Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1890-09-19
NO. 80.
UNCLE BEN
a Character sketch thnt Fits the Time
n

of Ycnr.
written for the Burlington Free Press by Rev.
J. Hough Of Montpelier.
Uncle Ben met him early in my pastoral pur.
typical vermonter, standing straight and six feet
out Of boots.
[ was thirty, he was eighty, but this single sign
OF times wasting work the whitcness Of his flow.
ing locks and beard
At the close Of my first sermon, with friendly
hand and smile
BY the altar rails he met me- led me down the
middle aisle.
Introduced me to the people, praised the people
gone before,
Told me how and where to find him as we parted
at the door
"Go up by the village school house, take the first
road TO your right,
Keep on tlll you pass three houses, two are brown
and one IL white;
When you reach the signboard standing just be.
yOnd the water box,
Turn sharp to your left hand leaving on your right
a ledge Of rocks.
Go straight down The hill and follow, stn your
left, shady lane,
Leave clearing on your right hand-there,
guess I've made II plain
Keep on through a sugar orchard, not the best Of
roads and then
Right before. you stands farm house, l live
there; I'm Uncle Ben
Going ont met my brother, half way through
the shady lane
Leading at his side Morgan with his hand thrust
In her name
Handsome horse, she's been, yentured after
hs
And his clear blue eye responded in a moment
with spark
OF electric FIRE, and smiling he said "Parson, walk
with ,ne
To the pasture just beyond u.s. then go home nd
stop to tea"
| assented. Then he gosspped; This old crea-
ture's name is Fan;
Morgan horses come the nearest in intelligence to
/ must tell you something. parson. since you kind
OF like the mare,
What occurred one fall as was driving out to
ST. "a fufW
Fan was trottng gently onward, was taking in
the scene.
Nature never looked so lovely, never seemed so
Round the hills purple splendor like an ocean,
seemed to float
And the maple groves stood wearing Joseph's
many CUlOred coat.
Presently team DER took US, and l heard the
driver cry
In rude, sarcastic, manner, Now old man, let
us 90 byN
Looking back saw two dudsh, pert young fel-
lows with black,
| housekeeping, stylish, snowy creature They
could hardly hold him back
was just about to give them all they wanted Of
When Old fossil, said the other we can't take
your dust today
| May be not ! said. He answered, We don't
ride behind the heels
OF your old Green Mountain creepers; turn out,
or of come your wheels
| looked back at those two dandies. and said
| meekly, Is that sOt
Turned to Fan. took up the ribbons, uttered
short message, Co
As the tiger bounds elated in the forest on the
prey,
As the floods rush through the meadows when the
mill dam breaks away,
So this Morgan, bless her, Strengthened at one
bound and struck a pace
That had lots of business in it and we settled
down to race.
Road was full of teams and people, but they heard
| the noise and drew
| Up against the wayside fences making room to
| let us through
How they cheered shot past them, women
] az uHl "a non
I could hear their voices shouting, Let her out,
! Go Uncle BEN
| And went Fan understood it; took the bit
right in her teeth,
While the trees and fences round us, and the firm
| ground underneath
| Flew behind us. Dogs were barking; geese ran
cackling, fowls flew
High above the barnyard fences, dust in clouds
That was travelling, parson, travelling; every
| buckle grth and strap
Seemed alive. Fans neck extended and her tail
| laid in my lap
Over hills tops, down through hollows crossing
bridges with bound
| And the wheels went so like tightening that they
| hardly touched the ground.
| Well, I'm most ashamed 10 tell it, but Fan went
at such a rate
| That thought it best TO head her for the course
| straight through the gate,
And so calm her down and cool her get her so
| bered, well in hand.
But the horses were just starting as reached the
| judges stand,
And the folks that tend the races had the biggest
For the instant that the starter shouted out the
| signal Co
| Fan in it; couldnt stop her; and the Jockeys
in their gigs
With their whips adorned with ribbons, in their
| reg lar racing rigs,
| Whipped and shouted, but, no matter, was lead
| ing with mare
That had never struck hoof upon a race course
at a fair.
Don't believe in races, parson; never did, but
this
OF the purest of surprises, and the people had the
| fun.
There was, od-fashioned buggy, old straw hat,
Leading round the whole procession at clean
| two-twenty clip.
| How the people cheered and shouted Go in hay
| seed 'You'l win,
And went in; couldn't help it, Fan was going
| then like sin,
! With that old Green Mountain Morgan little cy-
clone sort Of pace,
Its superlative abandon and its fascinating grace
But the jockeys entered protest for they saw that
l was not reg Ter entry and could run no other
| heat.
| l was glad Of the conclusion, and proceeded to ex
! plain,
But the crowd broke into cheering and the band
| struck up a strain.
| So we left the course with honor, Fan and l. but
| parson, just
| Beyond the gate those dandes with horse all
| foam and dust
Limped beside us, so l raised my hat and asked,
| IN my cool way,
How is business, boys, progressing taking wheels
| off this fine day.
But they didn't seem to hear me; their attention
had been led
To some interesting object; they were looking
straight ahead.
When they pass Green Mountain MOrgans with
our sort of hills to climb
They must get up pretty early and be busy all the
time.
Here's the pasture, parson; kindly drop the bars
| down, two or three;
| Thanks Go, Fan, just see her, parson. Come
go home and stay to tea"