St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1878-03-01

sort of neighborhood courier he ped
died milk for the deacon, and dispensed,
with his quarts and pints, all the news
of the village. Many good woman
waited eagerly for his coming, and ran
out with her apron over her head, not
merely for the pitcher of fresh, sweet,
rich fluid, but to hear about "Mis'" AL
LENS sick baby, OF Jones's grandmother
who broke her leg last week, or Sary
Penny's company from York and it
was strange enough to see how quantity
and deftly Jim fitted his story to the
hearer. With the curious instinct that
sometimes dwells in the souls of those
we conceitedly call half-witted, he
seemed to comprehend the characters
he met, to understand their wants and
their ways; and many was the word in
season carelessly dropped from his lips
that did blessed errand, all the more
because it was uttered by ''the foolish
ness of man."
"Did We stop to Harris's to-day ?" in
quired the deacon, as Jim rode up to
the gate one frosty morning, with clat-
tering empty cans.
"Well, L expect | did"
"Lef' the quart, s'pose, N didn't git
nothin' fort 2"
''No, sir 1 give 'em somthin' to
boot. Ole Harris came to the door
fort she's done up. Doctors gig was
a stannin' there, an he was clus up to
the winder mixin' mess, N ole Harris
sez BE you Ellery's fool 1? Yes, be,
sez /, pOoty cherk Then he larfed
rough as bark. Give us a quart; sez
he: Il hain't got no change to-day
| lIUnI1 I ST ,in1t rn n1ttnf'S Inn O'S
we're to hum. Deacon's willin' to trust
folks It stay to hum.' He looked awful
beat N mad, md | see the doctor larfn /;
but he took the milk, md whipped up,
l tell ye."
Jericho Jim never knew that Tim
Harris staid at home through his wife's
long illness, simply to be sure, since he
had no money to buy it with, that the
delicate baby, sole survivor of six,
should have its regular food for drunk
ard and idler as he was, he had pas
sionate, reasOnless fondness for his chill
dren, and when one after another they
died he sought fresh consolation at the
whisky-shOp. But this one lived, thanks
to it's sudden weaving from its heart
broken, wOrn-Out mother, whose bitter
troubles and meager food had poisoned
even the draught of life for her babies,
and sent them to untimely graves.
While she lay helpless and raging with
fever for nine long weeks, Tim staid at
home, nursed her as well as he could,
tended and fed the baby, who learned
to cry for him, instead of crying at the
sight of him as all the others had, and
getting fat and rosy on the yellow milk
that Jim brought daily in little pail
from the deacon's Alderney, wound
itself round the fathers heart, kept him
with bands stronger than iron from his
evil haunts, taught him to live without
his stimulant, at least for so long; and
established hold on him never lost.
1t was little Rosy Harris, who, in after
years, coaXed her father into good
habits, and made her mothers last days
bright and calm but it was Jericho
Jim who began the good work with his
unauthorized statement of the deacon's
willingness to trust Il man who ''Stayed
to hum"
Curious enough, too, were Jim's
peacemakingprOp These cloud
ed or straying minds sometimes take Il
certain elfish delight in mischief, but
his desire and delight was peace. Miss
Nancy Vance was thin and somewhat
little old maid, yet gifted with Il good
deal of sense, and tolerably reasonable
about half mile from her little brown
house, where she lived with bed rid
den mother and did tailoring, lived the
Widow Pyne, n noisy, goOd-natured,
high-tempered woman; quick to resent
OI TO fancy an injury, but equally quick
to forgive. Between her and Miss Nancy
ragged feud of such strength and bit
ternesS us is only to he found in little
country village between people whose
minds ale narrowed by their limited
horizon and slight experience. They
, were both church members, but they
would neither look at each other across
, the Westinghouse, nor recognize each
other in the porch. Miss Nancy always
called Mrs. Pyne "that pesky widow
: and was styled in return, with more
vigor than reticence, ''that darned old
maid"
, Jericho Jim was aware of this, and
many a time shrunk, as if from a pin
, prick or blow, when one began tC
, vituperate the other, and openly evaded
the subject.
81 s'pose old Nance Vance takes hal
, pint o. milk on ye, don't she ?" inquir.
: ed Mrs. Pyne, with a sniff.
Gland o. glory what splendid rec
; apples them bel" CALCULATED Jim, his
ears shut to the question, but his eyes
t very wide open to an Astrachan apple
tree in the corner of the yard.
Now this apple-tree was Widow
Pyne's glory nobody in Sawyer had
such tree; and she petted it like &
baby, dug about it with her own hands
manured it every fall and gave it cOpi.
Gus libations of dish water all through
the summer. No tent-worms ever founC
| lodgment in its thrifty branches; anG
in May it was always pink with bios
SONS, for Il tree so coddled had no "of
year," but bloomed and bore in every
J returning season,
1t was ''a sight to behold,n as it.
: gratitied owner remarked, and Jim's
r admiration was so fervent, Mrs. Pynt
r could not do less than reward him will
pocket full of the glowing fruit. jim
: was duly gratified, and logged on hii
way revolving scheme in his simple
mind which fructified, literally, as he
l found himself at Miss Vance's door
l Miss Nancy came out for her pint o
5 milk looking unusually benign some
of the small items that make up lonely
! women's life had been gracious tina
5 morning; perhaps her bread had risel
t just right, or her hens had done theil
$ duty in the matter of eggs but, how
+; ever that might be, she had kindly
; word for Jim and he poured her full
v pint with beaming grin. "Stop
D minnit, won't ye;" he called after her
!, won't ye jest set down that are milk
a an hold up your apern here's some O
S Miss Pyne's amazin' apples"