The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1884-05-28
Another Case Of the Wrong Sunday"


think how often in books, the plot, or
main idea, is the same? A situation is
repeated, only with different actors and
different stage appurtenances, year in and
year out, from the first recorded history
to the present day. 1t is not Shakespeare
only who pleased his freakish fancy with
q comedy of errors. He had many proto-
type, and many a repetition since that
day. To err is human we like to err
and when unable to mistake each other,
we are ready to mistake things. Readers
of Jules Verne will remember how the
impenetrable Englishman, Phileas Fogg,
went around the world in even less than
eighty days, but did not keep the right
account, and and by the mistake of day
very nearly lost his wager In somewhat
the same way Deacon Weaver lost sight
of the day of the week, and in this case,
lost the wager too. He might not have
called it wager, being opposed, on prin-
ciple, to any such arbitration of chance;
still, it was one, and, as such, he lost it.
To begin at the beginning, however.
Deacon Weaver's old red farmhouse
lay at the foot of hill, sunnily fronting
the south and, secure in this sheltered
nook, put to defiance the keen windss At
its left was the orchard in front, road
that led to the village a mile away,
where the white church steeple rose like
beacon and across the road, Just oppo-
site the house, was large, commodious
barn. The late eastern spring had put
out few buds by way of experiment,
and, although snow yet chung to the hill
sides, the fields were bare and brown.
~, thn Iau ,ho,, 30 or ha
air was deliciously mild, and the dea-
cons three sons were seated on the barn
steps, enjoying it, They had finished
dinner, and were waiting for their father
to 60 with them to the field, Meanwhile
they were grumbling.
Grumbling must be one of those imita-
tive words which, philologists tell us, were
the first approach to language--a rum
bling, muttering monotone of discomfort,
hardly ever rising into the decisive &C
cents of wrath just an obstinately kept
up accompaniment to the everyday events
of life. Everybody knows that an habit
ual grumbler is very unpleasant person
to live with and, had the Weaver boys
been of this class, their story, quite likely,
would not have been told. But their
grumbling was only semi-occasional, and
circumstances went far to excuse it. They
we're always in state of repression; no
allowance was made for their youth, for
boyish fun or boyish wishes. Their father
prided himself on being strictly just; but
this must have been mistake on his part !;
strict justice does not 60 with such utter
hardness and the deacon was so infexi-
BILE that he would much sooner break than
bend. No halfway measures for him.
"When say thing, mean it," was his
were concerned, it was always, Do this =
do that and if instant obedience was
not given, the whip fell. " Not word -
he would say. "Do as 1 tell you-that's
all l want"
Mrs. Weaver was, herself, of com.
comfortable, kindly temperament, but
could do little toward softening her hus-
bands harshness. She, too, lived in fear
of it, and obeyed with anxious prompt.
tude. Still, in one way or another, she
contrived to make life tolerable to the
children. She it was who noted the pa
ternal weather-signs, and gave the young.
sters warning; who baked cake IS for them.
surreptitiously, and in many an unnoticed
way put into their young lives some of
that interest and variety their father
would have crushed.
So time passed on until the boys were
thirteen, fifteen and seventeen years of
age, respectively strong, active fellows,
able to do good days work, and required
to do it, except in the winter months,
when they went to district school. But
amusements they had none. They never
went nutting like other boys they never
visited. When they went to the village,
it was always on an errand, the length of
their absence fixed, and woe betide them
if they exceeded it. And just now, seated
on the barn steps, they were discuss
their latest grievance. The night before
there had been lecture in the village
an account of travel in the Holy Land
illustrated by panoramic views. This
was an entertainment so innocent and
pariseworthy, SO cheap, too-only ten cents
admission-that they really hoped, fol-
once, they might be allowed to 60. They
had asked permission, and been refused
their mother had pleaded their cause-iu
vain
"No, no." said the deacon, " you needn'
say any more. My minds made up.
won't have any skylarking on my prem
ises. The Bible tells us as much abou
Jerusalem as decent people need to know
Get Jerusalem in your hearts, and there'l
be enough of it in your heads. You
needn't talk; you can't go
That's the way it always is" growlet
Bill, the youngest, as they talked the mat
ter over.
eyes," said Charley, never was any
where in my life, except at the stores O
the Westinghouse. don't mind so mucl
about the circus, for, of course, fathers
deacon, and he wouldn't think that wa
respectable. But-a lecture it's to,
bad"
"And," added Isaac, " 1t isn't as if vi
were like some boys in the neighborhood
who are always loafng around and spin
ming street-yarn. We are not running of
and out nights, and letting the work go.
Charley, the oldest, gave little kick t.
the step by way of emphasis to his feel
ings. "Pm seventeen and Just achinl
for chance at little more schooling
But father'll never hear of it. 'Can you
spell through the spellin'. book p h,
asked, the other night; and when / sale
yes, could, 'Well,' then says he, go owe
it again. When was boy, spelled
through it forty-four times As if a fel
low ought to waste his brains in doinJ
forty-four times what eleven times would