The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1882-03-23
THE LONGEST DAY IN THE YEAR.

oaiu doout IL, Out IAN Salu IL was TIT
longest. and Dan was certainly the on,
who understood the matter best.
1t began pretty much like other DAYS
only that there was heavy fog, anc
Dan knew that it was bad weather fol
haying, and tip-top for fishing. HI
made up his mind to go fishing. Per
haps, if his mind had not been alread,
made up, he would not have minded Sc
much when his father said at the break
fast table:
1--WE must get the scythes in good
order, SOS to take a fair start at the
lower meadow tomorrow. Don't lei
me have to waste time hunting after
you, Daniel, when I'm ready to 90 at
it.n
Daniels appetite was gone at once.
How he hated to turn that heavy creakino
old grindstone! and how sure his father
was to find a 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 chaise.
Old Whitley had his nose down. and
one leg crooked in meditative fashion.
The Deacon was over in the field, max
ing 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
a 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 frightened little face at the
chaise window, and knew that Nanny
Dane, the Deacon 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. ard
be spry about it!'' called his father, as
ne 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
ough little hands were blistered on the
handle, but he did not know it; his
mouth and throat were as dry as the
'tone, but he did not think of it. "Crrr-
'rrr-crrr, rang the rough, wearisome
loise, until his ears were so deafened
he did not even hear it. For he was
perfectly sure. he had killed little Nanny
Jane. What would people sayp 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 almost
! satisfaction.
There said his father at last. 81
eckon that II do, Daniel. You've been
aithful and stiddy at your work, and
low you may go fishing"
Dan never knew how he got to Long
'ond, or how he passed the slow hours
Il that dismal day. The misery seemed
and before evening he had
made up his mind that he could bear II
10 longer. He would 60 home and tell
lis father, he would tell everybody
they might hang him. they might do
they pleased.
Iramping desperately home with his
mpty basket in his hand, he heard the
ound of wheels behind him, dragging
lowly through the deep sand. Pertains
hat was the Sheriff coming to arrest
i'm. Dams heart beat harder. but he
I'D not look around. The wheels came
earer; they stopped, and some one
aid:
Hullo, Daniel! been fishin'p Fish |
rman's luck, heyp Well, jump in here.
nd I'll give We lift.''
Before Dan knew it he was over the
vhecl and sitting beside Deacon Skinner
4 the old chaise, with Whitley switch
ng his tail right and left as he pIodded
long.
Get up, Whitley" urged the Dea- |
on; its getting along toward chore-
me. Whitley amt so spry as he used
. be, but he's amazin' smart. This
lornin' | left little Nanny in the shaw |
vhile | was making dicker with Sol
mon Murray, and a keerless thing il
7as to do, but I'd as soon expected the |
leetln'-house to run away as Whitley. |
reckon something must scarf him; but |
e just trotted off home as stiddy as if |
d been driving, and waited at the door
'r mother to come and get Nanny be- |
ore he went to the barn.
On, Deacon Skinner" burst ont
IAN, 1T was me; scarf Whitey.''
DID ye now, sonny? Well, there |
.uzn't any harm done, and know va
idn't mean to.'' y
- did, did," said Dan, sobbino yio-
,ntIy from the long strain of excitement.
l didn't know Nanny was in the chaise
nd l threw stone at him.
Wen, well" said the Deacon. rub
ing his stubbly chin, and looking curl
usiy at Dan. beats all what freaks
oys will take, but / know We WON'T do