Idaho semi-weekly world. [volume] (Idaho City, Idaho Territory) 1875-1908, 1890-07-01
TWO FORCED HOLIDAYS.

white slave furever. I'm old enough
Iguess, to hev somethin' ter say 'bou
what | shall do. Yes, I'm commit
raising his voice to shout. tibet,
the way It's. Eff | amt a-workin' an
strainin an workin' every minute, an
amt jes' where they want me, there's
a-callin' an fussin' bout my lazines,
as eff | never worked at ALL II ies' AIM
right"
With slow, awkward steps. the
speaker, an over grown lad of is years
moved from the bank of the brook
where he had been resting, to a large
clearing in the forest, where his ak
and coat were thrown down by the
side of cord of wood.
The soliloquy was merely the nat
nral expression of the thoughts that
had been coursing through the BOYS
mind, as he lay dreaming on the
grassy sods before the sound of his
fathers voice had disturbed him.
The sudden interruption of his day
dream irritated him, and the probable
thought that he would be reproved for
his actions made his lot seem harder
than it was.
"Aint you got them logs piled UP
yetF was what he heard, as he sham
bled across the open clearing to where
his father stood Here came UP from
t'other clearin', 'specting you be ready
to help me with this ere team, an you
amt half through yet. It's too pro-
yokln' fur anything, Jim, the way
that you put me outp'
Mr.. Poulder looked very much an
noyed, and he removed his hat for an
instant, and mopped the perspiration
from his brow with a quick, ierky
movement. Then he jammed it on
his head again, and looked toward
the half finished work of his son. Jim.
meanwhile, calmly leaned against the
trunk OF a large tree, debating within
MS mind whether or not it was not
the proper time to inform his father
Just what he had been thinking of.
There was an element of romance in
this lonely farmers boy, and as he
looked at his father, he hattered him
self that he was a hero. He had al
ready confessed to himself that he was
awhile slave-a phrase he had culled
memorized from a dime novel that
had been lent to him by one of his boy
Hh playmates.
1T was true that. like all farmer
boys, he had been brought up to work,
and although his father was some
tunes little strict with him, compell-
ing him to do his allotted task when he
mad attempted to shirk it, Jim Poulder's
lot was not harder than that of hun
areds of other boys in the country.
There seems to be time in all boys |
lives when they become dissatisfied |
with their surroundings, and long for
some sensation, or change in the daily
routine Of duty. This time had ar
rived for Jim Poulder, and, as an ex-
cuse for his indefinite longing for some
thing, he complained that too much
work had always been given him
ance he was able to handle hoe or ak.
Jim was not a disobedient son, but
loved his father and mother, and con-
adered it punishable crime to cross
either of them by word or deed. Yet
Nmetimes he felt lonely and restless
On the mountain side, and he often
bought that his work would not be
half so hard if he had companion.
About his only recreation was found
IN the woods, cunning, or idly fishing
N the small brook that flowed across
MS fathers farm.
He had left his work for few min
1tes to indulge in this pleasure, when
his father came upon the scene, and it
vas partly guilty conscience reprov-
ing him that made the boy SO irritable
and cross, and put him into such de-
liant position toward every one.
Father, Tn tired of work. he /
finally broke out, after his father had
been staring at the felled trees for
some time.
Mr., Poulder turned his head quickly |
Nward his son and surveyed him
Tonderingly for few seconds with
out speaking. Jim's eyes dropped be-
lore those of his fathers, and slight
Olush stole into his tanned cheeks
Tired of work, you say, Jlmf II
The question was Slow y asked, as If
he speaker was rejecting, or had not
yet quite understood the full import OF
he lads remark.
Yes, father" continued the boy,
gaming courage by the silence that
followed. Il amt never grumbled
aSre, an I've allus done jes' what ye
eld me to, but it want because l
Ian I feels eff | had more'n oughter
70 There amt many fellers tibet has
20 the work tibet l hev, an there
ant many tibet would do it without
IaRin q kick. Eff | Amt right on
nna les' when We want me there's a
great stewin' an fussin', jes' as eff I'd
submitted some crime. I've ies been
S@eln where q Young Teller left home
m good fur jes' such treatment, an
Suw he made his way up into the
SUtd IN another state. He COM
PANIED bout his hard lot, but his
amer wouldn't listen to him. Then
% ran away"
You haven't thought of dom tibet,
5 i, YOU jim" interrupted Mr.. Poui-
vt tS at this juncture.
Ior iIes-n-no, | can't say tibet hev,"
6i n, ~, replied the lad, wincing before
a 1VSthers straightforward glance.
b,Mo u think your lot hard, then, my
ESh. continued his father, with
1IT nun look in his eyes.
L. b "sip yes, father, hev thought
rbs lou hev too much work, you say1
aIl;n Your troubleln Then, as if
Gnang to himself, Mr.. Poulder con-
>SSsi Probably Eye been little