The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1893-04-26

Perhaps l shall not sell it," said
Zedekiah slowly.
mo, I'm not" He had risen and was
wandering about the low-ceiled room,
his hands deep in his pockets. " AT
least, l don't think | am. But some
how it goes against me to part with
Uncle Zed's legacy. Hasn't it been in
the family as long as there's any record,
and didn't my great-grandfather, gen.
erations back, bring it with him when
he came to American"
$50 I've heard tell, Zed."
His wanderngs became more ener-
getic.
"Well, them" he said, {" don't be-
lieve we ought to let it go while we can
stick to it. 1t isn't just because it is
the only thing we shall have left when
we leave here to let the children know
that we came of family that was well
to do once. If they don't make people
respect them for themselves, it isn't
much use having tail of grandfathers
behind them, but when think of the
poor cd great-grandfathe bringing
that big clock across the sea to his home
in the new country, because he priced
! it more than any thing he had, and
when l think of all the generations it
has licked for, can't find the heart to
let it go into strangers hands," He
brought himself up short before the tall
old clock in the corner. "No, the
clock shan't CO." he said.
Zed, you're the queerestr" said his
mother, with an unspeakable conster-
nation. "Queerer even than your
poor father, and l never could make
him out"
But Zedekiah was contemplating the
old timepiece, with its once stately
carving of black oak and its dial of pol
ished brass, where, beneath the d" Giles
Hen best me fecit, London, 1709," ran
half-obliterated legend and the name
"Jacob Barnes, Exeter, 1721."
" believe it's worth ever 80 much
more than 49," he said, examining the
quaint engraving with care. Any
way, it's not going for that, nor for
anything. l don't mean to say /
wouldn't sell it to keep us from starv-
ing, but we're not there yet, and hope
we shan't be-"
" Heaven Forbid" said the widow.
"But 1 mean to set that before me to
work for. A home to put you and the
little girls and the old clock in. Why,
Pm certain the HAIRLESS would give it a
corner in their kitchen till l could claim
tiff it only went and kept good time
that is" He bent nearer to the dial
"What is it it says?" He spelled out
the quaint letters slowly. "Keepe me
true to TYNE, and I'll be true to thee"
"Why, mother" he turned round sud.
denly" wasn't it in Uncle Zed's will
that we should keep it in order and 60.
ing"
Mrs. Barnes thin face flushed little
"Why, yes" she said, it did say SO
to be sure, but il wouldn't 60 when it
first came, although your father tried
to make it, and you know there never
was the money to spend on watchmak.
ers, even if we hadn't felt too badly
over the way Uncle Zed had deceived
us. Whatever are you after, my boy?'
"Only going to see what l can do to
it," said Zedekiah, with calm resolu
ton. 1t seems too bad, somehow
not to have try. Poor old clock, how
could it be true to US when we weren't
true to it? I'll fetch the tools and have
it to pieces anyhow"
"You'll only make bad worsel
Mrs. Barnes rose in some meek ex
asperation and went to the outer
kitchen, There were plenty of small
chores" to do for o.morrow, ant
she felt unreasonably vexed with Zed
ekiah for his refusal to sell the clock
Dearly as ste loved her only son, she
was growing dimly aware that il
strength of mind and will he was leav
ing far behind the little red-haired ur
chin who used to lean on " Mower
for everything, and then he was becom
ing as "queer" and fanciful as hi
father had been before him.
The sound of gentle hammering cam,
from the kitchen without, followed by
the rattle of the ponderous weights OF
their numbering old chains. Ther
Zed's voice sounded eager and pleas
ant.
"Guess what's the matter, mother
No wonder the old gentleman wouldn'
tick The works are all stuffed will
paper. | can't make them move.
shall have to take off the dial before
can pull it out. What on earth coult
have been the object of feeding the ole
thing with crumpled paper?"
She had paused in her work of gather
ing chips and fragments of pin,
branches to lay ready for lighting thu
fire in the morning and stood there
half leaning against the wide and va
cant chimney piece, her arms folded il
her calico apron and her eyes fxet
dreamily on space.
1t bad come over her." as she her
self would have said, with the ever-re
curing shock it never failed to brn!
with it. She thought of how seldom
again should she do these dear and ia
miliar household tasks under the oil
brown roof that had been 80 long he
happy home. Soon strange hand
would be busy in the low rooms she ha,
known and loved so well, and unfamil
lar steps would sound upon the woodel
floors where the footballs had echoe,
that were like the sweetest of music t.
her listening ears. Next week it woul
be all gone-the threshold she ha