The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1893-06-14

OSii 10 lVo', JUL 10 lOob, WAS I'LL
Joe could think of, as he sat and tried
to collect his thoughts. She hadn't
gone with him that morning to take the
why hadn't he known then that she
was lost Then he suddenly remem-
bered that he was losing time grandpa
and Jack were probably far off by this
time. Maybe she had gone to the viii
lage, a mile and half away; he started
down the hot, dusty road, but at the
village no one had seen her. He went
farther and farther down the road, then
left it to look helplessly in the woods
on either side, If perchance some bright
flowers had tempted her there. Noon
came, and in the fierce, hot sun he
walked on and on, until his feet were
blistered and sore and his hes ached
from the hot glare. He tried to eat the
great, luscious blackberries that grew
all about, but always the picture of lit
tie Jerry's tear. ST aimed face, hungry
and tired, came before him, and the
hot tears would roll down his face, and
he would jump up again and walk
farther, resolved to find Jerry before he
went home.
All the long summer afternoon he
knew that at the farm house the COWS
were all MIXED and grandpa would be
sitting on the stoop with his pipe. But
oh, Jerry, Jerry how could they when
she, with her golden hair was lost
Perhaps she had tried TO reach the
| grove where they had picknicked one
day, but Joe stood aghast when he
thought that the grove was vet four
| miles awnV. rnovbo if bo uollyr "a foeto,.
he could reach there soon, but oh, how
his feet did hurt and how his head did
ache and throb. Then the moon came
up and the stars came out, and still the
boy kept up the monotonous walk, still
calling: Jerry here, Jerry" first
fast, then slower, slower. until at last.
worn out with the days steady walking,
with nothing to eat but the early break
fast at the farm, he stumbled upon a
gnarled root in the road and Law there
in a half faint, half slumber. Slowly
the night passed away, the moon went
down, the stars grew dim and acre IS
the east faint gray streak told of the
new day coming, and the farmers be-
gan to come into the city.
Over al the farm that morning every
one wore a sober face; even CHEEKY
IL. OWu was llOWulUO DIS he
said: He needn't have gone away as
if he had stolen something and without
one word of thanks. | don't under
stand it, mother, [ truly don't; he was
an upright little chap, and 1 know he
wouldn't have gore away without say
ing goodbye to Jerry, here, would he,
little ont?"
"Oh, mamma, oh, grandpa, l know
To- /
he will " walled Jerry dismaly.
"Oh, yes, he will come back" sneered
Jerry's plain-spoken mother; " always
knew that no good would ever come of
taking a good-for- nothing ragamuffin
and treating him like prodigal son,
and Pm not bit surprised at the way
things have turned out!"
But scarcely were the words spoken
when heavy knock at the open door
startled them, and in came farmer
Reed, bearing in his arms such white,
lpless-looking boy.
" Neighbor Brown, this is that city
boy of your, isn't il? l drove in from
home this morning and found him
asleep on the read to Deane's grove,
and bless me if | don't think the lad is
pretty sick, for not one word has he
said but to moan: Jerry is lost,
Jerry is lostl" Sick or daft, should
say.'
1t was not long before loving hands
had ba he'd the fevered limbs and the
throbbing nerves were yielding to the
cool, soft touch as he lay in the great
white bed in the coy little room that
he hid learned to love so much. But
ever he moan ed and tossed, calling al
ways: Jerry, Jerry! don't be afraid,
Jerry, Joe is coming to find you'll! "
AT last graLdpa turned to Jack hur.
riedly and asked: "Whe,e was Joe
when you saw him last?"
s. In the barn, sir, when you came
and said the lamb Jerry was lost"
" Mother" grandpa's eyes grew very
dim and his voice very low and husky,
" l understand it all now. The boy
thought that our baby, our Jerry, was
lost, and must have been seeking her
for hours. Bless the boy, but how his
tender heart has been bleeding while
our little one was safe at home.'
Then, or, how tenderly they nursed
him through the long, tedious weeks of
fever; how at the first sign of recogni-
tion they had seated Jerry upon the
bedside, and watching the happy CLEAN
as Joe cried: ION, Jerry, I'm so glad!
"Now slowly the leaves began to get
brown and the long summer was grow
ing TO an end. Meanwhile Joe grew
well and strong, and once more drove
the cows with Jerry by his side, ard
wove beautiful wreaths for the lite
white lamb. How his heart ached
when he thought that now in day or
two he must go back to the struggle and
work of the city. Then he would give
Jerry's hand squeeze and try to choke
down the great sob that would rise.
1t was late in September that grandpa
one evening said quietly: Joe, lad,
the fall is here, and l guess it's time
for city boys to be going home, eh2"
Then it was that daughter Jane cried
Indignantly: Father, after all that
boy has done, he shall never 90 back to
that city. He shall stay right here, and
no one shall ever say Il at he wants a
home while have oneu'
How grandpa's ewes did twinkle "a