News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1884-01-03
A CENTURY AGO.


an old, neglected Ms. To the fire OF
to my private shelf? Which?
These were my reflections as I looked
over the papers of my late uncle, the
rector OF Somersefshire village.
liked the look of the book and de-
cided for the shelf; and l had my re-
ward, for I found in the Grabbed char
acters simple story, evidently written
toward the close of tine writer's life.
This story now transcribe into more
modern STYLE
Hell be fit fer nothing" said my
father; San awkward BOBBY who holds
his awl ard cuts his food with his left
hand"
So said my father, and so, alasi 1
felt. / was awkward. 1 was fifteen;
thick-set, strong, but terribly clumsy.
I could not make a collar, nor sew a
pair of bliDkers, nor stuff saddle, nor
do anything that ought to be able to
do. My fingers seemed to have no me-
chanical feeling In them. I was awk-
ward, and knew il, and all knew it.
L OcA huOH HutSt lie > Ilt IOT, SalO
my father to the rector of the parish.
"I've set him to carpentering, and he's
cut his finger nearly off with an ak;
then he went to the smith, and burnt
his hands till he was laid up for month.
It's all of no use; he spoils me more
good leather In week than his earnings
pay for in a month. Why cannot he,
like other Christians, use his hands as
the good God meant him to? There,
look at him now, cutting that back strap
for the squire with his left hand"
1 heard him; the knife slipped, and
the long strip of leather was divided in
a moment and utterly spoiled.
''There now! look at that A piece
out of the very middle of the skin and
his finger gashed into the bargain
The rector endeavored to soothe my
fathers anger, while 1 bandaged my
finger.
''You'd better let him come up for
that vase, Mr.. Walters; 1 should like
case to fit it, for If is very fragile, as all
that old Italian glass is; and line it with |
the softest leather, please"
And so I went with the rector to bring
back the vase, taking two chamois
feathers to oring it in.
We reached the house, and waited in
the passage while he went to fetch it.
He came baekwith large vase, tenderly
wrapped in the feathers. Alas At that
moment there came from the room,
against the door of which was stand |
ing, the sound of voice singing. A |
voice that thrilled me through voice
L hear now as I write these ines-so
clear, so sweet, SO pure as if an angel |
had revealed itself to me.
L trembled, and forgot the precious
burden In my hands; it dropped to the
ground and was shattered to pieces.
How shall 1 describe the rector's
rage?
She who had the angel-voice-his
nlece-came out and / saw her. I for
got the disaster, and stood speechlessly
gazing at her face.
''You awkward scoundrel ! look at
your work. Thirty pounds Fifty
pounds An invaluable treasure gone
irreparably in a moment. Why don't
you speak? Why did you drop it ?"
drop it, l said, waking up. "Drop
what?" And then it flashed upon me
again, and l stammered out, ''She
sang -
Sand if she did sing, was there any
occasion to drop my beautiful vase, you
doubly stupid blockhead? There, go
out OF the house, do, before you do any
further mischief, and tell your father to
horsewhip you for a stupid dolt."
NY father heard of my misfortune, and
laid the strap across my shoulders with
ont hesitation, for in my young days
boys were boys till eighteen or nineteen
years old. 1 bore it patiently, uncom-
planingly.
''What is he fit for P' everyone would
ask, and no one could answer, not even
myself
L wandered about the rectory in the
summer evenings and heard her sing; I
tried hard to get the old gardener to let
me help him carry the watering-pots,
and when I succeeded, felt, as 1 entered
<tse fector's garden, that 1 was entering
paradise.
Alasl alas ! my awkwardness again
banfshed me. She met me one evening
in the garden, as I was coming along the
path, with my cans full of water, and
spoke to me, and said:
You're the boy that broke the vase,
aren't you?"
81 did not, could not, reply; my
strength forsook me. 1 dropped my
cans on the ground, where they upset
and flooded away in a moment some
seeds on which the rector set most
especial store.
'sHow awkward, to bo sure ~ she ex-
claimed. "And how angry uncle will
be-"
turned and fed, and from that time
the rectory gate was closed against me-
One Sunday she sang as I had never
yet heard her, not loudly, but so ten
derry, so lovingly; l knew the change
had come-she loved; it thrilled in her
voice; and at the evening service he was
there. saw him. A soldier, knew
by his bearing, with cruel, hard, gray
eyes; and she sang, knew it. / de-
tected a tremble and gratitude in the
notes. I felt she was to suffer, as I had
not that I sang. / had no
voice. A harsh, cultural sound was all
I could give Utterance to. 1 could
whistle like bird, and often and often
bave / lain for hoursin the shade of a
tree and joined the concerts in the
woods
One day / was whistling, when I was
tapped on the shoulder by an old man,
he cobbler of the next parish,