The Globe-republican., 1889-12-25

| q feeun tn2C l. maven oOn0 ~ 1917
and been grateful for AL my blessin's.
Eunice, I'm goin' to do it, anyhow.
swell, all that I've got to say Is that
| do hope the grist will never get there. =
'.Now, boy, you may go to singin :
SCHOOL,
Harry slipped away with the parallel
ogram of an American Vocalist" under
his arm The singing school made great
progress on the lode on Science" that
night. and Harry had descended into
those deep and cavernous regions OF
solemn bass foundations with the ambi-
ton of basso prcfundo.
| The moon was hanging over the dark
shoulders of Greylock, and the lights
glimmering on Stafford Hill, as he re-
turned. 1t was a crisp night. with a
CLEAN of frost crystals everywhere In
| the bare harvest fields, the blue gentian
pastures and alluvial cranberry mead
ows. He continued to sing-he could
not help it; the piece. haunted him.
Nothing at all so wonderful as the &C
complishment of that piece by the sing
ing-school had ever before come into his
experience. The words, too, were mag
ical to him-like new world. So, in
the new creations of the poet and COM
poser, he logged along, singing, until he
came to the graveyard where Captain
Joab Stafford and the heroes of Ben
nington lie buried, and then he contin-
ued to aehist6 the same tune. A boy at
that time did not know what might hap
pen when he was passing graveyard!
The next morning Harry received
the same peremptory summons to atten-
tion-'Boy!'' Now, this was not intend
ed in this strange case to be reproachful
toward Harry, but to let prudential Eu-
nice understand that in this case of cas-
uistry his mind was made up.
boy, bring that old roam horse, and
will put on his back the two bushels OF
corn"
Eunice heard the order, and she knew
that the laconic word was meant for her
ears. She said nothing but went on
grinding coffee, pounding locker,
mixing Johnnycake, straining milk.
boiling potatoes, breaking eggs, ''settin''
the table. ''shooing" the hens from the
doorstep, feeding the dog, and ''scat-
ting" the cat, and all those varied and
multiple of duties that fall to the ex.
perience of thrifty farmers wife fol
the sake of being supported.
The sun rose red over the valley
and intervales. The blue jays seemed
to blow about screaming, and the crows
cawed in the walnut trees. The con.
quiddles had ceased to sing, but there
was clipper of squirrels everywhere.
One could hear the old mill-wheel turn
ing in the distance two miles away. The
trees on Park Lane, the scene of the
Mason farms, were blazing like an army
with crimson oriflammes. and fat .tur-
keys were gobbling around every farm.
house for miles. This was the farm re-
gion of the famous Cheshire cheese, one
of which, weighing more than 1000 fbS.,
had been presented to President Jeffer.
son, Elder Leland acting as envoy for
the merry farmers, and preaching all the
way to Washington and back while exc
cutting the famous commission.
After breakfast, Harry brought the
Sorrel horse to the door, and Eben.
whose benevolent heart had prompted
him to duty in spite of itself, put on
his back the two bushels of corn, so as
to form kind of saddle, one bushel
one side, and the other on the other.
Take the corn to the MILL said
Eben: ''have it ground, then take the
meal to Peter Rugg, and be sure to tell
him that Isent it,
Harry was no idiot boy like that in
Wordsworth's tale of Bette Foy, but
this morning his wits went wool-gather-
ing. The Ode on Science and his mu-
sical triumphs of the night before had
quite turned his head, and he started
of singing:
The morning sun shines from the east,
And spreads its glories to the west"
This was literally true. The morning
was bright and the air exhilarating, and
the mountains in all the over-floods of
glory most inspiring. After singing the
Ode on Science, Harry essayed ''Majes-
ty," and he made the woods ring with:
ION cherub and on cherubim
Full royalty he rode,
And on the wings of mighty winds
Came flying all abroad"
He made even the chipmunks run,
and the grave jays stop to listen.
He was a happy boy. very happy
boy. 1t was long way from the red
house and barn of Eben Browns farm to
the great wooden mill-wheel on the
Housatonic, but Harry did not urge the
roam horse, who had no disposition to be
urged. Why should one travel fast
when every thing is bright and beauti-
full?
Eben had tied the bag tightly the
night before, after he had reduced the
four bushels of corn to two. He picked
up every kernel of corn that he had
chanced to scatter over the floor, and put
it into the bag.
Now, in the house there were mice
sly mice. And when all the family were
in the other world of dreams on the
night before. one or two of these mice
had explored the kitchen, and, finding
not so much as single kernel Of corn,
after all the vigorou sshelling. had each
gnawed little hole. one in either end
of the bag, and had made dainty meal,
and slipped away. leaving the two little
holes. The motion of the sorrel horse,