The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1893-03-31


Now this struck me suspicious /
did not precisely think Fred was tell
ing n falsehood, but my brief expert
ence of politics had inclined me to dis
trust everything an opponent might
say So | resol-ed to find out for my
self and told Fred as much
''All right for you, Charley" replied
he, driving on offended. go ahead
and see VIII at you'll make of it."
/ reached Vanderson's comfortable
looking farmhouse almost certain of
proving Fred right and myself wrong
by finding no one there. To my ex-
treme surprise / saw an elderly man
near the stable, hard at work oiling a
wagon-wheeL
MIR. Vanderson3" l inquired.
''The same" he replied, hardly look
ing up.
l caught my breath. Fred had told
me lie, after ali L am glad To be
able to say that / wish / had believed
him.
Il want you to come to town with
me, if you please" l continued, after a
minute. lie looked at me, quizzically.
Want me to vote, eh?"
"Yes, that's it How did you know?''
''Oh! there was another young man
here awhile ago, who wanted the same
thing"
So Master Fred had been trying to
steal my man, had he? no longer re-
grctted anything. but solemnly re-
solved that Vanderson should go to the
polls if had to carry him on my back.
He laid down on me pretty consid'-
ble hard. but | told him il warn't no
use. I'm all sole alone to-day, for my
a 81 -
things to do"
at won't take you an hour, Mr.. Van
derson. The elections awfully close,
and we need every vote we can get l
pleaded
''Do, ch? Well, We can't have mine.
young SIR" answered he, looking ex-
tremely obstinate. ''Fustiy, this wag-
on's to lie"
III help you on thatr' exclaimed /,
jumping from the buggy and grasping
the oil can.
Secondly, the stoves to black" he
continued, giving up the oiling to me
without protest
IN do that, to-"
Thirdly, the ashes is to sift for
mulching the apple trees"
And that, too" I persisted, wonder
ing how it happened that all his jobs
should he either dirty or dusty. He
began to show signs of yielding.
IF We can git through in time, p'r'aps
I'll 90 with We. young sir.''
My oiling of that wagon must have
been rare sight, and my bIacking of
that stove n rarer. BY the time / be
gan To sift the ashes my face and
clothes were oil where they were not
all stove polish The ashes combined
with the other substances and the per-
spiration arising from my eXertions
formed a remarkable complexion DOW
der.
Meanwhile old Mr.. Vanderson lighted
a pipe, seated himself comfortably to
windward of my whirling ash dust and
talked on about his farm, family,
friends and foes until | thought he
would drive me distracted Then he
began To ask me questions about the
studies Mt school, and, finding astrono-
NV to he one of them, Immediately
brought out his hobby-a theory that
the moon is inhabited.
Upon this he argued to such an un-
bearable degree that / heartily wished
the moon were inhabited by Wander
son, vote or no vote But had put my
hand to the ash sitter and | would not
look back.
finished the work, did three or four
more little jobs which he pointed out,
and at last, oily, dusty and tired. sue
ceeded in getting fairly on the road to
town.
We drove up to the hall only just in
season The crowd seemed IN more
suspense than ever and our arrival
caused a great commotion. Some APP
plauded, some cheered and some
laughed-not few hissed-and gen.
eral rush was made into the building
AsI hurried my companion through
the throng ! caught sight of Fred, who
stood staring at us with queer mix
ture of conflicting expressions With
triumphant glance at him pressed up
to the box in which, scarcely a second
before the clock struck the hour of
closing, Vandcrson calmly placed
straight ballot which carried the elec-
tion by one vote for-the opposite
party!
Such n yell as went up! Nothing
saved me from being mobbed by my
friends except that the other side sur
rounded me in a dense mass TO proffer
their sincere though bitterly ironical
congratulations. And Fred was the
loudest of them all.
Didn't tell you, didn't l tell you?"
he kept shouting. The son who had
gone away was your man. Old Mr.
Vanderson's never voted anything but
our ticket for the last forty-tive years!
'.Sartain true, young sir!" said the
old man, grinning. "Ye never asked
me about my views, an / TUX it fur
granted We was one of us But If We
amt much of a canyasser ye're a mas
ter hand To work. If yen come out to-
morrow Wen continue our argument
consairning the nhabberterbifty of
the moon. an I'll hav s'more ashes fer
ye To sift!'
broke away from him, escaped the
crowd. and rushed home like a wild
boy. Father subsequently found me
buried in the haymow up to my neck,
crying with rage.
There. there sonny, never mind,
never mind" said he, soothingly. "If
you arent exactly cut out for n politi-
elan no more is your father, either;
and it's n great relief to me that L
haven't got to go to the legislature.'
But if / had only believed Fred, or if
! had ask ed old Mr.. Nanderson a few
questions-or if, or if, or if Manley
III. Pike, in Youths Compauion.
An English Tradition
Southampton Fields, known to GU
riosity seekers rs The Field of the
Forty Footsteps" is a small plat of
ground lying directly to the rear of the
British museum, London. Tradition
says that two brothers, sometime dur