the deacon's
"sOftness;' - but still grain of leaven had
been planted in this uuprOmsing lump; time
perhaps eternity-Only could show how it
worked. So Jim went his way in and about
Sawyer; 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 communication, 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 remembered with tender affection,
poor Jericho jim.
- IL.
service of his life for his good old friends the
Ellery. 1t has not been declared to you, dear
readers, any more than it was to Jim, that Dea-
con Ellery had son living in distant city,
who, for some years, had never been 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 pain
ful shynesS and reticence of race and ma
ture, Deacon Ellery hid his affection deep in
silence and GOODNESS. He was a rigid Calvin
list, and had striven to bring up Samuel in the
straitest sect of that sort. He went away
from home to a position in a bank in Boston,
where he began as "boy," and had now ar
rived at the office Of cashier. At first he had
returned once or twice year to the old home,
to mother, and also to keepup certain youth
full sweethearting with Annie Palmer, the min
listers pretty daughter; but as he grew to be
a man he rebounded into Unitarianism. That
his son should become a member of that sect
in particular was the very gall and bitterness
of iniquity to the old deacon, who could have
better borne detection in almost any other
direction; and in what he called righteous
wrath he wrote dreadful letter to Samuel,
and forbade him to ever enter his doors again
till he had repented of this great sin, and
humbled himself in dust and ashes for betray-
ing his Master, as the deacon was pleased to
style it. Although loving and entreating
letter from his mother went after this fulmi-
nation, and somewhat calmed Sans first con-
temptuous anger, and though the letter was
answered, and a fitfu! correspondence carried
on between mother and son through Annie
Palmer, Sam accepted his fathers alternative,
and stayed away from home as persstently as
the deacon ignored him, for he was indeed "a
chip off 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 adored the minister's
daughter with the dumb passion of faithful
dog 1t was the greatest 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 word or smile made Jim hap
py all day. After the fashion of wiser folks
he paid tribute to this goddess continually.
He brought her every wild flower in its season,
and the rarest of all he knew where the rho
dora grew. and gathered its early blooms for
Annie; delicate orchids unveiled their shy
haunts for him, and the slight sweet flowers
of spring all lay at Annie's feet from her faith
full worshiper. Cardinal flowers and spotless
pond-liies came in their season; and he stored
the biggest nuts and begged the sweetest
fruits that grew in the garden, nor ever begged
in vain, for Jim was petted and privileged in
Sawyer. Annie was nightly ioked about her