The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1881-06-16
CHAPTER III.

Several weeks TRANSFERRED during which
the neighbors called frequently upon Mrs.
Fisher, and some ventured upon word of
coincidence, which she repressed by simply
saying:
my good man is either sick or got bee
in his head, which I can't make ont, so VT
won't talk about it,"
In the meanwhile. John. aided
by Susan, grew more self-assured.
hints about the Greedy woodlot, a valuable
piece Of land sloping down to a beautiful
brook, clear as crystal, within which many
a speckled trout hid itself under the fam
tastic roots of the overhanging trees. It
was the spot of all others for rural church
or school house, and it was we'll known
that the preset owner had contemplated
donating it to one or other of these pur.
poses. Susan, who was not deficient in
imagination, declared it was just the spot
for pretty cottage, with garden sloping
to the brook.
The autumn was now come, with its
clear, frosty October days so lovely in that
! northern climate, and John was busy hous-
ing apples, and getting in the crops that
npen late. Susan, the brisk little woman,
was on the alert drying apples and spinning
tlax, counting the eggs and weighing out
is more CHEEKY than the harvest time at
good farmhouse.
A bright fire Of beech wood famed crack
ling up the great chimney, and the red
bricks of the hearth were rs free from
stain as soap and water could make them.
Mr.. Fisher sat in his big armchair twirlin8
his thumbs, while his wife piled her knit
ting needles ut his side. Susan was max
ing herself new gown, her mouth puckered
in resolute silence, while John sat in the
back room. his chair tilted upon two legs,
and his head against the wall, q perfect
picture of boorish, sullen discomfort; ut
length he broke out with:
II don't see, father, what you want to
give the Greedy woodlot to the town for.
well, John, we've been prosperous aad
are above board, so to say: and it's nothing
more than right that we should do some-
thing for them that'll come after us-for
posterity.'
"Pesterity nerer did anything for u.s."
muttered John.
Mr.. Fisher twirled his thumbs with a
comical smile and replied:
"True, John, and yet can't help think
ing of the third md fourth generation with
sort Of love, eh?"
II don't care pinch of snuff for poster
ity. Charity ought to begin at home" an
swered John. III. -
$50 you want THAT lot, John, do your"
said his father, musingly. I'm that case.
John, I may as we'll trust you to help on
education, and make yourself good name
ia your native town. I'll give you fair
chance, I'm sure." -: -. -"
Mrs. Fisher laid down her knitting with
q look Of despair, and Susan gave the FIRE
vigorous punch that sent tho flames roaring
up the big chimney.
"Give me the deed, John; it may as we'll
be included altogether" ~';t .s ::
Pen, ink, and paper were spread on. the
little round table, and Mr. Fisher drew his
chair in closer proximity to the fire. Open
ing the decd, he read, as he wrote on the
face ofthe document: RI
!"And give in furtherahce>of the above
considerations, the piece. oil land, also,
known as the Greedy woodlot, to have and
to hold by him and his heirs forever" etc.
John leaned against the chimney-side