News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1885-08-20
The Corner Plank.
BY MRS. HARRIET A. CHEEvER.

Sk o1hS hAhhlEI a. Ehs
A tall, plainly dressed boy, with red,
dish hair, freckled face, but remark.
ably fine eyes, was closing the gate of 8
little burying- ground in the village Of
Westbury.
A quiet, rural spot it was the young
fellow had just visited, but as he EN-.
erged from the gate and stepped into the
road, poor Phil Cushing felt as though
ne was leaving his very heart behind
him. He thrust his hands into his pock.
cts and murmured aloud, as if to reassure
himself:
well, I'll always remember every.
thing she taught me that possibly can,
and especially what she said that last
night. She tried to tell me so much
when she felt herself going, I'm afraid !
may forget some things; but she repeated
tT1ce, Remember, my boy'-wonder
who'll ever say, my boy to me again y
he drew his sleeve slowly across his eyes
at the tender memory, then went on
''yes, she said twice, Remember, my
boy, to perform every duty in the best
way possible, be it little or great. Men
may not watch or reward you, but God
surely will Now. it'll kind of seem as
though l was doing something to please
mother If l act right up to that advice
and Pm going to try for it, 1 am in
deed"
The lad was sixteen years old. end up
to within few weeks had attended
school, working when he could, and
helping In many ways his feeble mother,
whose pension ceased with her death, as
did also the small sum paid for the boy
up to his present age. They stopped
together, the mothers life and the bows
childhood vanishing at the same time.
Fortunately, Phils time had been
well improved. He had learned at the
village schools what many go through
long life without acquiring-the art
of speaking and writing correctly; and
in other studies he had made tolerable
headway. Then it had been delight
to him from his earliest years to watch
the village carpenters, either in the shop
or when at word outside.
First he had learned to plane lust for
the fun of it; then as he gradually grew
more expert in the use of various tools,
he would frequently help on some of the
palmer work, until finally he was hired
occasionally when those more expert
enced were too busy to be available in
certain quarters where a neat but not
difficult piece of work was required.
But now there were no tools in the
carpenters chest whose use Phil did not
know, and few with whose use he was
not practically familiar.
School days were over all too soon for
the orphan boy, and whereas he had
worked for pleasure chiefly, and to OBJ
tain unwonted luxuries for his dear
mother, it now became a necessity to i'm
prove every opportunity for earning a
dollar. thrown as he was entirely on his
own efforts for support He was nat
urally quiet and retiring, and, having
been his mothers constant companion.
was regarded by the other lads Of West
bury as boy whom they all liked, but
with whom they were only half ac-
quainted.
The kindly hearts of the merry lads
were touched, however, by the sorrowful
look in Phil's good eyes, for only a
month had passed since he had looked
his last on the dear face which had been
SO much to him, and, work as hard as he
might, the great grief haunted him and
hurt as only such sorrow can.
Fortunately, the early summer brought
a great deal of work for the carpenters
that year, and Mr.. Vinton, the chief
architect and master builder of West
bury, had several contracts on his hands
which necessitated his securing all the
help he could. One house and its ap-
purtenances claimed special attention,
as it was to be occupied by family
from the city as a summer residence and
very pretty and artistic the little dwell
ling was.
A thick plank walk was to be laid
around three sides of the house, and
Phil was intrusted with the task of fit
ting and laying this walk as neatly as
he could, and Mr.. Vinton felt assured
from former experiences that the boy
would do it with as much care as he
could himself, while urgent business
called him in another direction.
The completion of this walk would
finish Mr.. Vinton's agreement, as he
promised to have the place in readiness
for occupying the day after the Fourth,
and it was now the first of July. The
family was tarrying at the seaside until
the time when their country home
would be ready for them.
Phil promised not to be behindhand
with what he had undertaken, and the
night of the third of July found the
walk perfectly laid and matched except
at one corner, where a rather sharp point
would require considerable planning
and fitting in order that the heavy plank
should lie snugly IN its place; but Phil
concluded that in about two hours time
the work would all be satisfactorily
done.
He was gathering up his tools, as it
was growing late, and he knew he could
finish in the morning, when party of
boys came up, one of them addressed
him eagerly:
"Say, Phil, we fellows are going to
have picnic tomorrow over in Murray
Grove; the fishing in the brook is Just
elegant, and we're goin' to take along all
sorts of nice grub, and cook the fish we
catch, and have real jolly time as ever
you saw. We want you to come along;
you're capital at fishing, and we fellows
ire powerful sorry for you, and all that
you know. But you see our mothers
nave cooked up lots O. goodies, and we
won't have half such good time un-
ess you go too. You will now, won't
7ou9"
Phil's face worked little with emo
ion and pleasure. After all there was
,ome brightness left in life, so far can
tind words go, and it was with more
than he would have be-
ieved possible an hour before that he re-
,lied:
'rWhy, thank you / should be very
Had to go if can get my work done in
ime."
"Ain't a-goin' to work tomorrow, I |
hid hope!" cried merry Bobby Lee.
what kind of Hail Columbia cove do