Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-01-17

Some seemed to recognize him, and ran bleating toward the outstretched hand that so oft had fed them. When he came to gaze about on the beautiful landscape, the fields and pastures of his dear old home, he was almost sorry that he had that diploma with the de- gree of M. D.
 Il could live happier here as farm er-boy than anywhere else on earth," he sighed. But he remembered that he could not always be a boy, and all the boys could not be farmers. Blessed, indeed, is the lot of the boy who is a farmer, untrammeled by ambition, holding sweet communion with nature the year 'round-we can but envy the farmer. Thus, he tolls, but when night comes he sleeps without harrassing cares or annoyances of the morrow. No troubled brain and veXatious suits, fall in price of goods, tottering banks or dangerous patients disturb his sleep. And while he sleeps the corn and cattle grow in value.
 All these reflections came to the mind of the young M. D. as he gazed about over the old homestead. At last he turned about to enter the house. He had wandered around to the rear of the farmhouse, and was coming up to the kitchen when he discovered some one sitting on the back porch who attracted his attention. It was only little boy, not over six or under four years of,age to judge by his face, though his body was dwarfed and his little form misshapen. He was little hunch- back, with a sweet patient face, which bore evidences of suffering, and yet the large blue eyes were clear and bright. He sat in his little rocking chair enjoy ing the warm sunlight which streamed in upon the latticed portico.
 "Where did the child come from ?" ! he asked aloud, though he evidently did not expect an answer, for he was too far away from the child for it to hear, and he saw no one else. Some one else saw him, however. Peddler Pete was an early riser, and on this morning, as was his usual custom when at farmer Stuart's, he lit his pipe and took stroll "about the place" before break fast.
 "Ye never saw that little feller before ?" he asked, stepping from behind cherry bush within three or four feet of Warren, and holding to- ward the little cripple. "No, never saw him, nor heard of him before."
 He's well known all over Sandy Fork" and Pete pressed his finger in his pipe bowl
 "That may be true, Pete, and he still be stranger to mo. You know I have not been about Sandy Fork very much for the last five years. Three years in college and then two in the medical school have taken considerable from my life."
 That's so, why doggon it, I'd forgot that" said Pete, puffing away at his i pipe.
 That is an interesting child"
 Pete shook his head sadly and said ''Yes, he's good child and will never be at home any place save in Heaven. He's just one O them good little boys the Sunday-school books tell us about who 'aller's die; he's got to die, and then I guess some one will write book 1 about him."
 "Who is he, and why is he here ?''
 Didn't ye ever hear of MT. Lake man, Benjamin I believe, who lived down on Sandy Fork creek on the old Plumber place ?"
 II think 1 heard of the name a year or so ago when I was home during vacation"
 "Well, that's his child.''
 "Where is MT. Lakeman P" ] 90 him ? he's dead"
 fS' And the boys moUner?"
 "Sht's dead, too, died fust," said -+s, sadly, refilling his pipe.
 And the child is heir to the Plumber farm? Well, it's very valuable, and he has ample support
 Not much" said Pete, striking q match and applying it to his pipe. "Why notP"
 "The little fellow was euchred out O 1t some way. He hasn't nothin' but z hundred and sixty acres O brush anC hills not worth ten cents an acre."
 ''Then father keeps him as matter of charity?"
 "NO, boy, yer wrong agin-I should have said doctor, but forgot" anc Pete laughed. But Warren was too much interested in the little cripple be fore him to heed the little joke of hi friend, the peddler.
 "You say my father does not keel him?'' he asked.
 ''No, yer father does 'keep him; bu not as matter of charity" said Pete
 "He has other means thenP' ''Not dollar.''
 ''Why, Pete, what do you meanp'
 Warren asked, in astonishment, "yol talk in riddles; please explain your self"
 "Haw, haw, haw, like to see ye pug zled, boy-no, doc, Imean-but I'll no