The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1886-02-24

TeClbo w bho othcI DOyb-lOT, UcSlues
his work, he was trying to keep up with
his class"
Perhaps, Frank, his mother was
afraid he might meet with an accident"
Florence, dear, you always find
some excuse for us sinners. l thought
of that, but found / was mistaken-she
wanted him to work. l remember how
her father, Dea. Farley, used to work,
and how stingy we boys used to think
him; but somehow / never associated
Maria with him as much as with Mrs.
Farley, who was fine woman. l know
when Horace was married mother said:
If Maria is like her mother, she will
be as precious to me as an own daugh-
ter Things 1 had not thought of for
years were continually coming up be-
fore me when l saw the deacon in
Maria. 1t is too bad. 1 am sorry to
say it, but, Flossie, Horace is almost as
close as her father ever was, and she is
even worse. Poor mother, though she
lives in her own side of the house,
realizes that the flowers are disappearing
from their lives as they have from the
garden. 1t makes me sad, inexpressi-
bly, sad. You know l tried to bring
her home with me, but she whispered,
Pm needed here, Frank, till Harry is
a little older and stronger at least Pm
more worried about him than any of the
others. James and Nat are hard-work-
ing, honest young men, pleasing even
their mother. Mary is married and
managing her home to suit herself, and
that her mother is satisfied will tell you
all. John, the oldest boy, left home
;o,It af
were there together, and fortunately
fell into good hands, and Horace very
sensibly has allowed him to remain in
the office where he found work. He is
doing well, they say, and from what l
saw of him I should think so. 1t is
not pleasant thing, but cutting loose
from home was the best thing for him !;
and now, after more fully developing
the qualities that made things so OBJ
noxious to John, Harry, naturally much
like him, will, fear, take things into
his own hands. There ought to be no
place in the wide world quite so dear
to the heart as home, and something
must be done, if possible, to save Harry
from wrecking his own life and break
ing the hearts of the family, for know
they must have hearts somewhere"
"Buried pretty deep, l fear," said
Florence, for even she had grown lit
J tie bitter.
"Harry brought in some lovely red
leaves when l was there, and his
mother said: Garry them right out,
can't have things all litteredup.' Frank
doesn't seem to mind it if he is told to
stop singing and hurry up He
does so, but, like bird, while he works
he breaks out into another joyous carol
If he doesn't sing he whistles. One
day he said to me: Uncle, if you would
give us Nellie perhaps it would save oul
SOULS / think he really and honestly
meant just what he said, for moment
laterhe added: She and grandma might
leaven the whole lump. 1t is too much
for grandma alone, you know, though
she keeps us from being quite Hotten
tots.' Only for his peculiar remarks,
should have thought him a purely
happy, rollicking boy, in spite of hi
surroundings. When 1 told him
wished could bring him home with
me, he said, quickly: Take Harry
dop"
Frank, whatean we do? If mother
were strong enough to go or leave alone
and you would spare us with fon(
glance at the husband she adored-
"and they would have us, 1 may al
we'll say, Nellie and would 60 to Yer
mont and stay till we could coax then
to give us Frank and Harry"
90 no, for fear you would neve
come back, unless the boys were inca
pacitated for work"
CHAPTER III.
"Harry Grandson will 90 with us,
know. He never told me so, but HI
gets pretty mad cause he can't hav,
no fun; in course he does; guess 10
should if we had to be bossed round thu
way he is. You bet, his marm's {
driver, and he can't have no pigs no
=, dogs nor nothin' to play with. tradet
him rabbit once and she wouldn'
have it under her feet and eating VI
! everything she said, and he brought i
, back to me-and he actually cried.
pitied the little fellow cause he hadn'
mother like mine. l wouldn't rul
away myself, only / want to be hero
, like the boy in that book lent ye."
, a" o, sailors life is the life for me! p
sang the boy, who was one of larg
r family, who did as they pleased-smok
or swear, leave home or stay aroun'
the old house that was hardly larg'
, enough for the ever-increasing family
1t may seem strange that boy lik
E Harry Grandson could find pleasure i
the society of Jake Thomson, but yo
, must remember that in his own HON
everything was done by plummet an
+ line, and such excessive neatness an
a orderliness prevailed that the boys pocl
/. cts were the only places where the
( felt free to crowd fish-hooks and per
e ellis, bits of chalk and spruce gun
!. strings and marbles, broken knives an
e nails of every size, with the ct ceter
e that every well-developed boy has {
IS some time found most precious. Be
k sides, jake Thomson had an uncle, a
G old sailor and a wonderful story-telle
# and the yarns lost none of their fascini
ton, if little of their probability, whe
e repeated to the willing listeners he ofte
G gathered about him. Imagining h
e uncle hero, he impressed the othe
boys with the same idea when tellin
IL his thrilling adventures. There We
4 comparatively newcomer in towi
n and he, poor boy, had no father; an
e with a weak mother, who had no ide
l. of the manner in which he spent muc
, of his time, he had a faculty of fallin