The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1888-12-26
Selected storm.
March Winds and April Showers.

1t was dreary March day, cherries
enough without, but within Squire Bur
toms comfortable farm. house the fire
/ cracked and roared in the shining
stove, the copper tea-kettle Kissed and
aug, the tabby cat purred on her cush-
pm in snug corner and the louder the
ind shrieked without the more mer-
y piped up the canary from its gilt
&c in the baywindow. The good
fe hummed snatches of hymn as
L stitched away. inserting an invisible
Itch in the knee of the farmers barn
erals, and as the visitor in a sunny
brner by the pant-stand smiled up
tom her letter-writing to take in the
picture of CHEEKY comfort, she thought,
Cousin Sara has a great deal to be
thankful for that she has such husband
as Squire Burton"
The squire came in Just then, and as
he stepped about it was evident from
his frequent groans that he was suffer
ing deeply from an attack of the blues.
Z" Awful weather. he grumbled; it
seems as if the wind would cut me in
two If | 90 out to trim appe-trees, and
if | attempt to mend farming tools in
the shop | SILVER so | can not stay
there"
"Stay here, then, and visit for the rest
of the day." said his wife, cheerfully.
''There is nothing to drive you out.
There are plenty of fine days coming,
and it would be foolish after you have
kept warm all winter to freeze to death
in march,"
Might as well freeze to death and
have it done WITH" the Squire
grumbled on. cts awful hard times!
We're running behindhand year by
year. We couldn't sell this place to-
day for half it's worth"
We don't want to sell it," put in
his wife; we want it for ourselves;
we are satisfied with it, and so long as
it is not in the market it does not mat
ter to us what value is set upon it by
Others"
81 don't know as / am satisfied"
growled the farmer, as he pulled off his
heavy boots, leaving both boots and
jack for his wife to put in place, and
taking his slippers from their fanciful
pocket behind the stove. 8" am not
one of the kind to settle down in a rut
and stay there. There is nothing 90
ing on around here. No market I'M
less you drive two or three miles, and
we growing old and no children.
What's going to become of us? l don't
know. 1t looks dark aheadl'
Look beyond the darkness to the
light of heaven" encouraged the good
wife.
That won't keep US from the poor
housed" groaned the farmer, and,
oh dearl there's a rap at the door. No
one to pay bill, you may be sure, al
though there are plenty of them com
ing due"
cold this winter!' was the salutation of
the visitor. "Takes off your summer
wood, | guess, to have such weather as
this in March, and what is worse it
looks to me as if we were going to have
backward, cold spring"
e. know it," groaned the squire. I"
have been thinking the same thing
myself"
"Well, then, you know as well as
do there won't be so much hay as
there'd oughter be on that Brown place,
and | come on ter say that I've con-
cluded not to hire it, after ALL.
Very WE'LL" sighed the squire
" What the times are coming to | don't
know. | was just telling my wife that
we are land-poor and buildings poor"
Wall, that's So" said the visitor;
all these roofs'll need shinglin' some
day, and there will have ter be paintin'
done, and TN cost like blazes. It's an
awful bleak place, too; nobody'll want
ter buy it. Lots er room, ter be sure,
but it takes pile er wood ter heat it.,
an two folks we no need to use so much
room. Better live up in the kitchen,
say, through the cold weather." and,
drawing on his yarn mittens, he with
drew.
"Just as told you'll" said the squire,
throwing down his paper and curl
ing up on the lounge. We are all
going to the dogs! That Brown place
will be tenantless through the year"
I" 1t never was" put in his wife.
And we shall burn the summers
wood all up in spring at this rate and
90 to drawing wood from the lot on
wheels, something that never yet was
done in our family"
" We haven't begun to use up the
winters supply yet, you know very
well" the wife hurried to say.
" And yesterday | was disappointed
about selling that woOd-lot-" the sigh
now was a most dismal eroan.
You must learn to bear disappoint-
ment with a SMILE" laughed the little
woman. 1t is all for the best. This
man would be "a bad tenant, and the
man who talked of buying the wood-lot
is poor pay and would have made you
no end of trouble. Cheer up, now!
The darkest hour comes just before
the dawn"
"Sarah Jane Uxbridge Burton, ]
won't hear any more of your absurd
speeches." and the squire Topped ovel
upon the lounge, turning his back upon
his wife's cheerful face and the per
vading brightness of the rooms, hoping
to give himself undisturbed to gloomy
reflections, when there was another RAP
at the door. The squire, as he stood
upon his feet, groaned like the last
blast of northeast storm, and ad
mitted cheerful-faced man, who said
vivaciously:
Yes, yes; pretty rough outside, bu
/ always like to have winter blow itse
fairly out in March, and then our Apri