Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1893-03-25

sx> Of shiftless critters like
you-thar's no gittin'
/ over-burdens which stick closer than q chest
nut shuck, an is about as wearin'.
"Im one-and-twenty, mother" returned
Charles Henry, land banker after seein the
world. and
| Don't tell me-" said his mother; "don't tell
me what YOUR hankerin' after. l know it'll
| out anv tellin'. It's the fieshpots you've got
| your eye on. The feshpots Of Egypt! That's
what you're after. You're about as fit a
| spring chicken is to see the world. Jest about
as fit to come up to the scratch, you poor inno-
cent You quit this foolshness an set to work
sawin' wood. That's what nature meant you to
do, an if you go agin nature she II git even with
| you you bet your bottom dollar Thar's a
deal of solid religion in sawin' wood, specially
| when it amt dry"
Charles Henry jingled his pocket suggest
| lively. 1t was full Of dollars. Then he walked
to the window and gazed at the mighty Ottawa.
I'm sick OF this old hen roost," he said irrita-
! bly,. with look Of defiance in his ordinarily
mild blue eve.
/ Mrs Henry Hawkins reached over and ierked
him back to the breakfast table.
Whites you're in this hen roost Charles
Henry. she said. in tones which did not admit
of dispute-"whiles you re in this hen roost
calculate you II have to finish up the proyender
set before you by the old hen that runs it,
Charles Henry meekly went on with his
breakfast. but there was an obstinate look in
the Youths face as he did Mrs. Henry
Hawkins waited until lie had finished and then
severely eyed him once more.
1T amt no good, mother" said Charles
Henry. 1T amt no good. It's time for me to
go forth ont of the wilderness. SO to speak. and
nave my little whack. l want to see what's
goin' on in the world. do
You want to what's goin' on in the
world. Most people wants to shut their eyes to
what's gOin on in the world You let the
world alone" said his mother. Its been
tumbiin about good many years ithout your
help. | reckon your heads turned jest because
your uncle Jabez left you that $500.
Charles Henry again jingled his pocket.
Wal. said the old lady. with subdred irony.
Il reckon it's too much for you. You're off
your base. You want to go an mingle with the
feshpots an painted Isabels an feetin JOYS of
this world, an spend ali your money ar then
come back like the progidy son. But you may
, MAKE no your mind. Charles Henry, Jest as
sure you're born (I'm sure l don't know
where Providence located your mind-what
there is of ia. tharll be precious little veal on
the premises for you when you git tired of run
min free an comes crawlin' home full of husks
after the manner OF the Scripters.'
Il never was great on veal" said Charles
Henry, indiherently. Not me- It's no use
mother. I'm like the birds when the cold snap
starts-Eve got to get OUT
"A jay birds the only sort of bird you're
like" returned his strong-minded paren t.
q
an git other birds to lay your own eggs for
you.
Charles Henry had never before asserted him
SELF Now he had money in his pouch. and when
especially man OF one and twenty-five is bound
to assert himself. Look here mother" he said
deliberately. you've coored me up all my life.
haven't even been down en- a raft to Mon
treal. The boys in Niilar's store are always
hing!ng it at me. might be a chipmunk under
tree for all the good 1 set out of life. 1
can't keep still. I've got to move on. l want
to see things for myself. What's it matter If /
spend the money? What's anything matter?
D'yoI want to die because I'm sick of
things? hear voices calling me away into the
world-the great glorious world yonder beyond
this little village. | want to see it. taste it. to
find out what it's like: and then I'll settle down
and saw wood and do chores. but I'm blamed
If I'm going to do it till I've had my little
whacx."
Go on said his mother grimlv. $50 on.
Charles Henry. Have your litrle whack! Heap
dust an wood ashes your sorrowin' parent"
II don't want to heap wood ashes on any,
body, said the literal Charles Henry. But
can'tyou understand? l feel like sugar maple
when the sap begins to rise. and
Thar precious little sugar in you Charles
Henry. Precious little. An If you go away
you'll be bied like a sugar maple. That whatll
happen 20 you. nv SON.
Well said Charles Henry indifferently,
whats it NATTER"
Mrs. Hawkins was staggered. "Youre pas.
praying for she calculated "a whole
mourner's bench couldn't save you."
Charles Henry asserted himself. His tones
were those of repressed passion. You let me
go my own way, mother. l dare say it's all
true. But you can't understand-you can't
understand. l must see it all. want to go to
London ana have look round and get it all
fixed
.'Oh. you'll git fixed" said the old lady.
You'll sit fixed in police barracks. That's
where You'll bring up"
Let me start, mother the youth pleaded.
| III have to. It's in my blood. I'll go mad if
don't. l see it a!!-feel it-hear it, Dream
OF 1t nights. | must see what it's like. I'll
come back again. mother. I'll come back. But
must 60 Its living grave here
Mrs. Henry Hawkins gazed out of the win
dow on the swollen Ottawa as 1t Numbered
past patch or two of snow betohened that
winter had barely fed behind the noun tains on
the opposite shore. But the sun blszed tercey
out upon the little Canadian village. gay with
glittering tin spires and brightly kued wooden
houses. Most of the inhabitants were MAILING
up their gardens for the summer. The potato
bug. clad In a triple mail which had withstood
the nerce frost of winter. perched upon the
cedar rails and summed himself until returning
life warmed his airy wings. There was a hum in
1.-The air of newly born MOSQUITOES seeking whom
they might devour. The grass sprang greenly
by the roadside or along the edges OF the little
creek where blooming batrachians beloved
forth their tale of love to coy fair ones half
buried i'll the mud. Here and there rooster.
his comb SCARED and frostbitten, strutted
proudly up and down or tapped his wings and
crowed defiance to the world-that world which
Charles Henry found too cramped for his
wants. Habitants, driving brightly bedizened
ponies dashed through the village OF thronged
into the stores with the first eggs of the season.
The sky a brilliant cloudless blue. The tall
| elms which lined the village road had burst into
| buds in a single night. Winter had taken his
| stern grip from the throat Of all things. There
was a murmer Of summer in the air, a rustic
amid the growing grasses, the arrowy fight Of
| myriad swallows over the roofs of the houses,
| the pickering Of innocent robins they flew
| about laden with straws and twigs for their
nests. Over all was the wild. sweet Joy of the
| sum warmed air. and away in the distance the
! mighty trees of the Bush showed greenlv
| against grim background Of mountain. The
| world was agog with life. Pulses quickened, the
unutterable jov Of it filed every heart-every
heart save those Of Charles Henry and his irate
| parent.
"wal," said the old lady, in answer to
Charles Henry's last remark Cher glance fell
lingeringly upon the wide expanse OF river and
| then turned to the mountain beyond), ''if this
Is the place you last mentioned 1 kin stand a
| good deal of it. But here's Phenisby Anne
Come in, Phenisby Anne, and stop his foolish
| ness"