St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1884-11-13

| Hdtcn as sort OF SuDterfuge, Tor he
knew the boy could not light it in the
morning breeze, as it requires a pecu-
liar knack, which old smokers practice,
to shield the flame from the air. He
was right, for it was blown out imme-
diately, and Arthur didn't ask for
another, and put his pipe in his pock-
ct. The driver, too, after a few whiffs,
abandoned his, and they rode on to-
gether without further allusion to the
subject. They didn't lack for matters
to talk about, and, after n very agree
able Jaunt over the country roads, they
arrived at their destination, where Ar
thur met with warm reception. The
driver said something aside to Mr..
Vernon, the farmer, whereat they both
laughed. ..
Glad you've come, my lad" said
his Uncle Vernon shaking him by the
hand. "We'l make q man of You
Hope you haven't brought any bad
habits with yOn, though. The last boy
we had was a great smoker. Bad thing
about a farm"
.Ak ~ felt his face tingle, and just
then touching the pipe in his pocket,
it seemed to burn him, but twas con-
science that gave the smart. He said
nothing in reply, but wished the pipe
in Jericho. Yet he did not throw it
away, and all the balance of the day
and evening he wished to indulge, but
did not dare to, and went to bed with
out smoking.
In the morning he was up early,
did the "chores" around the place,
and, after breakfast, went out with his
uncle to drive the horse while plow-
ing. Farmer Vernon, though very
amiable man, that morning acted
strangely. Nothing seemed to go right
with him. The morning was bright,
but he was as dark as a London fog,
and his feeling seemed to pervade ev-
| erything. The horse and oxen would
not pull, and he belabored them with a
big stick the burrows that he managed
to run were crooked; the plowshare
would stick in the sod or jump out of
| it /; and at last he sat down upon his
plOw and wiped his brow with his
handkerchief. Then he turned his
pockets inside out, as if in search OF
something.
"Arthur," said he at last, "you must
so down to the grocer's and get me a
| piece of tobacco
The grocer's was a mile away, as
Arthur knew, for he had been there on
former visits: and, though he did not
refuse, he didn't very readily assent.
"Uncle," he said, ''won't this do p
taking his own supply from his pocket
and handing it to his uncle
"Why, of course it will How came
you by it ?"
'I-I got it thinking 7 might learn
to chew"
His uncle looked at him with aston
ishment.
"You learn to chew!r he said, Sc
verely.
"Don't you let me hear of such &
thing !" at the same time biting Il piece
off ravenously.
"Why not? you chew"
eyes, yes, but You are not old
enough. 'Tis different matter witt
me.n
GLOW old were you when you be,
gan :"
"Well, there, no matterl Drive OIL
the horse and we will get tLis piece
plowed up in no time"
Good nature was restored, the horse
and oxen never did better, the sward
cut like cheese, and all because of Il
little bit of tobacco. This Arthur pom
dered as he sat upon his horse. He
saw in his uncle's experience what
might be his own, and resolved, then
and there, to be free. He slyly took
his pipe from his pocket and smashed
it against the wall. Day by day, re-
Election upon the course he had re.
solved upon gave him strength, ard he
was happy. There was true manliness
i'll what he had done. His uncle was
in the habit of iudulging in an evening
pipe, though he had kept it a secret
from Arthur, but one night the boy
caught him at it, in the kitchen, ful
blast. His uncle seemed little EN-.
barrassed at being detected.
"Td advise all young people," sait
lie, "tO avoid tobacco"
"And I'd advise older ones TIL,
same" said Arthur.
'Twould be well if they did," re
spOnded his uncle, mournfully, "but
can't"
What melancholy admission o
servitnde this was And Arthur fel
it keenly, rejoicing more and more IL
his good resolution, and with firme
determination to keep it, which he did
and wrote letters back to his ole
schOolmates, advising them to smasI
their pipes and avoid entering the ser
vice of King Tobacco, the nastiest dy
nasty that ever had control in tn,
world B. p. Shllaber in the Con
| DrpOafinualjSt