News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1890-03-06

| whose owner nau the ndlne VI HldS-
ter-hand at doctoring. Twas the mar
tyr of the occasion, and a very respect
full martyr made, being almost per-
suaded, in fact, that had fallen vic
tim to duty. The role once assumed,
| played it with proper feeling, meet
ing Aunt Sukey's attacks with angelic
forbearance, leaning languidly back
on the couch, while mother cried over
my hands, and begging her not to feel
badly. Finally, good Mr.. Saunders
came in, listened to grandfather's YER
sion of the story, and rumbllng ac-
compartment of comments; and then
| was rubbed, bathed and bandaged,
and bundled off to my room.
The next day the house was all in
hustle of preparation. 1t was the day
before Christmas, and my uncle and
cousins were coming over from Haley,
and nv married sister from Cheshire.
People flew hither and thither, intent
on their several concerns, sweeping
and adjoining. putting the finishing
touches to cushions and mutfiers, and
cracking jokes when a neighbor
CHANGED in for ''hght' or swallow
of cider. The kitchen was the scene
of unparalleled baking and brewing,
as Judged from the whiffs of warm
air and tantalizing fragrance that
came up the back stairs; and as l lay
there tossing and turning, l found my
pillow a thorny one, and secretly
fumed at my folly. had not delib-
erately thrown myself down to spite
my mother and Sukey-that would
have been childish land it had all
passed so quickly tn t my promptings
were hard TO analyze; but l had
dreadful suspicion at heart that | was
just great humbug. Anyhow, had
overshot the mark, and surely | was
punished sufficiently without any hui
initiating confessions.
Not glimpse of Aunt Sukey did |
get that day, for we mutually cherished
resentment; but all my relatives came
solemnly in and protested that my moth
er and Sukey were very unwise, and
that l was much to be pitied. was
suffering SO that could not bear to be
moved, and the hours wore away
heavily. At light Esther bro ught me
my supper and told me that yule-log |
WIS W W al oiSSCI III anu buOIl tuClO
were games and dancing in the kitchen
below, and great peals of laughter
came up that brought tears to my eyes. |
But the wicked, suspicious, old Sukey |
should never exult over me; and | |
shut my lips tightly together when
mother came in and kissed me good |
night, Whispering tenderly: s'My poor |
boy! You can't blame me as much as
/ blame myself"
AT last the house grew dark and
quiet. Every one had gone to bed.
The ticking of the great clock was
plainly heard, and seemed to keep
time to the ttrobbing pain in my
ankle. Solitude and darkness are
wonderful accus ers. The longer / lay
the more guilty and wretched 1 felt,
and the more impossible it seemed to
make explanations. Still the clock
licked on; the sound of distant sleigh
bells was heard and died away on the
snow; rats and mice scuttled about,
and now and then a cock crowed
sleepily from the farmyard. At last
the stroke of midnight peaied solemnly
out, and for moment / wondered if
Santa Claus would visit our chimney.
Then l remembered that Christmas
was here indeed, and there was no
rest, no peace in my heart to welcome
it. The pain in my foot, too, was
growing unbearable.
l sat up in bed with a sort of dry
sob, when all at once the door was
opened and Aunt Sukey's
broad, black face peered in, tied up in
an orange kerchief a d lighted by the
dull rays of Pickering candle. The
first expression l surprised on her face
gas sarcastic and somewhat triumph
fnt; and forced myself to assume for
second an air of naughty displeasure.
Then, as L saw again the fat motherly
arms and bosom that had nursed me in
all my ailments since babyhood, and as
she, | suppose, caught sight of my
haggard looks, nature proved stronger
than pride and we threw pretense to
the winds.
"Oh, Aunt Sukey, do fix me up or l
shall de-" groared 1, and ''Oh, my
po, POI chile, oh, bress you, yes"
she, rocking me back and
down her face; and when l
was partly eased by that sweet conso-
lation, she added in rare voice of ten
der contrition, Eyes, my POI lamb, it
was jes' all my fault; dose yer gre
jients mought a. stayed in de kitchen
from now till de Fo'th O. July without
hurting deirselves eff hadn't been dat
onsistent; Pm jes' clean 'stracted tink-
in how l done bre'k your leg when de-
want no 'scuse; an it's all de fault of
dis yer ole niger, now suttinly."
This was too much. Conscience
could keep silence no longer before
such an example; and put an end to
my sophistries by bursting out in a
stified wall of confession: ssDon't say
that, Aunt Sukey! L fell down on
purpose"