St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1881-10-07
VOLUME 45---NUMBER 23O6.

be, she often thought. wearily, until
her hands and feet and heart were still
in death. -.,
The corner clock struck nine, and the
deacon laid aside his paper; Mrs. Hey
worth's opportunity had come at last,
the moment she had waited for anX-
iOusly. Something must he done.
Oh, if only | could say something to
convince him His heart is kind and
good enough, if only it could be got at
kind o. like green moss, and shining
shells under the water when it is frozen
over-easy enough to be got at when
the ice breaks and floats away"
"Father :" she commenced, desper-
ately, college begins next week !"
"Yes, l know - and the deacon's
voice expressed slight irritation.
"Willie does want to go so bad,
pears like it's shame for the boy to
be disappointed"
The Deacon became flint.
"I've explained to William my rea-
sons for not letting him go to college.
| told him he could not go. and when |
say thing | mean it | have set my
foot down"
Eyes yes know, but | do wish,
Nathan, you wasn't quite so swift at
'settin' your foot down., as you always
say it's mighty aggravatin' some
times, for you never pretend to ask me
what | think of such or such things,
and for all I'm so quiet like, and don't
say anything, | feel it nevertheless,
and I've begun to wonder when my
time1l come" -
The Deacon gasped, and his wife,
throwing away her last remnant of
timidity, continued
eve have been married now nigh
onto twenty-five years, Nathan, but |
can't remember the time when | ever
set my foot down that such n thing
should or should not be done ~
She paused "A moment, with the scar
let staining her face like some bashful
girls, and her husband, watching the
new light in her usually dropping eyes,
stammered out, with fast expiring dig
nifty:
'I-I'm surprised. | am, Hannah ;
| am surprised ~
'"That's very likely" answered his
wife, meekly ; ''we are always sur
prised if a person ventures an opinion
different from our own, and | suppose
you are all the more surprised at my
attempting thing | never did before
but it's gone on and on, until | can
stand it no longer, Nathan, and l must
speak. I've worked long and hard fol
you now mOre'n twenty years. Many
and many's the night I've gone to bed
too tired to sleep, and it pears like I'd
never get rested any more. Mary amt
stout, you know, and all the brunt OF
the work comes on me. | look old and
feel old to be only forty-tive, and it's
the hard work that's done it hired
girl would have been mighty helI
and a blessing sometimes, but You
never seemed to think about it, and
never grumbled any, for | loved you
all the same: but sometimes, when Eve
thought it all overland I've done il
hundreds and hundreds of times-it
teches mighty close to be always sci
aside like nobody at all, and have my
wishes and opinions continually talked
against, for ! never forget that | an
your wife, Nathan, and have an equa
right with you, to say what should Ol
should not be done !"
Her voice trembled for a moment
| but the deacOn's amazement was toe
great for words, and she hurried on
"There was never better children
| than ours for smartness or work, anC
anybody'll say so that knows 'em bu
because they'll mind every word thai
you say, and never grumble when yOr
cross 'em, doesn't make it right thai
you should deny them every privilege
and enjoyment.
"YOung folks always hanker afterfun
and it don't make them any bette
Christians to be always quieting then
down when they are laughing or sing
ing their merry songs. There's Thorn
as the boys heart is set on going t.
singing school-he can sing more song
now than | ever knew in all my life
and he takes so natural like to TIN
notes and tunes-I don't see why yOl
can't let him 90, Nathan, for it wOul'
only do good, he's always so happ.
when he's singing, and God know
sorrow comes soon enough to mos
folks. Mary wants to go to school 81
bad that she cries every morning whel
she sees the boys and girls go by.
know | couldn't do all the work, bu
hired help is easy got, and you'd neve
miss the money that would pay gil
her wages.
"Now, as to Willie's going to college
| don't want to appear contrary, Ma
than, but I've wanted it all along, an
| do think the boy ought to go. 1t
my notion he'll never make farmer
he's too set on his books not but wha
farmer can be as smart as anybody
but it's not in nature to do one thin
well, when your whole heart and sol
are hankering after something else.
''No | say let Willie 90 to college
and let Mary go to school, and Thoma
to the singing school, if they want {
go it'll do you good, for there's non
of our children going to he any of til
ignorant stock, let me tell you that.
''Of course you can't do the work, nC
: body expects you to but you've e
the money that'lI hire it done, and it
great deal better to he few dollar
ont of pocket and have the love {
your children than to leave it all
them after while, and mebbe hay
them feeling glad when you're gone.
, 81 think, sometimes, per'aps if ye'
been little more kind and gentle-lik
2 to Elizabeth, she might IA"
, 'Mis' Heyworth Hannah !" exclain
ed the husband, with suddenly avail
e ened dignity, 81 hope you'll not a
!. tempt to blame me for what that siI
4 full girl may have done; me, IA deacon
b And he clasped the chairs arm firml.
while his feet took an amazed jun
= from the fender to the floor.
+ "Being deacon doesn't help IL
e matter bit, and won't help you, eitl
: er, when it comes to the last, and
;, you have not tried or done anything
T make any one else happy, Pm afra
there will not be much happiness fl