Democratic messenger., 1889-04-06
TWO FORCED HOLIDAYS.

iuHpcT. AHcy JcS Workul luc 10
death, an there aint no usc or bcin' u
white slave furcver. I'm old enough,
lguess, to hcv somcthin' ter say bout
what / shall do. Yes, I'm comin'!"
raising his voice To a shout. ''Thct's
the way it's Ef aint a-workin' an
strainin' an workin' every minute, an
aint jos where they want me, there's
a-callin' an fussin' bout my lazincss
as cf never worked at all. II jcs' aint
right
With slow, awkward steps, the
speaker. an over grown lad Of Is years,
moved from the bank Of the brook,
where lac had been resting, To q large
clearing in the forest, where his ax
and coat were thrown down by the
side of cord of wood.
The soliloquy was merely the nat
nral expression Of the thoughts that
had been coursing through the boys
mind, as lie lay dreaming ON the
grassy sods before the sound of his
fathers voice had disturbed him.
The sudden interruption Of his day
dream irri,a,cd him, and the probable
thought that he would be rcprovcd for
his actions made his lot seem harder
than il was.
"Aint you got them logs piled up
yctl' was what he heard. as he sham.
bled across the open clearing To where
his father stood. Here came up from
tother clcarin', 'spccting you be ready
IA help me with this ere team, an you
aint half through yet. It's too pro
vokin' fur anything, Jim, the way
that you put me OUT
Mr.. Poultlcr looked very much an
noycd. and he removed his hat for an
instant. and moppcd the pcrspirltion
from his brow with u quick, jcrky
movement Then he iammcd il on
his head again. and looked toward
the half finished work Of his son. Jim.
meanwhile. calmly leaned against the
trunk Of u large tree. debating within
his mind whether or not il was not
the proper time Ia inform his father
just what he had been thinking of.
There was AN element Of romance in
this lonely farmers boy, and as he
looked at his father. he ilattcrcj him
self that he was u hero. lie had al.
ready confessed To himself that he was
awhitc slavc-a phrase he had cullcd
memorizcd from dime novel that
had been lent 10 him by one Of his boy.
ish playmatcs.
1T was true that. like all farmer
boys, he had been brought up TO work,
and although his father was some
times little strict with him. compcll-
ing him To do his allotted task when he
had attempted 10 shirk il. Jim Poulder's
lnf l,o.ln,, sl.,. el,us e
drcds Of other boys in the country.
There seems to bc time in all boys
lives when they become dissatisfied
with their surroundings, and long for
some sensation, or change in the daily
routine Of duty. This time had ar
rived Tor Jim Pouldcr. and, as an en-
cuse Tor his indefinite longing for some
thing, he complained that too much
work had always been given him
since he was able to handle a hoe or ax.
Jim was not disobcdicnt son, but
loved his father and mother, and con-
sidered il u punishable crime To cross
either Of them by word or decd. Yet
sometimes hc felt lonely and restless
on tho mountain side, and he often
thought that his work would not bc
half 50 hard if lie had companion.
About his only recreation was found
in the woods, cunning, or idly fishing
i'll the small brook that flowed across
his fathers farm.
Ho had left his work for a few min
utes to indulge in this pleasure, when
his father came upon the scene. and it
was partly guilty conscience rcprov-
ing him that made the boy SO irritable
and cross. and put him into such dc.
1iant position toward every one.
Father, Tn tired Of work." hc
finally broke out, after his father had
been staring ut the fcllcd trees for
some time.
Mr.. Poulder turned his head quickly
toward his son and surveyed him
wonderingly for few seconds with
out speaking. Jim's eyes dropped be.
fore those of his fathers. and slight
blush stole into his tanned checks.
Tired of work, you say, Jimi"
Tho question was slowly asked, as il
the speaker was rejecting. or had not
yet quite understood the full import Of
the lads remark.
"Ycs, father" continued tho boy,
gaining courage by the silence that
followed. Il amt never grumblcl
aforc. an I've allus done jcS' what yc
told me 10, but it want because |
didn't feels ef had morcn oughtcr
do. There amt many fellcrs ihct las
TO do the work thct ] hcv. an there
aint many ilct would do it without
maxim n kick. Ef ! aint right on
hand jcs' when SO want me there's u
great stewin an fussin', jcs' as cf I'd
committed some crime. I've ics been
readin' where young fellcr left home
fur good fur jcs' such treatment, an
how he made his way up into the
world in another state. lie com
planned bout his hard lot, but lis
iathcr wouldn't listen To him. Then
he ran away"
"You haven't thought of doin' thct,
asv you, Jimf" interrupted Mr. Poul-
der at this juncturc.
"Yes-n-no. cant say thct hcv,"
slowly replied the lad. wincing before
his fathers straightforward glance.
You think your lot hard, then. my
boyt' continued his father with IA
kindlier look in his eyes.
We'll, yes, father, | hev thought
so, but
''You hcv too much work. you sayl
Thet's your troubler Then, as il
talking 10 himself, Mr. Pouldcr con-
tinued: Probably I've been a little
hard on you. jim. There has been
lots Of work 10 bc done ON the farm,
an I've only thought of gettin' il
through with. didn't think Of you.
/ hey not been very good father 10
you in thet respect, probably, an I'm
glad thet you've opened my eyes.
Poor fellow lie Inns worked hard an
faithfully. an now he'll hev his re-
ward"
Jim moved uneasily against the tree,
and wished that his father had been
little more angry with him, and
wouldn't talk NJ kindly about him.
Somehow tho turn Of affairs did not
quite suit him, and lac wished that
i had been different. Ho felt that his