Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1881-12-28

A NEW YEARS STORY.

1t was the last day in the old year,
and yet it did not seem much like winter,
though the maple trees were bare and
the flowers all dead The oaks were
covered thickly with leaves. True, when
the wind blew it rustled through brown,
dry foliage very different from the living
tiEts of months back; but when you
looked at the soft, muddy roads, or the
clear blue sky, you scarcely realized that
Is was just past Christmas.
John Hudson, keeper of the lighthouse
at Fishing Point, was brushing his
weather-beaten coat (once black; now
almost " sage-green y, and giving part
ing directions to John Hudson, Junior
called "Jack" by his famihars. "Now
mind and don set the house on fire while
i am gone. [ must fix that chimney
when I get back, or we'll be burnt out
yets and don't take to fooling with the
oH-there isn't very much of it left now.
There's that cord of wood in the yard; [
guess you had better fill the wood boxes,
aud pick up bit. | guess the inspector
VIII be round before long, and we want
to have everything taut and trim when
he comes. Get your dinner when you're
ready; may be back in time, aud may
not, with all these e1rands to do in the
village; but anyhow, | shall be home
this afternoon. Good.by, sonny" and
the he tramped briskly away through
the trees.
"sStub Stub! here, sir. You must
stay home with me. Father don't want
you. There's rat, sures I live! Sick
IT, Stub S-s-s-sick it p'
"Now," said Jack, after an exciting
oh 4 l. III
and barked most powerful duet, snow,
Stub. We'll wash the breakfast dishes
xoRft we?"
Stub looked a knowing assent, and sat
gravely on 3 chair (Which he first
knocked the cat off, while Jack washed
aud dried the few dishes as def as girl.
He had lived here as long as he could
remember. His earliest recollection was
looking at the bright reflector up stairs,
and seeing in it a sweet, loving face,
With tender blue eyes, near his own. His
next memory Of the face was in a coffin,
pale and still, while his father held his
shAnd, and the minister from the village
talked III low sad tone. But this was
years ago, when Jack was Gas he would
inform you) ''only little fellow" Now,
from his dignifed age of ten years, he
feIS himself arrived at mans estate. His
father was formerly sailor, but in con-
sequence of losing some of his fingers in
the Icy regions of the north, he had to
accept the position of a lighthouse
per-loving the sea too we'll to think
for moment of any work furtherinland.
Such stories as he used to tell Jack in
the winter days, when they would be cut
off by snowdrifts from the rest of the
world Such thrilling adventures de-
lighted the boys ears In the long, soil
taxy evenings. Stories of the time on
Labrador, when tremendous whale cap
sized a boats crew, and two men got
drowned; of the mutiny that once broke
out on the Fair Betsy, and the sneaking
italian who got put in irons for start
ing it.
Jack would go to bed with &c creepy y
kind of feeling after these stories, but
the morning light always drove away the
shadows, and he would VOW to himself
never to let such ridiculous stories
brighten him again. Stub, let's play
Robinson Crusoe in the yard, now the
dishes are all washed; Jane Ito the cat,
you can come, too, if you want, " said
Jack, opening the door. Stub accepted
the invitation for himself and Jane by
making a Dart at her as she lay blinking
near the stove, and rushing her out
doors with scant ceremony.
g This shed here shall be the cave,
and I'll wear fathers fur cap and be
Robinson Crusoe. You can be Friday,
Stab. You are black and you dOn't
know much; and Jane shall sit up here
on Che woodpile and be the parrot. Now,
Friday, you just stay there while / go to
get some sticks for the wood-box;" and
Jack, making his work into play, worked
with will, while the waves romped and
tossed about on the shore like merry