Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1881-01-12

h0rses,' SAID she 10 hef son, VINO y
that moment came In with a hat iu
OF eggs and two wei and discouraged
little ducklags In m old Tin pal
knocking each other down in thel
trembling efforts to stand on thei
feet. "Come, come, we've oil beel
to breakfast"
"i'm on hand, mother, like u baske
of chips" said tho boy, setting dowI
bis load, and taking a hasty but seyeI'
scrub from the lip basin at tho bacl
door. "a iellor's got to ketch a Bit
as he eau git it, when the wimen folk,
want anything in this house"
The food being now securely har'
vested on dish aud platter was sc,
before him smoking hot. After O
hearty meal the boy arose from the
table and slowly wiping his mouth
on his jacket sleeve and, leaning on
the back OF his chair watched his
mother, who swept with heavy tread
from buttery to storeroom, gathering
q variety Of things on one end of the
kitchen table, which she was packing
into hamper.
Mlun Jim and bring me that piece
o fresh meat, in the little tin pail in
the well, and haul up the butter box
quicker"
"Mother, who's goin to git oil them
things anyhow r said Jim as return
ing he placed the dripping pail and
box before her on the table.
"Well, give ear now, for hain't
no time to talk twice.
"Slop to old Miss Buckley's and
give her this roll G. butter, and tell
her it's the tust real out and out grass
churnln' i've he'd this spring then
90 on to widder Jones and leave this
batch o sparrowgrass aud this piece
o roast and that rhubarb pie and git
away, for conscience.sake, afore she's
time to think where it comes from. -
Id ru,her be whlpt than to hear her
talk il all over to the Dorcas or the
prayer meetin', with the hull kit and
Doodle on 'em hearin' on her. low
the widder Jones is good neighbor,
but she does hang on like nor
easter and her tongue runs like a mill
clack. Come, now Jim, make tracks"
Jim shook the hay seed from his
hat, grasped the hamper and started
for the wagon house, but was not
destined to set forth so easily.
"Jim--Jlm Remin'ton-where be
your ears =
Jim was lucking well-worn buf-
talo over his ample load, and, without
looking up, shouted "TEey htched
on all right, mother. Go ahead y
There's lot O Grants l intended
to send by yer. Go round by jim
Busley's and tell him he can hoop my
barrels any day and bring me up six
more bee hives and ask Joe Slater
to come after the fust rain and plow
the Docia lot and then go on to the
store. I'm usin' up putty close to-
day. Tell Wells to send me two
pounds of his best store candles
my last dippin' runs so they'd be sure
to grease tho quilt dozen sticks
well, mabbe a matter of pound OF
cinnamon, ounce O nutmeg, six
good Juicy lemons. half a pound of his
best Hyson and my yaller box full Of
sugar.
"Good land aGoshen, mother, haul
out yer quill and fgger 'em down.
"My hands amt tit, no more, be yer,
Aunt Polly's she's nussin' yer ducks
ard Betsey's as busy as a bee in a
punkin blow. Come home around
by Squire Lyonses and ask Miss
Viney the housekeeper to change that
setting @ eggs with me and tell the
Squire (raisiug her voice) that Bet
sey's quiltin' comes off tomorrow and
she'll be desput disappointed if he and
Epoch don't come round 10 tea and
help us to shake the quilt in the
evening" ".
ooh! Mother Remington" said
Betsey, looking up with a disturbed
face from the fine table cloth she was
ironing; .you know ] don't want 'em,
at least, don't care about iheir COM
ing" -,.
"Betsey, child, don't be a tool'n
with good fortin'," said Mrs.4Reming-
ton, "Ive told yer pa q thousand
times when he was a livin' that you
was jest like him. Now that high
headedness O. yourn is real Reming-
ton streak. What in posset be you
goin' to say to folks that's as good as
any other noticenient tur'lino.'
Y. - Sh.. r..