Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1881-02-02
Seeing Better DAYS.


The strudy gossips of the seaside viii
lage, who went about with their skirts
tucked up and their bare brown arms
ready and able for any work, looked as
kance at the Widow Minton, with her
ptiful meagerneSs of aspect, her lickering
black eye, and her trailing old gown.
They nudged each other. and said. "B Bet
ter days-Lord save usl"
But the widow did not trouble the
Eeighbors much. nor they her A body
who couldn't do heartsome hands STIR
ring was best left alone to her brooding;
and the widows smoky little cabin, solita-
rily apart on the seashore, was left pretty
much TO herself and her son Tom
Tom was u strudy, brown. faced lad
who picked up living by doing odd Jobs
for the boatmen, and now and then taking
"a day fishing. Tom had probably never
seen better days. The widow shook her
head over him-so stupidity content, poor
Tom! so beaming and good natured over
beggarliness ana hopelessness. A tail,
well grown fellow, with bare feet, torn
straw hat and Il red shirt. Tom took the
world easily, looking with reverent eyes
on his mothers by-gone gentillty, but by
no means seeming to covet it for h mself.
The minister of the parish. mistaken
soul, deemed it incumbent to make Il call
upon the widow; and on charity bent, it is
said he invariably offered to employ her
services in his household for Il season
He deemed it his duty to rouse the old
woman to activity.
lie did not rouse her; and it is averted
that he never found time to call at the
cabin again. Did he take her for Il COM
mon house drudge, or "a low born field
hand? She thanked God she had too
much spirit left yet to put herself under
anybody's feet. He hadn't far to 90 to
find plenty of drudges and diggers, but he
might 90 farther before he knew lady
when he saw her.
1t might have been the afternoon after
the good mans visit that the widow sci
idly brooding in her cabin door. Her eyes
had II wandering far away look, and her
face was keener and thinner than ever.
Beyond that bluff whicn sheltered her
cabin stretched far line of sea coasl, the
white sand cleaning sivery in the snn
Far off group Of bathers, in bright
dresses, froicking between shore and
water. They came from the great hotel
down beyond; she could almost catch the
sound of their voices as she sat rocking in
her doorway. 1t was quiet afternoon
the air was soft and soothing, and
the widows heart so full of bitterness,
felt itself sweeten and soften in the still.
ness. This part of the shore, sheltered by
the overhanging rock, was seldom disturb
ed by inlruders, but presently the watch
er's eye caught sight of young girl
oh; frnlinly yinf in, hn
beyond the rocks. 1t was pretty sight,
the rounded arms, the curving shoulders,
the swaying floating figure, And perhap,
the old woman recalled with "A sigh the
time when she was young and blithe too.
and had as CHEEKY - voice as that with
which the fair swimmer hailed her com
panions in the distance.
Gazing absently on the smiling scene
revery fell upon her ear, and when she
looked again the young wa(er-nymph had
disappeared, She had probably swan
ashore behind the rocks. The widow
turned away, hugging her thin shawl over
her shoulders, and thought the sea wind
was chilly. Iark! What was lhatP Surely
she heard Il cry. No merry shout Or ring
ing laugh this; it might be the cry of "a
wild bird on its way to its mate.
She couldn't have got beyond her depth,
the Young creature! But la! what of it if
she had? Dying young body gets quit of
II great deal of troubie-yes, surely tina
was scream. The widow looked sharply
out, Would Tom never come? The tide
was rising, and-and certainly something
was The matter. She called-she beckoned
hanlically to the bathers beyond-they
seemed both blind and deaf.
No one, not one soul, at hand and that
young thing in peril of life! A minute she
stood still, listening feeble old woman,
with haggard, scared face, to whom no
one would have dreamed of looking for
help.
can't stand this she said. Seems
might pull out that old scow myself.
Tomr she screamed, with II yell that held
the contracted energy of ten years. But
no Tom appeared. And it was the widow
herself, with those withered old hands
that disdained the minister's kitchen work
it was the widow herself, who. strainng
Juggling, and with her gray hair iuttering
in the wind unloosed the old dug.out from
its moorings, and trembling. unskiliul,
armed with rude paddle, went spinning
out dizzily over the water. 1t leaked, the
old scow; it scorned the broken paddle
and the broken oars, but finally it came
drifting out blndIy and dizzily to the OBJ
jecl of her search. A plump hand with a
glitterng ring upon 1t, clutched the edge
of the boat, and nearly upset it. A young
eager face with streaming hair looked w
from the waves, and, gaspng, shuddering.
half-drowned, and wholly scared, the
young water-nymph was presently aboard
the old craft.
oh how frightened wasr she cried !;
| felt sure | was losing all my strength
and would go to the bottom. Oh, you
good soul; you dear good soul. how ever
did you ever get to me in this water
logged craft.
1t has seen its best days, certain, said
the widow, tugging at the oars
You don look able for such work,
said the girl.
L have seen better days was the quiet
answer.
And then-oh, sufficient reward of all
her efforts this real lady, this fair young
girl with the soft hands and the pretty
bathing dress, actually replied, thought
So
Here, give me the oar she added still
painting. But, my dear soul. well never
be able to row down to that point where
left my clothes, and | can't walk to the
hotel; I'm awfully tired. Can't you put
me ashore at your place, and send word
for me down yonder?'
The little dark cabin on the shore
frightened up with an unwonted luster as
the widow sheltered her young charge,
and changed her wet garments for some
of her own.
If my Tom would only come I'd send
him tor your things
oh, no matter, III wrap your shawl
about me and walk down myself after I've
rested a bit. I'm not hurt, you know, only
scared. Dear mo, how was scared. My
old nurse used to teach me not to scream
l.. IL