Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1890-01-23
UNCLE AARON:
Or
A WIFE REDEEMED.
A Pathetic Story of a Woman's
Folly and a Mans Heroism.
BY MRS. ISoBEL II. FLOYD.
copyright, 1891
CHAPTER III.

CtlAfIEh Ill.
Eight years later, one day at the end of
summer, Jacob, then a strong young fellow
of eighteen, announced his intention Of GO
ing to New York.
''What for can't We bide as Matthewlr
asked his mother, ENORMOUSLY. "New
York; What will yer do therel Why can t
yer let well enough alonel You're better
off now than yer father was when we mar
ried. Yer have hundred dollars in the
bank and schoolin'-why can't yer bidel"
The young fellow laughed awkwardly,
and said, looking at his father, although he
talked to his mother: "I-have an idea
could do better for myself in a big city. /
think could-I feel could"
"Feelp' calculated his mother, with con-
temptuous shrug.
"Let be, mother,n interrupted Uncle
Aaron, sternly; ''don't make game o. the
lad He's old enough to have his bent, and
lam going to give it to him."
That was all that was needed. The boy
wanted but his fathers sympathy and the
woman but firm hand to quell her rebel
lion.
''Well-if yer say it." she said.
"Yes, say it, said Uncle Aaron, rising
in his agitation and pacing the room; 81 say
it. The lads been good lad, and has a
Ilkub W udNO his w ldJ II nt uotS
come back in a couple of years, glad to go a
farmingl What harms been done, say1
What harml'
ooh, thank you, father" said Jacob,
huskily; "Tm obliged to you"
"Will yer be a~going soon" said Aunt
Kate, presently, accepting the inevitable
with feminine quickness; "'cause yer'n
need some more socks, I'm thinking"
Eyes, mother" said Uncle Aaron, smil-
ing, as one humors child; 'yes, hen need
the socks"
''rll go and see If the yarn be there said
Aunt Kate, suddenly all wide-awake and
energetic; ''if he goes soon they're not
made in day." and she jumped up from her
seat, climbed the ladder and disappeared in
the loft above.
Lets go outside" said Uncle Aaron.
They went out and stood side by side under
the big pine trees.
''Father," said Jacob at last, ''if you had
rather didn't, 1 won't 1t wouldn't be
worth while, you know, to worry you.n All
the sweet smile that came over his face.
"Dear lad, 1 would not keep We. Go
Ye're young and smart, and / know
yen do WE'LL know yell do we'll
Why, some of these days it'll be an
honor for me to say yer my lad-and, per-
and MOTHER
'fWhatm cried the boy, and such look
of indignant love glowed in his face that
his father added, hastily: "Im but joking, |
lad. know my boy" and reaching out his |
hand he clasped the others close.
"Father, / wish you could go with me-"
eyes, yes" said Uncle Aaron, dreamily |
al wish had been born twenty years later |
and different Sometimes, do yer know, |
lad, l see another sort of life from this |
feel as if-as Tiff I'd had but the schoolin' |
1t would have been different. Do yer I'M
derstandP' he said, modestly; 81 sound |
queer TO We, mebbefn
"No," said Jacob, earnestly; "you don't. |
Oh, fatherl fatherl What puzzle life is, |
anyhow and the young fellow buried his |
face in his hands, and with the selfishness |
of the young groaned aloud. The greater |
soul merely stifed its pain and said: |
'When viii We 60, think yel'
~ don't know; next week, guess" said |
Jacob, looking up. "Will that be too soonlp /
NO." answered Uncle Aaron, mot too
soon-not too soon"
'sSome way, father, can't bear TO think
of settling down here all my life 1t just
chokes me-"
Don't fret, lad, don't fret. understand
yer feelin's, and it makes no differ what
the others say--it makes no differ"
81 guess,n said Jacob, at last, after they
had stood silent some moments, 81 guess
I'll chop pile of wood before go, to keep
mother agoin'"
Gan right" nodded his father.
The boy went about his work, but the
man stood still looking out over the valley.
In dumb way be felt penned in, stifed,
himself. he had felt so often during his
later years, something as Of depressed force,
imprisoned power. He was like a grand
lion Gagged, restlessly pacing TO and fro
stronger than his keepers, and yet unable
TO break the bars by which they bound him
Those slight and unseen keepers of educa-
ton and worldly knowledgel With them
he could have done wonders In the world
he felt it. Without them he was but big
wistful-eyed brute, that eat its food and
eat and slept again.
But the boy-that was his one outlet
Gently he turned, and, smiling, strobe back
towards the house.
CHAPTER w.
4