The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1889-07-17

help 1t? She can hardly use her hands at
al, ana some days she can hardly leave her
chslr, SO had to learn to make the beds and
70 SCRUB the floor and wash the dishes, and
can 90 almost as well as girl"
is 1t possible? shall have to take supper
with you on my way back to the city and
test your skill"
Johnny bushed and added:
TT 1T Is ply. my boy, that you haven't
81 had one," he said, gently, ''but she
| died and if she had lived shouldn't have
wished her to lift and bring wood and water
| and scrub, as poor mother always did.
| Sometimes wish could have sprung all
| slow work growing up; and 1t was while
mother was waiting for us to grow up that
she worked so hard"
"But my dear boy, you cannot expect to
be son ana daughter and mother all in one.
You, cannot do the work for a whole
family"
Yes l can 1t isn't much, and Pm going
70 90 IL and the work my father left undone.
I'm going to pay that mortgage, if live."
heaven grant you may" said fervently
have such son."
Mother don't know mean to do it, and
she Is very anxious l should go to school,
and mean to sometime, butt know just
where the boys in my class are studying, and
i ! get the lesson at home. Mother reads
l.
washing the dishes or doing her work, and
we have great fun. try to remember and
repeat it, and If we come to anything we
can't make out, we take it over to the
teacher IN the evening, she is very kind-she
Very kind! Who wouldn't be kind to
such a boy? How do you expect to save If
you spend your time indoors?''
"Oh, don't do girls work all CAV; no
indeed l have worked out our taxes on the
road; 1t wasn't much, but helped the men
build stone wall down by the river; and
Deacon Balls lets me do great deal of work
Tor him, and when l get chance to take
anybody from the hotel to ride, he lets me
nave his team for almost nothing, and |
would pay to him whatever ] make. And l
work on the farm with the men in summer;
and have cow of my own and sell the
milk at the tavern: and we have some hens,
too, and sell the eggs. And In the fall / cut
and pile the winters wood in the sheds for
the people who haven't any boys-and there's
good many people around here who have
not any boys" he added, brushing fly from
the old horse with the tip of the whip.
After this we fell into silence and rode
through the sweet New England roads, with
Monadnock rising before us, even near us
sense of its rugged strength-one of the
hills, ''rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun !"
but glanced from the moutain to the little
red,headed morsel of humanity at my side,
with sort OF recognition of their kinship.
Somehow they seemed to belong together. l
felt as If the same sturdy stuff was In both of
them. 1t was only fancy, but it was con-
hrmed the next day, for when came back to
town after seeing my invalid friend / called
on Deacon Ball. found him white-haired
and kindly faced. Hekept the village store
and owned pretty house, and was evidently
very well to do. Naturally we talked Of
johnny, and the deacon said to me with tears
in his old watery blue eyes.
.Why, bless your heart, sir, you don't
think Pm going to take his money. do you?
The only son of his mother, and she a widow
and tied up into double bow knots with
rheumatics, besides. True enough let his
father have the money and my wife she says,
says she to me-, We'll. deacon my dear,
off hundred years from now If the widow
never pays a cent? but 'cording to my cal
culations it's better to lei the boy think he's
payin'. She says might as well try to keep
a barrel Of vinegar from workin' as to, keep
that boy from workin'. It's the mother in
him and its got to work. We think a good
deal of the widow, Mandy and me- did
before ever saw Mandy; but for all that we
hold the mortgage, and Johnny wants to
work it out. Mandy and me. we are going to
let him work."
turned away. for was going to sup at
Johnny's house; but before went / asked
the deacon how much Johnny had already
paid.
swell, l don't know; Mandy knows-I
pass it to her, she keeps the books. Drop
in before you go to the train and I'll show
it to you.
dropped in and the deacon showed me
the account. 1t was the book of the savings
bank Of neghboring town, and on its pages
were credits of all the little sums the boy
had earned or paid; and saw they were
standing in the Widow Beebe's name. l
grasped the deacon's hand. He was looking
away over the housetops to where Monad
mock was smiling under the good night kiss
of the sun.
Goodbye, sir, goodbye" he said, return
ing my squeeze with interest. much
obliged am sure, Mandy and me, too but
don't be worried about Johnny. When we
a real man-and Johnny has got it; Johnny
Is like that mountain over there-chock full
of grit and lots of backbone"