Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1883-09-05

was ten years old. She wrote:
"DEAR UNCLE! DO come to Inc at once, The
| roses are in bloom, the cherries ripcning on the
| trees, and DO need yOu so terribly! want coun
| sci, help, advice! DO come Affect Olgately,
PAULINA MORRISON.
Commodore Chesson smiled on the
hurried note as he read it.
"What is the matter with the prec-
ious little humming-bird now" he
said to himself. as there little
cloud no bigger than mans hand
across the horizon of her domestic
bliss? Well, well, | will go to her. |
never had a daughter, but when | am
with Paulina, / can imagine how a
fathers heart is stirred with the deeps
of tenderness"
He went to Briar Lodge, and he had
a long chat with Polly, before her huS-
band came hcme
Vincent was glad to see his uncle
lie was always glad to see the bland,
courteous old veteran; but he was a
little mortified when Polly joined
them, after tea, with an infnitcssimal
smudge across her nose.
"My darling" said he, "what is that
on your face"
Polly glanced at the glass.
"Oh?" said she, rubbing it off with
her pocket handkerchief; "blacks. I've
been doing the kitchen range Such
job"
Vincant cleared his throat with
some embarra,sme
Cant you give us little music
Polly?" he said.
But Mrs. Morrison shook her head.
"Couldn't, possibly" said She Il
ran a little splinter into my finger this
morning, scrubbing the kitchen closet
floor, and it has been poulticed ever
since. Besides, since l have been
doing Bridget's share of the cooking, |
never get any time to practice. One
can't do two things at once, you
know"
Mr.. Morrison rose quickly.
"Shall we 90 down to the stables9"
he said to his uncle. "The roam horse
has something the matter with his
foot. Perhaps you could advise me
about ii"
But, once arrived at the stables, only
one stunted little lad could be found
in charge of the premises.
Owen" Mr.. Vincent called, some
what impatiently; "Owen. What can
have become of that lazy fellow?
Where are you, Owen
"Oh," said Commodore Chesson, care
lessly, at is Owen Linn you are call
ing. / sent him about his business
this afternoon! A great, lazy, hulking
fellow that don't earn his bread,
What do you need of anybody more
than Billy here?"
Vincent stared.
"But who is to groom the horses?'
said he.
"Do it YOURSELF" said the commo-
dore, briskly. "Why, when | was
your age, l could have groomed a
whole stableful of horses before break
fast every morning, and not even feel
it. An able-boded man like you has
no business with such an army of re
taners A man is best served when
he serves himself. That is my max.
im."
Mr.. Morrison winked, involuntarily
as if an unexpected verbal shower-bath
had decended on his head.
"And about that horses foot" said
Commodore Chesson. "lt's the shoe
ing, l dare say. Nobody seems, nova
days, to understand how to shoe a
horse"
"Wixon, down by the Windmill has
pretty fair idea of his business" be-
gan Mr.. Morrison.
Nonsense !" said he. "Do it your
selfr
"What? Shoe my horse?" exclaimed
Morrison.
"Why not? A man ought to know
everything about his own stables"
said the commodore. "Get the iron.
Set up a little forge. Make your shoe,
and you'll be sure it is properly made.
Shoe your horse, and you'll be certain
he's not crippled by clumsy hands"
"Tm a little afraid that it might be
the other way" said Vincent, rather
ruefully. l don't know anything about
such things"
"Then you ought to learn" said
Commodore Chesson, with a cheerful
air.
81 shall miss Owen, dreadfully |"
grumbled Mr.. Morrison.
"Don't accustom yourself to be de-
pendent upon any one" said the CON-
modore. ut is never IA good plan.
Here's this fence falling down. Are
you going to allow your property to go
to ruin in this sort of way?"
"Pll speak to the carpenter to-mor-
! row. said Vincent. family. -.