Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1885-01-09

Of various corns aud bunions. His home
made lined trousers were rolled up nearly to
the tops of his boots. His upper garment
was the usual wooden "wRmus" q contrac-
tion of "warm us" perhaps buttoned at the
throat, but tied together at the waist by the
long front corners. His scanty white locks
were covered by tall, stiff leather cap,
which rose in point fully ten inches above
the head of the wearer, ss II II might be q
crown, or perhaps priestly head-covering.
He sat in strange, pontifcal chair or
throne, formed from the stump OF tree aris-
ing through the floor, and whose roots yet re.
mained in their primitive earth, and whose
shaggy sides formed the arm and Gothic high
pointed back, Gothic architecture being the
most natural to the woodsmen who walk dsi-
ly in the beautiful vaulted aisles Of Gods
own creating.
The old man was smoking, and looked out
from amid encircling wreaths at the intruder,
who quickly answered his question with An
other.
"Mebbe you can tell me how far it is to
Tadmorf"
'It is about five miles, answered the old
man, without removing his pipe from his
mouth.
"And how's the roads2 Be they tol'able
middlin' ?"
The roads are quite good, was the man's
reply.
There was a marked contrast between the
uncultured speech Of the itinerant preacher,
and the grammatically correct language Of
the stump enthroned patriarch, and as great
a contrast in their tone and manner That
Of the preacher was genial and frank, betok-
ening the open heartedness and brotherly
feeling so universal among men reared in a
new country, where common tolls and COM
mon dangers render all men friends and
neighbors that of the old man was gruff,
ret.cent, even cynical the manner Of q man
reared where the chances in life we're few
and unequal, and men regarded each other as
strangers, or more probably as possible op-
ponents in the struggle for existence.
"Haint much acquainted over TO Tsdmor,
be yer Don't du yewre tradin' thereT
mo- we generally trade at Main"
''You can't tell me much about Tadmor
folks, then2 What kind O. folks they be,
good or notT"
They're good enough, what there is Of
them, and enough Of them such as they are, "
growled the patriarch between his pipe. sealed
teeth.
The reverend questioner laughed.
Got putty smart sprinklin' o. human ma
ture, l ledge. find that putty gin'ally the
case tares and wheat, weeds and flowers,
needn' good weedin out every onct in a
while, TO keep 'em in anything like fair pro-
portions. suppose yu go to meetin' over tu
Main, tu. What persuasion are the heft Of
the folks over there -
During this dialogue the girl had risen
from her lowly position before the fireplace,
and with a well ''sopped" potato in her hand,
had gradually approached the speakers. Her
features wefe Drowned with the sun, ard
comely with the curves of youth, but they
owed nothing to art. Her straight, thick
black hair was drawn into a tight knot at the
back of her neck, and apparently had not
| been combed that day. for numerous untidy,
stiff locks and fringes protruded rebelliously
on all sides. Her dress of ''linsey. woolsey
was coarse and scant, revealing q pair OF
| sturdy brown feet and ankles below its folds.
Its original color was obscured with age and
the CRIME of dish washing and cooking, and
was protected by no apron. but was adorned
| by few patches of materials foreign in col
or and figure to the original.
As the preacher paused for an answer to
his last query, she stepped quickly forward,
and whispered in the patriarch's ear. A
CLEAN of awakened interest momentsrily
lighted up his face and he glanced keenly al
! the stranger, and nodded.
Mr.. Dundy drew himself up, and, scratch
ing his head in a slightly embarrassed man
ner, guessed he'd better be jogging along,
or he wouldn't get to Tadmor before supper. y
casting q regretful glance in the direction oi
the "pig-fry."
The girl advanced a stop toward him, gig
gled little, took a bite of her potato, and
asked in half sheepish manner:
Aren't you preacher
There was the same correct pronunciation
that WAS 80 noticeable in the old man the
same good grammar, but in every other re-
spect the girl seemed the very embodiment
| of rusticity.
II ami" replied Mr.. Dundy, in solemn
! tones the humorous wrinkles of his face al
once overpowered by the sanctimonious ones
This might be a trembling lamb seeking tc
find the way into the fold.
Can you marry meI" giggled the girl.
A look of horror, mingled with embarrass
ment, now took possession OF the preacher
face aud he stammered, hesitatingly;
"Why-you see-you know-why, seein
as have wife already"
II didn't mean that, )" interrupted the girl
petulantly.
"She meant to ask you il you were author
lied to perform the marriage ceremony.
''Ob, sartin, ssrtn," exclaimed the minis
ter, rubbing his hands jovially in the relie
hs experienced in finding that be WAS onl.
asked to officiAte as clergy man and not a
bridegroom.
"Sartin, l kin splice ye tighter than
door-nail. Jest bring along yewre young
man."
Not waiting for the close of the sentence
the girl had sped from the room, and tn
patter of her bare feet could be heard reced
ing from the house.
''She knowed was preacher by my cloze
l guess, observed Mr.. Dundy.
The old man nodded, and growled betweel
his teeth:
"Any one might know it, workingma
don't travel about in a 'shRd- belly coat oil
week days"
Mr.. Dundy seemed to regard this remaFl
as reflection upon the clergy, and turne
the subject by propoundiDg question;
"WhAt mout your name be ?"
Israel King" was the gruf reply.
No wonder that, with such a name he wa
crowned and enthroned as royal patriarch
"Hain't lived in these parts long, guess.
Several years"
''Hev ye, now2 But yu amt Yankee
II am an EnglishmRn and I'm not ashame
of it,"
"Waal, don't know why man should b
ashamed of his kentry onless he's done su'thii
to make his kentry ashamed O. him." an
then, feeling that he had given hit in retur
for the blow at the clergy, he resumed h
catechism.
COMPANION s-livin'T"
'No."
The minister shook his head sympAthet
cally.
''It's hard to submit to the DEGREES of Pro-
idence when yewre companion is taken away
I've lost two companions Already, an N
third is weakly. I'm almost afeared l sha
be out o. wives agin putty soon. s'pose th
gals your darterS"
"Yes," answered the old man musingly
for the preachers words had taken him baC
r in thought many years. He recalled hin
self, the youngest son of poor, but artist
cratic family in England, to whom he had o.
or been source of great anxiety. He ha
, rebelled against college, showed no liking Il
} law, fought determinedly against being maj
ufactuTed into a clergyman, consorted wit
game keepers and hostleEs, and finally seve
ed all ties between himself and home
. marrying the pretty daughter of a laborin
0 man and emigrating to America. After var
GUS wanderings he became possessed OF tn
0 piece of land in the Six Mile woods, and ha
Q built this little cabin.
How we'll he remembered how Polly helpt
to peel the bark that rooted their new-worl
: home, and how braVely she laughed over Il
a homely pioneer furniture, fashioned by b
\ clumsy hands hands not 80 deft and used
/. toll as were hers, yet he had tried-ho
a thankful he WAS for that, now-he had trio
. 10 bear the heaviest end of the burden al
save her all he could. But she pined for Il
u. IL