Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1886-08-06
1alfs aud Skftfhes.
wOLF-RUN; A TRUE STORY.
BIZ NJ. G. REED.

When David was a little child. his par
ents died and he was taken into an elder
sisters family, to live with them until he
should be old enough to learn trade and
take care OF himself. Soon after this, the
family left the more thickly-settled south.
ern portion OF the State. and came to
build a home and clear farm on the
steep slopes of one of the green hills
whose base is washed by the mountain
born Winooski."
| The winter after David was ten years
old he was sent TO live at the house OF a
farmer down in the valley, that he might
attend the school near by. In those early
and hard working days, the first settlers
thought that such a lad was none too
young to be Of use, and David worked
for his board; fed the cattle. cut and
carried wood, MIXED, churned, and helped
the "women.folks" to spin and weave,
without once thinking he deserved more
play-time He was very fond of his SIS
ter, who was all the mother he had ever
known, and of Daddy" as ne called her
husband They were very kind to him,
in their undemonstrative and sensible
way, giving him the place in their hearts
of the children that had never come to
them.
A Sunday with his own people was a
fine holiday for the boy, and nearly every
week he hurried through his Saturday 8
stint" getting it done as early as posi-
Bile, that he might walk the three
miles before dark, returning early Mon
day morning tor another week OF work
and study.
This particular Saturday he had made
up his mind to 90 home. but the old farm
err and his wife seemed unusually active in
finding extra jobs for him to do; so that 1t
was pretty late before he was sole master
of his time until the new week came in.
But he was going home to spend that Sun
day; that he was resolved upon, and
little extra darkness wouldn't hurt him.
So off he started, just as it began to grow
dusk. for his long, cold walk across the
valley and mp the hills beyond.
There was just one house to pass upon
his road, standing within a quarter-ot-a-
mile of the place he was leaving, where
| lived Captain Merrill and his wife, an
elderly and kindly couple. AS David
neared this house, few minutes after
beginning his solitary tramp that night,
he saw the old captain in the yard split
ting wood for the next days use; for
Sunday meant day of rest to those
Puritan ancestors OF ours, and TO work on
the Lords Day was sinful thing.
"He's later than | was with my last
Jobs" thought David as he sung out Il
CHEEKY good-evening to the old man, and
stopped for just minutes chat fol-
neig hbors were obliged to be neighborly
then, to atone for their scarcity.
'Be you agoin' home tonight p asked
the captain, looking up from his pile O.
kindlings. ats ruther late to start, ain
itP"
While the lad was explaining the rea
son of his late walk and saying that hi
guessed he knew the way in the dark wei
enough. the voice of Mother Merrill wa
heard.
"Captin' Merrill. if that is David you
are talkin' to, don't you let him go stel
turther" Then, appearing in the door
way. she said to the boy, mind what
tell you, Davy, and don't you go through
them woods tonight, or the varmnt
| (wolves) will catch you. | heard ZEN
howln' last night. There's peck OF 'en
round Now you come right in and stay
till mornin' with us"
But David had not heard the wolves
neither had the captain; the ''varmints'
were getting somewhat scarce in those
parts not one had been seen all winter
| The boy wasn't inclined to be much fright
ened besides, he had set his boyish hear
on going home. After few words o
vain expostulatlon, Mrs. Merrill, who wa,
the captains captain, went back into tn,
kitchen, and taking from the fireplace {
long pine brand. well lighted at one end
she brought it out, saying:
Here. captain, give MIN this, if he:
sot and determined on goin, and don't lie
him stay minute longer, for Its CROWN
dark mighty fast. Swing it round you
| Davy, and it will keep alight.
clip it, as fast as you can; if the pes
ky varmints should come, you can scare
em off, guess, for they don't like tt
SINCE their noses"
With blithe goodnight" to the ole
couple. the boy started on again. AL
though the talk had lasted only few
minutes, the darkness had visibly in
creased, and when, half-a-mi further Oh
he entered the two-miles- long stretch o
woods through which lay his homewart
road, it was very dark indeed. He hadn'
taken much stock in the old lady's tear
for he had never seen any wolves in tina
wood, and most OF his knowledge OF then
was through stories which had been tolt
him of their former depredations. Blu
he liked the torch for company. it was 5,
dismallv dark, under the pine trees. A,
he trudged along he thought next time b.
was kept SO late on Saturday, he woult
take brand for tun. it made such ode
shadows up aloft among the branches
and shone so bright on the snow-covereC
road.
On he went, humming to himself softly
some of the psalm-tunes he and his siste
would sing tomorrow to Daddy's old vic
lin, and swinging the torch to keep it vel
alight. He passed spot in the snow tina
| LOOK ed as though some animal had rolled
or wallowed there.
"Old Lion must have been down here
to-day perhaps he came in hopes to NEE
me-"
And then he began to think what romT
he would have with the big. yellow shep
herd dog, when he got home; when ne
heard faint "whoo," tar away in the
forest-the only sound he had heard since
he entered the wood. besides the crunch
of snow beneath his feet and the crackle
of the brand he held While he stopped
to listen the sound was repeated, and for
an instant he felt his hair rising under hi,
cap; then he laughed and said
''Old owl, | guess you can't scare me