St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1893-03-09

slralSht; you never heerd of me go
ing crooked, ell, boy ?"
Seth's open c%ountenance was
turned on him with a reassuring
smile. My father respected you,
SIR he said as if this Judgment
was final. 1t was so accepted by the
old man, and after a cordial nod he
turned away, and went across lots
to his own farmhouse.
But how them boys be goin' to
pay the mortgage beats me-" he
soliloquized. Cant mnch be made
OF stones, and that's the chief crop
this farm will raise. Not but what
the soils good enough where there
is any. Wall, | be doing the square
thing by the widow and the father
less, any way, and the boys shall
have their chance"
Seth, left to himself, was for the
moment overwhelmed with a sudden
sense of responsibility. He leaned
his head on his arms with a hopeless
droop Of his shoulders, pitilul when
seer in n so young. For the mo-
ment he felt that the world was a
hard place for the pennilcss orphan.
Just then a persistent tapping at the
window'pane attracted his atten-
ton. He glanced upwards. There
was poor faded Aunt lem, almost
hidden behind the superb caIlas in
the bow-window. She nodded
and beckoned in fantastic fashion,
and the boy reluctantly obeyed her
demand.
my lilies be doin' pretty fair"
was her remark as he entered the
parlor. "1've got uncommon good
luck with my flowers, anyway"
Seth felt irritated by this intrusion
of Aunt Jem's hobby at so serious a
moment, and the sensitive old lady's
face quivered as she read the unspok-
en- thought. Dan, he were fond of
my flowers" she faltered. Il put
my beautifullest lily in his hand this
noon before-before-"
II saw it," said Seth, his heart
melting at sight of her tears.
"Wall, it all come to me sence then
like a fash. | amt no kin to you,
Seth, o to no one. My folks is all
gone; but Dan, he was always good
to the friendless. He fetched me
over mere, and give me this bow-win-
der for my flowers. 'Twa'n't for
nothing, neither, though he didn't
seeit when he opened his hand to the
lonely old woman. | guess there
amt no one in the country's got my
luck a%-growing flowers. Jest you
look at these ere fuchsias, Seth and
here's a g%eranium, fourteen blooms
as 'ull be out, come Sunday
The boy glanced impatiently at the
show OF blossom, almost angry at
the innocent pride she showed in
pointing out the perfection of her
array of plants.
Aunt Jem,' he said, I'm all
wrong today, | can't abide the
smell of EN-. 1t kind of makes me
sick. I'll look at EN- tomorrow,
and get out OF doors for a while
now"
Aunt Jem's inconsequent face took
on a resolute look.
mo, you don't she said, catch
ing his arm. I'm slow, Seth, and
you've got to make 'lowance; but it
come to melville they was talking
YOU deaf about the mortgage. Seems
like the Lord sent the thought,
Good things come from him, Seth,
and | guess this come along with
the rest
The bewildered boy, accustomed
to look upon the quiet woman, to
whom his parents had given of their
best, as a helpless creature to be
cared for like a child, thought she
had suddenly lost her reason, and
stared blankly into the eyes aire
with a new light.
Aunt Jem, more nervous than ever,
babbled on but some words that she
said caught Seth's attention, and he
began to strive to unravel her mean
ing from her inconsequent snarl OF
wording.
1--WE known it, come Christmas,
bout a year. Dick LOOMS, he amt
got my luck with flowers, There's
some as has, and more as hasn't,
Deacon Smiths wife, she says to me,
a year back, Jemimy,' she says,
there's them folks Twin to the hotel,
always wantin' bouquets. Seems
like .they can't get on without EN- ;
andLoomis, he drinks some, and he
amt got no luck, and. anyway, he
amt got EN- to sell WALL she
saws, Deacon Smiths, wife do say
as flowers them folks must have, and
they be sendin' to Boston, sure's
you're alive, Seth, for bouquetseve
week"
Here Aunt Jem paused in her
incoherent harangue, GREATNESS,
and mildly returned Seth's blank
star.
80 you see," she continued, sit
come to me like a flash and that's
what | called you for, Seth. 1t
seemed ~unfeeling like to be talking of
blooms when you've just buried
your father, but we've got to go on
living, and tears won't pay off your