The Portland daily press., 1888-04-14

ing IL; Number Ten in the big straw bed,
where she lay always between her parents;
Number Eleven in her cradle beside; Nine
crosswise at the foot; Eight, Seven, Six,
Five and Four In the other bed; One, Two
and Three curled. up. without taking off
their miserable garments, on clocks" of
straw beside the kitchen stove.
Mary Ann knew very well what Peter was
moving round for She heard him groan, so
low that he did not know he groaned, when
he lifted off the cover of the meal barrel, and
could feel nothing whatever therein. She
had actually beaten the meal out Of the
cracks to make that last pot of mnsh He
knew that all the fish he had sailed down In
the summer were gone, that the -four was all
out, that the last morsel of the pig had been
eaten up long ago, but he went to each Of the
barrels as though he could not realize that
there was really nothing left. There were
four of those low groans.
30 God, help him Do help him please
doP she kept saying to herself. Someway.
all her sufferings and the children's were 20
light to her. in comparison. rs she listened
to that big taciturn man groaning, and him
sore with the hunger!
When at last she came ont, Peter was not
there. He had gone out silently, SO silently
that she wondered and was scared She
opened the door very softly. and there he
was, leaning on the rail fence between their
little rocky plot and the great river She
closed the door as softly and sat down.
There was wide steaming space in the
river, where the current ran too swiftly for
any ice to form. Peter gazed on It long
while. The mist had friendly look The was
soon reminded OF the steam from an IMMENSE
bowl of musf 1t yexed him. He looked up
at the moon. The moon was certainly mock
ing him; dashiLg through light clouds, then
jumping out into wide, clear space, where
it soon became motlonless, and Knocked him
steadily.
He had never known old John Pontiac to
jeer any one, but there was his face in that
moon-Peter made 1t out quite clearly. He
looked up the road TO where he.couid see,
on the hill half mile distant, the simmer
of John Pontiacs big, tin-roofsd house. He
thought he could make out the outlines of all
the buildings-he knew them SO well--the
big barn, the stable. the suiokehouse. the
storehouse for shanty supplies.
Pork barrels, -four barrels, herring kegs.
syrup kegs, sides of frozen beef. hams and
fiitches Of bacon in the smokehouse. bags Of
beans, chests of tea--he had had vision of
them all Transfers going off to the woods
daily with provisions. the supply apparently
inexhaustibIe.
And John Pontiac had refused to pay him
fair wages!
Peter in evaporation shook his big fist at
the moon; 1t Knocked him VERSE than ever.
Then out to the space Of mist--it was still
more painfully like mush steam. His pig
sly was empty, except Of snow; 1t made him
think again Of the empty barrels In the
cabin.
The chilcren empty. too. or would be to-
morrow-as empty as he felt that minute.
How dumbly the elder ones would reproach
him and what would comfort the younger
ones crying with hunger?
Peter looked again up the hin through the
walls of the storehouse He was dreadfully
hungry.
.'John! Johnw Mrs. Pontiac logged her
husband. John, wake upl There's some
body trying to get into the smokehouse."
I "Eh-ugh-ahl I'm 'sleep-ugh~ he re-
lapsed again.
/ ''Johnl Johnl wake upl There is some.
bedyw
What gh-eh-what you say?
There's somebody getting into the smoke
house,, h W
"Well, there's not much there"
There's ever so much bacon and ham.
Then there's the storehouse open." ~
''Oh, guess there's nobody
"But there is, I'm sure. You must get
mp!p
They both got up and looked out Of the
window. The snow drifts, the paths
through them. the storehouse, the smoke
house and the other whitewashed out-build-
ings could be seen nearly as clearly as In
broad day. The smokeheuse door was
open! q ~
Old John Pontiac was one OF the klndest
souls that ever inhabited . body. but this
wasla little too much. Stiil, he was sorry
for the man, no matter who, in that smoke
house-some Indian probably. He must be
caught and dealt with firmly; but he. did not
want the man to be too much hunt.
He put on his clothes and sailed forth.
He reached the NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. was no
one in it; there was gap, though, where
four long fiitches OF bacon had been!
John Pontiac's wife saw him go over to
the storehouse, the door Of which was open,
too. He looked in, then stopped and started
back as If in horror. Four fiitches, tied to-
gether with rope. were on the floor, and in
side was man filling bag with -four from
barrel.
"Well, well, this Is terrible thing" said
old John Pontiac to himself, Shrinking
around the corner. "Peter McGrath! Oh.
my! Oh myi"
He became hot all over. AZ If he had done
something disgraceful himself. There was
nobody that he had respected more than that
pig-headed Peter. What to do? He must
punish him. of course, but how 2 ,Jail-and
him with eleven children! "Oh, my! Oh.
my!" Old john almost wished he had not
been awakened to see this terrible downfall.
at win never do to Let him off with IT," he
said to himself after little reflection. "Pll
put him SO that he'll know better than this
another time"
Peter McGrath, as he entered the store
house, had felt that bacon heavier than the
heaviest end Of the biggest stick Of timber he
had ever helped to can't He felt guilty,
sneaking, disgraced, he felt that the literal
Devil had first tempted him near the house,
then suddenly-with his own hunger pangs
and thoughts Of his starving family-swept
him into the smokeh0use to steal. Buthe
had consented to do Is; he had said he would
take floor too--and he would-he was so OBJ
stinate. And withal he hated old John Pom
tiac worse than ever. for now he accused
him OF being the cause Of his coming to this.
Then all Of a sudden he met the face Of
Pontiac looking In at the door
Peter sprang back-he saw Stambrook Jail
he saw lhis eleven children and his wife
he felt himself detected felon. and that was
worst Of all.
well. Peter. you'd ought to have come
right In" were the words that came to his
amazed ears, in John Pontiac's heartiest
voice. 1.-THE missis would have been glad to
see you. We did 20 to bed bit early. but
there wouldn't have been any harm in an
old neighbor like you waking us up"
''Not Mord--hold oni listen to me. 1t
would be pity IL old friends like you and
me, Peter. couldn't help one another to
triAinO loan Of nroyieiane militant m q hing a