Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1882-01-04
THE BARRETT ICE PRIVILEGE,

A few years ago there were six u
the Barrett family; At the time when
my story begins. only Rob and hi'
mother were left.
The first Barrett came over in the
May-nowcr, as second officer, and there
had been sailors among them ever
since.
But Captain Barrett, Rob's father,
was lost in the great September gale,
son Georges :" John, the oldest, was
buried of Cape Horn Jim sailed from
New York as first mate Of ship that
was never heard from, and Joe was
lost overheard from the Polaris in the
Artic seas.
Rob, who was I'm active, good look
ing scholarly hoy Of sixteen, had in
hcri,cd the same iondncss for the sen,
peculiar to the family.
"Bnt the little mother wont hear to
it, so | must stay as | ann" he would
say, with laugh.
For Rob had some old-fashioncd
ideas of duty to his mother, not too
often met with among boys of the
present day. and he carried them out to
the fullest extent.
They were quite poor in them days.
The captain had left nothing but the
small onc-story house by the sea, and
thirty acres of worn-out land, sloping
up from the shore, in the midst of
which was "the tcn-acrc lot," as it
was called by the Covert people, though
the boys always spoke of it as the
"quaking bog"
The surface was composed OF moss
and matted grass, which sank down in
a very unpleasant manner when one
stepped his weight on it. Sometimes
a venturous boy poked his leg through
this vegetable covering, and went home
with his trowscrs in pretty state for
underneath was ooze and soft, black
mud, which was popularity believed to
extend clear down to the center of the
earth.
The swamp-lot was kept constantly
water-soakcd by the springs and small
streams which flowed into it from the
ledgy hills above the house, and was
regarded as absolutely worthless
rather an injury to the little farm thar
otherwise.
They kept a COW, few sheep and
some hens. Rob cultivated a small
vegetable garden, and, when he was
not at school, caught hake from his
dory, within sight of the little white
washed house-this of course in the
summer time, when the sea was toler-
ably smooth.
For the dried hake sounds brought a
dollar pound at the store, while the
fish themselves, when properly cured,
formed with salt mackeral, no small
part of the winters provisions.
The widow Barrett was a bright,
eheery, little woman, simply content
with what God saw fit to make her lot.
Her greatest anxiety was for Rob, that
he should have good education, for he
was a most excellent scholar consider
ing his scanty advantages. and an
omnivorOus reader withale
"Don't worry, little MOTHER" Rob
would say-''the way will be opened
somehow )" for realizing, as he grew
older, that he could probably never
crafty his great longing for sea life, he
made up his mind that, for his mothers s
sake, he would give it up entirely and
turn his attention to something else.
Rob was on his way to the Covert
post-oflice, on certain October morn
ing when he was overtaken by one Mr..
Arad Potter shrcwd and not scrupul-
Gus speculator, who had made money
in various ways ever since he began
trading jack-knives in his extreme
youth.
A very sharp man was Arad, not
content, as the neighbors used to say,
unless he had both ends and the middle
of a bargain. lie wore his hat very
much on one side, sported Black Hill