Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1889-08-23
Id UNCE'S CORNER.

| fOurshed her butter ladle. She was think
ing, practically enough, of the continued
low price Of butter.
"And we come to the turns so suddenly,
sometimes, when we don't expect them, "
responded quiet little Miss Barbara letting
her sewing fall idly upon her lap for mo
ment, while her thoughts. not all of mar
kets or prices, wandered back over the Gu
riously winding life-ane that had brought
her 10 this day
The room had third occupant, half
grown boy, standing by an open window
He was thinking of nothing under the
canopy" his mother would have said Of
nothing above it, surely. One boot, tolera-
bly, large sized, heavy and guiltess of pol
ish, was pushed out the window presently
its mate followed, and Launce sat on the
window seat. Looking at him so framed
one saw that the trouble extended higher
than the boots-the lack of polish was gen
eral. An ordinary boy in an ordinary win.
dow, that was all the picture-a cheap
print and a rustic frame. He drummed
carelessly on the sash above his head
whistled little, and then, forgetting pru
dence, began TO knock his depending. rest
less heels against the side of the house.
That sound caught his mothers ear, and
she turned round sharply.
"Launce Rodney !"
Launce dropped suddenly from his perch
to the ground outside
II never did see the beat of you You'd
ought to be ashamed of yourself Stuck
up there ag'in, scratchin' the paint all off
the house, and knockin' your boots TO pieces,
to say nothin Of
That was all the boy heard as he walked
away. He had no need to tarry as a means
of gaining information, for he had heard it
all on previous occasions and knew exact
| ly what was coming next, and stopping to
listen as matter Of respect did not occur
to him. He was Just at that age when the
| bump of veneration, or reverence. or what
| ever its proper name may be, seems 10 sdf-
fer a temporary but woeful depression. So
he walked on out Of the yard into the gar
| den picked his way over the squash vines
and through the tall rows of corn that
rustled. nodded and whispered as he pass
ed, until he reached the orchard and an old
apple tree near the fence. Then he stretch
ed himself upon the soft grass, drew his
straw hat down to shade his eyes and lay
still.
1t was very quiet and pleasant there
| There was work enough to be done else
| where. but Launce was inclined to play
| hide-and seek with his duties-a one sided
| game, in which he was always the one to
hide. If they followed him up, found him.
and there was no escape he attended to
| them otherwise he let them alone, and con
graduated himself on having the best of
the game He was not indolent. The en-
ergy and ingenuity he expended in getting
around things that ought to have been
done would have carried him straight
through them and left respectable sur
| plus.
"'Tant Just the work he commented,
| surveying the toes of his boots through his
half shut eyes, but what is the use Milk
the cows tonight, and til have TO be done
over again to. morrow and next day and
it's Just so about chopin wood, and all
the rest of it. Father he pitches into it as
if he expected TO get through sometime,
but it's the same thing right over and over,
and what's the good of doin' thing now,
and undoin' it bme-by, and doin' it over
next time A Teller might as well be an
hour glass, with the sand runnin' first one
way and then t'other, and it don't make
any difference which
There was no one to dispute this PROPOSE
ton. a stray bird in the branches over
head seemed rather to agree with it, and
twittered out, $50 so That's so !"
Then there's school,, pursued Launce
rehectively. What's the good of stayin
shut up ali day with benches and black
boards, to learn ever so many pages of
things you don't care about, when therell
be lot more Just like 'em to learn to-mor-
row If John Thompson did buy six sheep
| at ten dollars apiece, and lost two drivin'
'em home, and sold the rest for twelve dol
| lars a head, what do | care And why
must be bothered to find out how much he
| lost That's his business. If they'd been
my sheep, I'd looked after 'em a little
| sharper. and wouldn't have lost anything
| S'pose a boy is noun-what's the use of
KNOWN about it, when he can't do any
thing or have any better times than if he
wasn't Z"
The bird left the tree and flew swiftly
away The boy watched it until it was out
of sight, wondering how it would seem to
be so free-to go, 90, as fast and far as it
should please him Wouldn't he be up and
away though No more of the old life for
him He would be off over the ocean.
having a gay, glorious time He couldfind
some work very different from this dreary
old round of doing and undoing. Digging
gold in Australia, where every glittering
grain would count as so much gained, would
he a vast improvement upon digging away
in this common soil for potatoes, that had
TO be dug, planted and dug again. Or
growing rich at the diamond mines of Bra
zil Living in that wild, strange, beauti-
full land, with nothing TO do but enjoy it,
while the natives worked for him, and ev-
cry days work had something to show in
bright costly gems Launce's knowledge
of these far-away glories was derived from
the wonderful pictures and brief descrip-
tions contained in his geography-the one
study he did like-and these were just
vague and unsatisfactory enough to leave a
| boys fancy a fine chance for supplement
ing them; so Launce lay still, thinking and
whistlng.
"Halo p broke in a sharp little voice
not in the least like one of his slaves an
nouncing treasure The boy turned his
head little, discontentedly, and saw a
small brown face pressed close to the fence,
and pair of dark eyes steadily surveying
him.
''What you doin there, Launce Rodney,'
''Nothin', said Launce impatently.
"Thinkin'."
"What makes you lay down for when
you think p persisted the newcomer.
"'Cause-no matter what, Hetty Nixon
you run along
81 don't want to run along That's what
everybody says-'run along and | don't
want to-" Hetty settled her little chin
more squarely upon the fence rail and held
her position.
Launce looked at her again from under
his hat at the small brown feet poking
reStleSsly IN Jne warm Sand at tine snort,
faded dress she wore, and the old, limp
gingham bonnet pushed back from her
head, and hanging by its forlorn strings.
A stray thought suggested her miserable
home over the hill and wretched, drunken
father.
"Hetty," he said, with a sudden con
sciousness that change might be almost as
desirable thing in her life as in his "Het-
ty, what would you do if you was a man =
"Work for folks, an do as I'd oughter
and be good to my little girls-that's what
| would, " answered Hetty, promptly.
Launce twitched his hat over his face
once more in vexation. "What did she
know about it anyway There was no use
in talking to her"
"An if was a big boy, I'd go an help
little girls pick berries, an show 'em where
the good places was" pursued Hetty, un-
der the impression that she might as well
make known her views upon various sub
jects while she was about il.
Launce made no reply.
"Folks oughter be good to folks, an not
go off an do Just what they want to-" Het-
ty added, medtatively, sitting the dry sand
through her toes, and dividing her moral
about equally between her absent father
and Launce.
Still the boy did not answer, and a 81
lence fell After few minutes he glanced
furtively toward the fence, hut the elfsh
little face was gone, and with feeling of