The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1892-06-24
THE DEEP CUT.

habit of curling myself up when want
to enjoy a good novel;, tossed my book
aside, stretched myself YEARLY and
looked down the road toward Wood
burn. Although l had done nothing
but read all morning, was hungry.
Youth and high health always combine
to strengthen the demand for bread
stuffs. 1t was time my dinner had come,
1 said to myself glancing at the clock in
my cagelike room. Just then familiar
sound caused me to rise and open the
door,
There, on the path beside the railway,
stood Tim Ferris His golden curls were
blowing across his blue eyes, dancing up
and down in the May wind, bobbing like
clover heads before the breeze. He was
pattering along barefooted on the clay
path made by the workmen who made
the deep cut and the bridge. The basket
on his arm seemed trite heavy. He
was putting energetically when 1 called
to him:
what's your hurry, Tim?"
He hurried on until he stood at the
bottom of the steps leading up to my
station, looked up at me with sparkling
eyes and answered:
81 couldn't help it. I'm to go to Wood
burn to see the circus, and there's real
live elephant, and ostrichus, and lions
and whales and a unicorn
Here Tim, relieved of his basket and
bucket, drew long breath, looked at his
feet, at his ragged clothes, then up at me
wistfully, and added: II don't know
how many things there is, but Jim Stacy
says there never was nothin' like it. And
mann said can go-but I've got to be
quick, COS jim Stacy's goin' to take me
in his wagon, and he's morn rattlln
things to get ready
IN that case, Tim" said l, you'd
best not wait for the things. I'll take
them home myself. You just hasten
home, young man, and-here."
Tins eyes grew as big as two saucers
as he looked at the coin in his palm, then
up into my face. His bright blue eyes
were moist; the little fellow was crying
with Joy already. He opened his mouth
to thank me. but l cut him short.
That's all right, Tim. You cut right
back home. and tell your mother l will
make the damage good if anything hap
pens your new suit. 1t won't do to go
shabby, Tim. You must blacken your
shoes and put ribbon on your hat"
Nam won't have no time"
You listen to me, You can so home
through the deep cut
Through the tunnel, Mr.. Moore?"
II said through the tunnel. 1t will
save more than half mile, and you will
be ready before Stacy calls for YOU"
I'm glad you told me-"
And Tim was off like bird.
What happy little fellow he was, so
brave and manly, and the soul of truth.
1t shown in his bright blue eyes; illumi-
mated his whole face. Nobody could
look at Tim Ferris, ragged, dirty, sun
Drowned as he was, without seeing and
approaching all that was most to be ad-
mired and loved in child of eight. That
was the sum total of Tins life.
As his yellow curls glinted in the sun
shine, gave him a parting glance, then
put my foot on the steps to mount to my
hoofs on the road fell on my ear.
1t was Bob Somers going home from
Woodburn with the morning mail for his
fathers mill. l knew Bob and BOb's
horse well. He refined up, dismounted
leisurely, as was his wont, and set down
on my steps to talk about the last frolic |
over at Sidley's barn raising. Meantime,
l was absorbing Mrs. Ferris warm meat,
biscuit, pies and milk as fast as hungry
man could, talking between bites. The
o fee was as quiet as aChlrchyard. Bob !
was describing, in strict confidence, the |
young lady who was to be Mrs. Bob |
Somers some day, when Rockford called |
me.
l paused in the act of nipping good |
half of one of Mrs. Ferris pies, and in |
clined an ear. Rockford was twelve
miles west of my station. Usually l
called Rockford, and then only to COM
municate matters of moment sent me
from the east. Otherwise was not to |
NEEDLE with Rockford. The call from
Rockford sounded sharper even than
usual. 1t was so imperative that even
Bob Somers remarked it.
Sounds like as if they were in an all
fired hurry, whoever it is"
bounded up the steps and answered
promptly. Rockford responded in re-
turn. Short, clear and sharp came the
message:
Bridge down at Bakers Run. Con-
struction train due WOODBURY. at 1915.
Advise WOODBURY..
Such a shock l never experienced be-
fore, and hope 1 never may again. A
cold chill ran over me. l suppose it was
Imagination, but 1 thought my heart
ceased to beat for half minute, and
then it gave mighty throb as l signaled
Woodburn sharply, again and again.
Woodburn responded Crustily. repeat
ed the message, then stood just long
enough to receive the o. K. In the mean
time had decided upon my course.
l leaped--I did not rundown the
short flight of stairs in front of my
station, sprang upon Bob Somers' horse,
spurred him with my heels viciously and
galloped along the railway as fast as the
horse would carry me. l did not pause
to explain; did not speak; all my ener-
ges centered on one object. A human
Iife-a precious human life-was at stake,
and that life was the light of house
hold.
| had unwittingly sent little Tim Ferris
10 his death.
To explain. The WOODBURY. con-
nection was new. Months must elapse
before travel and traffic of considerable
volume would be directed over the new
branch. In the meantime one passenger /
ind one freight train moved east and
vest past Stanley every morning and j
evening. The road between Rockford
md WoOdburn was so silent the greater
part of the time that the birds made
tests near the ties, and squirrels frisked |
IlOng the rails in the sunshine undis-
urbed.
l imagined, as galloped madly along
he railway, now on the track, now be- !
'ween the tracks, now on the other, | I
ould hear the roar of the construction '
rain laundering around the curves near '
he river. Once, twice, l checked the !
4, II I.