The Appeal. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. ;) 1889-19??, 1889-03-23

AeelluS certain oXnlGatlOn OF success IN
the encounter, he turned away from tho
clearing, and went back to the brook From
his position on the grassy bank he could not
see his father, out he could hear the steady
blows OF the axe on the trees.
The fish were as plentiful as usual Shat
afternoon, and several good bites were made
on the bait, but the young fisherman did not
enjoy his sport half so we'll as on ether
occasions. He trolled his line about list
lessly, and paid more attention to the dis
tant Wood-chopper's heavy, ringing blows
than to the swapping of the speckled trout.
Every unusual sound seemed to startle him
from his reverie, and he glanced hastily
around toward the clearing.
Ehe afternoon slowly Waned, and Jim
Poulder's memorable half-holiday ran itself
out. For three hours he remained seated
on the bank Of the small brook, watching
the bright leaves on the trees and the
trouts in the brook, and listening attentively
to the sounds that came from his fathers
| axe. About shutdown he walked slowly
homeward, and stopped at the barn to feed
the animals. But some one had already
performed his nightly duty and the animals
| were taken care Of for the night. Then he
went to do few little chores around the
house, and found that these too had been
| done by his father.
"Well, he means to give to give me half
holiday in earnest" Jim muttered, as he
stood just outside the door before entering
for his supper. II wonder what he'll say
bout it to the supper table. S'pose I'll
hev to make up fur it ter-1norrow"
He gave the stick with which his favorite
dog was playing violent jerk, and ordered
the canine to charge, in no gentle tones.
Then, as if ashamed at his show of anger, he
patted the animal on the head, and told him
to follow him into the house.
Ii the overworked hoy expected TO hear
some reference to the days work, or to his
half-holiday, he was disappointed. His
| father and mother both talked Of other
things that were quite foreign to the SUBJ
| ject which was uppermost in Jim's mind.
All that evening they tried to make things
bright and comfortable for him; but he felt
moody and ashamed, and at au searly hour
he hurried off to bed.
| The following morning was "a bright and
clear one, and the sun was shining brightly
into the lads sleeping room before he opened
his eyes. Then he started up witi,a jump,
and made an exclamation of surprise as he
| looked out of the doors. It was fully nine
o'clock, and his rising hour had always been
six, while breakfast was invariably served
at half-past six.
| tenacious sakes! what's the matter any,
how" he muttered aloud, as he hurriedly
dressed himself. II didn't hear. any one
call me-"
Then, as remem ORANGES of past mornings
when he had slept On, after being called,
rushed through his. mind, he tried to think
whether he had repeated such an offense.
But no. he could not remember having heard
his mother or father call him that morning.
He walked down into the breakfast room g
little sheepishlv, expecting to be reproved
severely for his laziness. But no one was
in the room; his mother was busily engaged
In her work outside, and his breakfast was
standing on the table waiting fer him. He
sat down Immediately, and hastily drank
his coffee and munched few rolls. Then
picking up his cap he started for the barn
to begin his work.
Good morning, Jim. Your Gather has
taken the horses to the mill torday,'' his
mother said, as she caught sight Of him.
''YOu can't go to the clearin' to-dsY; there's
no hurry Bout tibet work.
This was another surprise for the boy. and
he stood for several minutes undecided what
to do. 1t was so strange to have the hosAes
fed and harnessed up to the farm-Wagon
and taken away to work before he was up,
and yet stranger still was it to be told that
the work in the clearing could wait,until a
later period.
He did not know quite how to act, but,
after short hesitation, he turned to the
wood-pile near him, and picked up an axe
with the intention of chopping some wood
for the house stove. He had not split two
sticks before he heard his mother calling
again.
"We've hired Sandy to come an .cutup
the wood, JIM" she said ''Your father
thought he could do it better than YOU, am!
then you would hev less ter do. Never mind:
,cuttin' it now''
Jim slowly dropped the axe. Then facing
his mother, he said: swell, mother, then let
me help you: Don't you want some work
done fur you?"
so, no,aI've veH little to do today, I
don't need any help" was the reply. 49,
So.Jim Poulder was forced into idleness
thatday Every thing that he attempted to
do, he found that somebody else had engaged
TO DO before him. Finally, ne walked away
from the farm towards the brook, bewil-
dered.ard surprised. He tried to interest
himself lin fishing again, but after short
trial be flung down his line with disgust.
From the brook he walked on to the clear
ing in the woods, but his axe was not in it's
place, and every thing was silent and still.
After watching a squirrel at play for time
he then turned mis- footsteps towards home
again, hoping that his father had returned
from the mill
He was disappointed in this hope, and he
ate his dinner with his mother, saying but
little, but thinking much. The AFTERNOON
was more dreary Than the morning. He
was left alone todo as he pleased, and after
exhausting his few pleasures in the woods
he became dlseonsolate and lonesome
Idleness was something unsuited to one of !
his restless'nature, although it was what he
had been longing for for weeks past Now
that he had it to his hearts content. he |
wished forssome work that would kill the |
time, and Danish certain thoughts that |
would worry him constantly, no matter
where he was
'sBut this is lonesome, he exclaimed.
rather emphatically, late in the afternoon. |
raising himself from the soft, grassy couch |
on which he had been resting. 81 do wish +
hadp's said any thing to father shout work.
don't know what ter do with myself, an,
feel toe mean fur any thing when Pm
with him. What can teller do among
these mountains without he has work. ] !