Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1883-12-19

evans 10 sllNcIN music sWlhlNlllSj
Floating with nrufed leather
Der the deep!
--Lucy Lmcom.
1t Turned Out All Right.
1t never rained harder than on
that particular October evening.
II they were to put me on the witness
stand in the Court of Common Pleas,
| should still reiterate that statement.
Sheets of water poured from the caves;
Aunt Sabina's big hogsheal under the
wooden conductor-trOugh, was brim-
ming full, the cutters along the road
Streamcd like miniature Niagara
rivers, and the sleepy old tune played
ceaseleSsly upon the roofs as | came
into the ow,ceiled sitting-room, where
Uncle job lay on the lounge, with his
brows all wrinkled with'pain.
"Well, Uncle job" | said, cheerfully,
chow did the dinner taste? 1t wasn't
bad for a raw hand, was it?'
did yoU cook that dinner said
Uncle job.
"Why, of course [ did" | answered
81 thought you had old Mrs. Lettsom
here"
"She couldn't come" said |. "Ier
daughter, down at Lcadtown, was
very sick. SO | turned cook myself.
1t wasn't such poor dinner WAS it,
for a girl who never handled stew
pan in her life bcGore:'
"Neyer ate a better dinner in my
life,' said Uncle job. "lIow did you
do it,
"Well,' said |, with little gleeful
chuckle, 81 got down the old cookery
book, and rallied all my common sense
around me. That was how | did it.
And now Pm going out to milk and
fodder the cattle and feed old Dobbin."
"You?' said Uncle job.
"Ies, l. Why not?"
at isn't a girls business" sighed
Uncle job.
But there is no one else to do it,"
retorted |.
This is how it happened: | had come
down from Albany to visit my uncle
and aunt, because | had dropped a
little after graduating at st. Agnes
school, and the old family doctor said
| needed change Of air.
Uncle Job and Aunt Sabina were
very kind, and | soon regained my lost
roses, to say nothing of most
devastating appetite. And Candace
the old colored servant, made perfect
pet ana playthlng OF me.
gathered ferns and MOSES in the
woods, hunted eggs in the barn,
sketched all the pretty points in the
neighborhood, and had even attained
to the enyiable degree of being able to
fire off Uncle Jobs ancient, double
barreled rifle, when crisis arrived in
our domstic affairs. Aunt Sabina
went to Vermont, to visit relative.
I'D better take the opportunity now,
while Marian is here to keep her uncle
company and read the newspaper to
him." said She
And she had hardly got there before
old Candace received tidings that her
brother was at the point Of death at
Saratoga; and off she went, promising
duly to return.
But she didn't return. Instead, we
got a letter, ill-spelled and written on
piece of yellow Wrapping-paper, in
closed in an envelope turned wrong
side out, with "Candace's respectful
duty, and she took up the pen to tell
us that Miles was mortal bad and she
couldn't nowhow leave him Just yet"
"What are we to do?" said Uncle
Job.
"Never mind" said |. "Ill keep
house."
But troubles never come alone.
That very morning Uncle Job slipped
on the cellar stairs and broke his leg.
| bandaged it, in cold water, as well
as | could, and sent little Harry Farley,
who CHANGED to be passing On his way
to school, for the nearest doctor.
"Old Doctor Jennings?' said the
lad--"or Doctor Walton?"
"Whichever you can get first" said
I, wringing my hands. "Oh, dc
hurry How do lknow but that in.
hammaticn will set in, or gangrene, or
something of the kind?'
The boy set off in II dog trot, and
that was the last saw of him.
AS the twilight closed darlly in, and
Uncle Job groaned occasionally, my
heart began to misgive me.
II wish | had gore for the doctor