The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1882-03-04
THE LONGEST DAY N.THE YEAR.

THE LONGEST DAY IN THE YEAR.
l don't know what the almanac man
said about it, but Dan said it was the
longest, and Dan was certainly the one
who understood the matter best.
1t began pretty much like other days,
only that there was a heavy fog, and
Dan knew that it was bad weather for
haying, and tip-top for fishing. He
made up his mind to 90 fishing. Per-
haps, if his mind had not been already
made up, he would not have minded SO
much when his father said at the break
fast table:
"We must get the scythes in good
order, SOS to take fair start at the
lower meadow tomorrow. Don't let
me have to waste time hunting after
you, Daniel, when I'm ready to 90 at
it.
Daniels appetite was gone at once.
Howhe hated to turn that heavy creaking
old grindstone! and how sure his father
was to find dozen things to do first,
and keep him waiting all the morning!
He went around by the sink drain, and
dug his bait; he examined his fishing
pole; he put up his lunch; he even tried
a worm on the hook; and then he wan
dered disconsolately around, wishing
grindstoneS had never been invented.
He went to the end of the garden, and
leaned sulkily over the low stone wall,
eating the half-ripe harvest apples, and
throwing the cores spitefully away.
Down the road few rods lay the mill
pond, and in the middle of the road
near by stood Deacon SINNERS horse
and chaisc.
Old Whitley had his nose down, and
one leg crooked in meditative fashion.
The Deacon was over in the field, max
ing a bargain with Solomon Murray for
some young cattle. What fun it would
be to start the old horse up, and set him
trotting home! Dan could almost hit
him with an apple core. He tried two
or three, just to see, and then he picked
a smooth round stone from the wall,
and sent it singing through the air.
Old Whitley brought up his nose with
jerk, Strengthened his fore-leg, and
started off at brisk trot, the chaise top
fitting and pitching back and forth.
Dan laughed-at least the laugh be-
gan to grow, when he caught one
glimpse of a frightened little face at the
chaise window, and knew that Nanny
Dane, the Deacon's little lame grand
child, was in the chaise.
1t was only glimpse, and then the
bank of gray fog swallowed Whitley and
the chase, and it seemed to Dan that
they had gone straight into the mill
pond.
Daniel. Daniel! Come on, now, and
be spry about it!'' called his father, as
he moved toward the grindstone; and
Dan obeyed, though he felt as if his feet
had all at once turned to lead.
Round and round and round; his
tough little hands were blistered on the
handle, but he did not know it; his
mouth and throat were as dry as the
stone, but he did not think of it. ''Crrr-
crrr-crrr, " rang the rough, wearisome
noise, until his ears were so deafened
he did not even hear it. For he was
perfectly sure he had killed little Nanny
Dane. What would people say? What
would they do to him? Hang him, of
course; and Dan felt in his heart that he
deserved it, and that it would be almos:
a satisfaction.
There" said his father at last, 81
reckon that'll do, Daniel. You've been
faithful and stiddy at your work, and
now you may 90 fishing
Dan never knew how he got to Long
Pond, or how he passed the slow hours
of that dismal day. The misery seemed
intolerable, and before evening he had
made up his mind that he could bear il
no longer. He would 90 home and tel
his father, he would tell everybody
They might hang hin, they might dc
anything they pleased.
Tramping desperately home with his
empty basket in his hand, he heard the
sound of wheels behind him, dragging
slowly through the,deep sand. Perhap:
that was the Sheriff coming to arrest
him. Dams heart beat harder, but he
did not look around. The wheels came
nearer; they stopped, and some one
said:
Hullo, Daniel! been fishin'? Fish
erman's luck, hey? Well, jump in here
and I'll give we a lift
Before Dan knew it he was over the
wheel and sitting beside Deacon Skinner
in the old chaise, with Whitley switch
ing his tail right and left as he ploddeo
along.
."Get up, Whitley" urged the Dea
con; ''itls getting along toward chore
time. Whitley amt SO spry as he useC
to be, but he's anazin' smart, Thi
mornin'f left little Nanny in the shay
while was making a dicker with Sol
ONION Murray, and keerless thing i
was to do, but I'd as soon expected thu
meetin' house to run away as Whitley
reckon something must scarf him; blu
he Just trotted off home as stiddy as i
I'd been driving, and waited at the doc
for mother to come and get Nanny be
fore he went to the barn. - hlO
"Oh, Deacon Skinner" burst on
Dan, '''it was me; l scarf Whitley"
"Did We now, sonny? Well, Their
wpznlt any harm done, and i know y
didn't mean to-" -, 1t-.j t'tsI
81 did, l did," said Dan, sobbing vic
lently from the long strain Of excitement
II didn't know Nanny was in the chaise
and / threwa stone at him. ~ q
,.Well, we'll, said the Deacon, rub
bing his stubbly chin, and looking curl
olsly at Dan. Cheats all what freak
boys viii take, butI Know We won't d