The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1888-04-25
A Dernier Resort.


the prettiest street of little country
town one afternoon in early June. 1t
was quiet, tree-shaded, grass-grown
street, and the man, as he walked along
with jaunty, swinging step, seemed
wonderfully in contrast to il. He was
a well-preserved man, who must have
been very good-looking, if not pos
itively handsome, in his youth. He was
dressed in gray suit of fashionable cut
and wore his silk hat slightly tipped on
one side of his abundant, brown, curly
hair. This brown, curly hair was very
lightly touched with gray here and
theresa lightly, indeed, as to not be
perceptble to the careless observer.
In his right hand, which was firmly held
against the small of his back, he grasped
a heavy, gold-headed cane. He glanced
from side to side as he walked at the
windows of the cottages with the air of
one who had been used to and still eX-
poets to catch the admiring glances of
peeping women. And in this eXpecta-
ton he was not wholly disappointed,
for from at least half dozen doors and
as many windows he caught their
glances, though they were really more
of wonder than admiration; albeit, ne
chose only to admit the latter.
{" BY Jove" said he to himself, in a
drawing tone, as, the last cottage passed.
he emerged in the highway again and
came in sight of picturesque old black
smiths shop, before which stood an
immense weeping willow, " how little
the place has changed. What a sleepy
old town it is. | don't believe there
have been twenty buildings added to it
since left here, nearly quarter of a
century ago. And there's the smithy
just the same as when I worked there
in grimy apron-paughn And then
he stepped across to the shop where a
man of about his own age-a stout,
round-faced, merry-looking fellow-was
welding hammer with mighty force,
striking brave sparks from the horse
shoe he was fashioning and singing
loudly the while to the musical clink,
clink, clink that answered his blows.
Halo. Jim Farlow," said the new
conner in louder and quicker tone
than that in which he had spoken to
himself; but it was not until jim Far
low was touched upon the shoulder by
the gray-kidded hand that the loud
singing and musical clink ceased, and
the blacksmith turned slowly about and
gravely regarded his visitor with no
hint of recognition in his honest blue
eyes.
Why, jim, don't you know me %
asked he of the gray suit. "Surely
you haven't forgotten Jack Palmer 20
Jack Palmer ?' repeated the black
smith. Be you Jack Palmer? If
you be you don't look much like the
Jack Palmer that used to work aside of
me at this very forge"
"But l am, all the same," said
Palmer, " though l fancy city life has
removed all traces of the country youth ;
that is, all traces of his rusticity.
flatter myself some of his good looks
still remain. Hey, Jim?'
To this speech, made with self
satisfied smile, Jim replied by another
question: 81 s'pose you invested that
money SOS you made heap out of it ?"
"Well, | did-at first" answered
Palmer, " but the heap soon dwindled
away. 1t was only thirty thousand in
the first place, you know"
"Only thirty thousand" replied
jim, with a grim chuckle. "W'y wen
you fust heard of it thought you'd 90
clean daft, | swan l did. Thirty
thousandn says you to me, tearin'
off your apron; thirty thousand fur
me that never got thirty dollars to-
gether since the day were born, an
that's six-an'-twenty years ago. Thirty
thousand, says you"
" Yes, yes" interrupted his COM
panion, hastily; suppose it did look
like large sum to me then, but when
one lives in great city and associates
with wealthy people it soon begins to
look like very small one; and, by
Jovel it and all | made by it got less
and less as the years went on, until |
am actually down on my last hundred
"Down to your last hundred"
echoed jim Farlow. "Well, you must
have lived high. And now, if / may
make so free as to ask. what have you
come back here for? You surely amt
alookin' and looking at the kid gloves
he broke into a loud guffaw-" you
surely amt lookin' for a job at the
old smithy again?"
Pshaw! Nonsense" replied the
other, half angrily. Then he resumed
in his former drawing tone, "Old Cor.
belts dead, hear, and left Ruth al
his property. Must be worth a tidy
little sum-"
Sc 1t is worth tidy little sum anC
she's tidy little woman" asserted the
blacksmith with emphasis.
Palmer than ever, though, sup,
pose? Naturally such homely girl:
make still homlier old maids"
81 never thought her homely, nor
neither did anyone else but you, / guess
Palmer, and you didn't think so till you
got amongst them city gals. You
treated Ruth ALFRED mean, you did, y
and Jim Farlow turned to his anvil
again.
son, look here, jim; don't 90 tC
work for minute or two more. Does
she live at the farm? | know | didn't
treat her exactly right, but when one
finds ones self surrounded by hand
some, fashionable girls one can't helr
forgetting the rustic maidens one leaves
behind. But have good reason to thinl
can make it all right. Better late
than never, you know. She has re,
NAMED single for my sake, | am sure