Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1890-02-05
A CARPENTERS LUCK.
Helped to Fortune and Success by
Mean, Misery Silas."

Mean, Mlserly Silas.
81 am afraid that something has hap
pened to old Silas Washburn," said
John Dorsey, as he gazed out Of his
rear window. There's been no smoke
coming out of the chimney for two
days.
The cabin toward which he was look
ing was way off on the bluffs, with three
miles OF barrens intervening, their des-
olatiop hidden just then by almost three
feet of snow. Though the sun was shin
ing, it was singing cold day, with
enough of wind to occasionally send
the snow scurrying in every direction.
II expect to hear Of his being found
dead some morning." said Mrs. Dorsey,
from the rear of the roam. "Amos
might go over and see what is wrong"
"Rebecca, that is just what was In my
mind" replied her husband. I'm
rather stiff this morning, and Amos Is
so sturdy and willing, that it's best for
him to go. Pack up basket Of things,
dear, and do not forget to put in box
of matches. Ii may be that he is out of
matches"
Silas Washburn was sometimes called
"The Hermit" and sometimes 'Stingy
Silas." He was we'll advanced in life,
and had lived for FIVE years in the cabin
on the bluff. Nobody knew his history,
or why he had sought such a Wild Sc
cluded spot. He avoided society, and
was chary of speech. No relatives ever
visited him, and during those FIVE years
he had not been near the post-office. He
occasionally disappeared for day or
two, but that only deepened the mystery
which surrounded him. He wore very
shabby clothes, and denied himself
numerous comforts. AS he was sup
posed to have money, his parsimony was
looked upon as simply a miserly in
stinct.
BY the time the basket was stocked
with provisions Amos was ready for the
journey. AS his father had said, he was
both sturdy and willing, the one
indicated by his strong, close-knit
frame, and the other by the genial
expression which added charm
to an otherwise homely face. He
was about seventeen years old, and yet
which was that Of a carpenter. Just
then both father and son were out OF
work, building operations having been
suspended for the winter. In little
while his parents were watching him,
as he trudged through the snow, well
wrapped up, the basket in one hand and
a stout stick In the other. Occasionally
he walked erect, occasionally he foun-
dered, and now and then he stopped to
eaten his breath, or to turn his back
upon fierce gust of wind.
When he reached the cabin he saw no
signs of life. The window-panes were
covered with frost, and huge drift filled
the doorway. He pushed through the
snow and placed his hand upon the
latch. To his surprise he found that
the door was not barred. He pushed it
open and stepped into the room. Old
Silas was not dead, neither very weak,
for he called out in loud tone:
"Who Is that?"
Don't you know me?" Amos asked.
at is because it is so dark in here. I
am Amos"
''Oh" came back in sort of satisfied
grunt. What brought you here?"
I'VE didn't see you astir and thought
that something might be wrong" replied
Amos.
THAT was thoughtful" growled old
Silas, who had remaineddn bed for two
days in order to keep warm.
you've some dry wood, haven't you?"
asked Amos.
PLENTY of 1t, my boy. But no
matches"
1--WE brought Matches" Amos said
'1'll soon have a roaring fire."
In little while the fire on the black
hearth was shedding light and warmth
around the scantily-furnished ROOM
Next Amos placed upon the table the
food which he had brought. Old
Silas watched him furtively at
first, and then attentively, once
or twice passing his hand over his
eyes, as If stirred by some long-ago
memory. Presently he crawled out of
bed and put on coat and pair Of shabby
list slippers. His hair was gray, but he
had not lost any of it, There still was
a good deal of fire in his sunken eyes,
and, though his face was sallow and I'M
shaven, IL was Enthusiastically an intelli-
gent one.
"You thought was dead?" he asked.
1--WE we're uneasy about YOU" replied
Amos.
You thought i was starving?"
eve didn't know what might have
happened to you," evaded Amos.
Silas Washburn was hungry and he
% 81.
tion Of Amos. He had befriended the
old gentleman on more than one occa-
sion, but had never succeeded in pene-
trating his reserve. He had not even
showed that he was thankful, Amos
thought. He took too much for granted,
and his meanness had not been exagger-
ated.
~ don't want any pay" said Amos to
himself. 'But think the sacrifices
have made for him deserve some ap-
probation"
He did not know old Silas, and conse-
quently was not just in his estimate of
him. Appreciation may show itself in
something more substantial than speech.
Tho old man was reticentand eccentric,
but he was neither mean nor thankless.
Amos found that out In way that sur
prised him, and taught him to be more
charitable in his decisions.
One day, during the following spring,
word was left at the house that Silas
Washburn wanted TO see him.
"IIe is in tho same strait again."
thought Amos. "He might vary the
thing little and get another pair OF
legs than mine to do his bidding"
That was merely a mental protest.
however, and so he responded to the
summons. IL was a balmy evening, and
LA Gtl.. 49,. . -. Al .>.s.s<l. III. 4. IL