The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1890-01-11

come back in q couple of years, glad to go a
farmingf What harms bsen done, say
What harma' #
''Oh, thank you, father" said Jacob
huskily; 'pm obliged to you"
t.Will yer be a-going soone'' said Aun
Kate, presently, accepting the inevitable
with feminine quickness; "'cause yerl
need some more socks, I'm thinking"
ayes, mother" said Uncle Aaron, smil
ing, as one humors child; 'syes, he'll need
the socks"
.sTll 20 and see if the yarn be there,'' SAID
Aunt Kate, suddenly all wide-awake ano
energetic; elf he goes soon they're moi
madei in day." and she jumped from hel
seat, climbed the ladder and disappeared in
the loft above.
ssLet's 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 I didn't, won't. It wouldn't b.
worth while, you know, to worry you" All
the sweet smile that came over his face.
tsDear lad, would not keep ye. Go
Ye're young and smart, and I know
yen do WE'LL know yell do well.
Why, some Of these days it'll be an
honor for me to say yer my lad-and, per
haps, yen be ashamed of yer poor old father
and mother.''
''Whatv' cried the boy, and such look
Of indignant love glowed in his face that
his father added, hastily: ''I'm 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.
~ wish had been born twenty years later
and different. Sometimes, do yer know,
lad, see another sort Of life from this.
feel as if-as tiff I'd had but the schoolin'
it would have been different. Do yer I'M
derstand?'' he said, modestly; II sound
queer to ye, mebbe!"
sNo," said Jacob, earnestly; "you don't.
Oh, father! fatherl What puzzle life is,
anyhow and the young fellow buried his
face in his hands, and with the selfshness
of the young groaned aloud. The greater
soul merely stiaed its pain and said:
''When will ye go, think ye?'
II don't know; next week, guess" said
Jacob, looking up. "Will that be too soon?''
ssNo." answered Uncle Aaron, tsnot toe
soon-not too soon."
'sSome way, father, can't bear to thinA
of settling down here all my life. 1t just
chokes me.''
"Don't fret, lad; don't fret. I understand
yer feelin's, and it makes no differ what
the others sayit makes no differ"
81 guess" said Jacob, at last, after they
had stood silent some moments, II guess
I'll chop pile OF wood before go, to keep
mother agoin'."
; t'All right" nodded his father.
The boy went about his work, but the
man stood still looking out over the valley.
In g dumb way he felt penned in, stifed,
himself. He had felt so often during his
later years, something as of repressed 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 knowledge! With them
he could have done wonders in the world
he felt it. Without them he was but a big
wistful-eyed brute, that eat it's food and
eat and slept again.
But the boy-that was his one outlet.
GENTLY he turned, and, smiling, STROBE back
towards the house.