Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1885-04-02
JUNGLE STAETOM'
s,oer or a,rur cEsrrR.'


A o ON 4rHE cEsrER."
The first time / saw Uncle Stanton
he was standing at the open doorway OF
his shop, rubbing his hands on a leather
apron. His face was stained with the
black dust OF the forge, and great beads
of perspiration rolled down on his brow
from under his confusion OF h1r-hair
On thick that / used TO wonder the pos
sibility Of a comb. He was short IN
stature, with q small featured face and
restless blue eyes. de was bent by toll
and his careworn expression gave emu
phasis to a nervous habit Of twisting
one cornor of his apron when he idied
for a while. He was q shabby old man,
but on a Sunday Gt was always called
"the Sabbath" at the Center he would
don a threadbare suit OF ill-fitting bread
cloth in which he was very Ill ut ease.
Everybody about the Center-and for
that matter, everybody else for miles
away-knew him as uncle Stanton"
He was generally respected, and doubt
IL there were any SO well informed IN
the rise and decline of the old place.
Yet he had not always lived in the
Center. Years ago when Joe Wheeler
died, there appeared to be no n at
hand 30 take his place at the forge. Joe
had built the shop in the early days
when the Center promised to be much
moro than the pivot whose radius was
then marked by "Kirby Run" and Dea-
con Greene's vineyard. The dear old
Deacon! / can see him now with his
freckled face, and hair as red as the au-
tumn color Of the leaves which used to
fall from the big maple tree in front OF
my old home. The vineyard was ON
the side Of the hill, steep enough to free
it from stones and brush, yet not so
steep but the Deacon could keep his
foothold, and work all through the hot
summer days. How often have L seen
him with his head bobbing above the
green leaves, and how often have L
heard HIM ask for the folks at home
with Goods blessing upon theml"
Well, Joe had mended the wagons
the ploughs, shod the horses and been
considered pretty handy" for many
years, but it did not occur to one that
a time would come when Joe's tools
would be idle for the want Of his hands
to use them. Joe had provided for this
emergency. I've writ TO Uncle Stan
ton, Marthy," he said to his wife when
he found himself no longer able to rise.
Hes q sartin sort of a man, and a
good one to take hold of the smithy. i
never seed q time when he missed the
mark he aimed at. and I've knowed him,
Marthy, q powerful long while. You
see we growed up together, he was on
common sharp, and likelier nine, but |
got the start somehow and went away,
and Stanton's been trudging along the
same old rut."
SO it came about that four days after
Joe Wheeler had been put in the little
yard back of the Methodist Church
whose steeple covered with rusty
tin marked the Center for many miles,
the big, creeky doors OF the shop once
more swung open, the smoke Of the
forge was then seen curling out Of the
tall red chimney, and Uncle Stanton
gratefully welcomed his first customer.
We became acquainted easily enough,
NV first visit at the shop vas with hand
some gray Billy, who had cast a shoe,
l can recall even now the noise of his
hoofs as they clattered over the oaker
floor, and the wonderment expressed
in the glance Of his noble, bright eyes
as Uncle Stanton bent down and crit.
ically examined his hoof. Billy had
great many friends, and / believe it wal
never decided which was the better an
imal, mine or the lean dark bay which
the aggressive Mr.. Mullens, the mea
peddler, constantly drove.
They've had q bad time over at tn,
Kirby's / heard" Uncle Stanton said Il
me, a. he paused over a shoe which h
was hammering into shape. 1.-TWO fun
erals less'n a week. I didn't beliey
Rube would pull the second girl througI
he amt much on fevers, not so muc
as Young Hawkins. He beat the worl,
on feyers. Now, there was Southworth'
boy over at Pineville t'want a week be
fore he was up n about, and that CAV
Jim a settin' up. They oughtt to have ha
Jim, to my thmkin'."
And so Uncle Stanton would rattl
on. The gossip OF the village all cam
to him somehow; he never forgot wha
he heard, and very little happened in til
place hat did not in some shape or 9th
er reach Uncle Stanton's ears. Concern
ing himself, however, he was straagel
reticent.
Sometimes / would stop at tue sho
door in the early evenings when the su
was setting back Of the hills an
! throwing its golden mellow on the roof
of the f~armhouses and lingering in tn
tree tops. Uncle Stanton always sa
there smoking his pipe, and when h
had no one to talk to would gaze off uI
on the road in dreamy silence. He Away
had q CHEEKY sort of welcome for me
and I always used to think that he wa
!, frser with me than any n else. Pei
haps il was because 1 was very young
. One day-it vas a year or more afte
I had made Uncle Stanton's acquaint
. tance-he said 10 me suddenly. "Davy
my boy, the world isn't so very big, an
the people in ii often run amuck whe
they don't calkerlate."
> We were ~lounging at the doorway
; and Uncle Stanton was seated on th
. raised floor with his back against th
easement, p pressing down the tobacco i
his pipe with the end Of his stubb
finger.
, What is il uncle ?" Iqueried. Their
seemed to be something on his mind
l and / fancied he wanted to talk to me
/ "Sit down here, and I'll tell you
/ little story. It's q story there's non
: left to tell but me, and I'm agoin' to /,
: ye hear it, Dayy. because you've bi
d good and kind and because in y'r fac
, I've found the only comfort I've ha
) many a long day. You don't know ho'
those eyes of your'n have gone 10 m
haark hon. tha,,v~ l.z,~L4 -