Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1885-05-29
BORROWING A HAMMER.
BY CHARLES EGBERT CRAppocK.

On certain bold crag that iuts far
over the steep wooded slopes of Cross
mountain a red light was seen one
moonless night in Isae. Sometimes il
glowed intensely among the gray nilsts
which hovered above the deep and SOM
hro valley, sometimes it faded. It's life
was the breath of the bellows, for
blacksmith's shop stands close beside the
road that rambles along the brink of the
mountain
Generally after sunset the forge is dark
and silent. So when three small boys,
approaching the log hut through the
gloomy woods, heard the clink clank
clink clank of the hammers, and the
metallic echo among the cliffs, they
stopped short in astonishment.
"Thar now" exclaimed Abner Ryder,
desperately dads at it fur true!"
'Mebbe he'll 60 away arter a while,
| Ab," suggested Jim Gryce, another of
the small boys. "Then that'll gin US
our chance"
"Waal, reckon we can stiffen mp our
hearts ter wait" said Alb, resgnedly.
All three sat down on log short
distance above the shop, and presently
they became so engrossed in their talk
that they did not notice when the black
smith in the pauses of his work, came
to the door for breath of air. They
failed to discreetly lower their voices,
and thus they had listener on whose
attention they had not counted.
eye see," observed Alb, in a high,
shrill pipe, dad sets heap O. store by
his tools. But dad, ye know, air a
mighty slack-twisted man. He gifts his
tools lost, an reprehensively) he wastes
his nails. An then he lows how ez it
war me ez done it."
He paused impressively in virtuous in
dignation. A murmur of surprise and
sympathy rose from his companions.
Then he recommended.
dad air the crankest man on Cross
Mounting He won't lend me none O
his tools nowadays-not even that little
hammer O. his'n. An I'm obleeged ter
hev that thar little hammer an some
rails ter fix box fur them young squir'ls
what we cotched. So we'll jes' hev ter
go ter his shop of night when he is
away, an'-an-an' borry it!'
The blacksmith, tall, powerfully
built man, and of an aspect far from
jocular, leaned slightly out of the door,
peering in the direction where the three
headed urchins sat on the log. Then
he glanced within at leather strap, as
if he appreciated the appropriateness of
an intimate relation between these OBJ.
jects.
But there was no time for pleasure
now. He was back in his shop in mo-
ment.
His next respite was thus entertained.
"What makes him work SO of a
uightW asked Jim Gryce.
"Waal," explained Alb, in his usual
high key, she rid ter the settlemint this
mornin'; he hev been foolin' round
thar all day, an the crap air jes' a suf-
ferin' fur work. So him an Uncle
air layin' thar plows in the shop now,
kase they air goin' ter run around the
corn ter-morrer. Workin', though,
goes powerful hard with dad emmy time.
/ tole old Bob Peachin that when | war
ter mill this evenin'. Him an the t'other
men thar LATED nightly at dad. An
latfed to!"
There was an angry CLEAN in Stephen
Ryder's stern black eyes as he turned
within, seized the tongs and thrust 9
piece of iron among the Goals, while Tobe
who had been asleep in the window al
the back of the shop, rose reluctantly and
piled the bellows. The heavy painting
broke forth simultaneously with the rec
flare that quivered out into the dark
night. Presently it faded; the hot iror
was whisked upon the anvil, fiery sparks
showered about as.the rapid blows fell
and the echoing crags kept time will
rhythmic beats to the clanking of th'
sledge and the clinking of the hand
hammer. The stars, high above the far
stretching Cumberland mountains
seemed to throb in unison until suddenl,
the blacksmith dealt a sharp blow on tn,
face of the anvil as signal to hi
''striker, and the forge was silent.
AS he leaned against the jam of tn
door, mechanically adjusting his leathe
apron, he heard Abs voice again.
sold Bob say he aint no 'coun
sca'cely. He lowed ez he he'd knoweC
3 him many year, an fund him sneak
in, deceivin' critter.
The blacksmith was erect in mo
ment, every fiber tense.
'That aint the wust," +" Alb gabbled on
"Old Bob say, thought faint know
ginerally, ez he air gin ter thievin'. Oh
Bob lowed ter them men, hangin' roun,
tie mill, ez he air the biggest thief o
Cross Mounting"
The strong man trembled. His bloc
D rushed tumultuousiy to his head, the
seemed to ebb swiftly away. That thi
should be said of him to the loafers &
the mill These constituted his littl
world. And he valued his charactt
as only an honest man can.
He was amazed at the boldness of tn
lie. 1t had been openly spoken in tt
. presence of his son. One might hay
= thought the boy would come directly
him. But there he sat, glibly retailin
it to his small comrades 1t seemed a
so strange, that Stephen Ryder fancie
there was surely some mistake. In ii
next moment, however, he was col
yinced that they had been talking {
him, and of no one else.
Y 'I tole old Bob ez how thought the
oughtn't to be so hard on him, ez
want there to speak fur hisself."
All three boys giggled weakly, as
Il this were witty.
L 'But old Bob lowed ez ennybot
mought know him by his name. A
then he told me that old sayin'-
"'Stephen, Stephen, so deceivin',
q Thatod Satan can't believe himrn