The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1893-07-12
SELECTED STORY.
A Golden Text.


man, including Jehiel himself. He
went to church regularly, paid his dues
without grumbling--so far as the outer
world knew-owed no man dollar and
permitted no man to owe him one. He
was well-to-do, the neighbors also con-
coded, had one of the finest farms in
that region, and a snug sum in bank to
boot.
His wife, Mary Ann Dobson, was a
small, thin little creature, with pair of
faded blue eyes in which ever lurked
touching expression of WEAKNESS of
both body and spirit She had not
ALWAYS been pale and weary-looking, as
friends of her girlhood could vouch, but
wears of hard toll in kitchen and dairy
toll which had helped to swell that
sum in the bank very materially, and
to add acre after acre to the farm-had
taken the roses from her cheeks and
brought that look in the eyes which
spoke of a weary body and starved
soul. "I'm about tuckered out" was
her usual response to occasional visit
ors, and the sigh with which she
dropped into the chair and the nervous
twitching of her toil-worn hands left no
doubt in the VISITORS mind that Mary
Ann DODSOU JOlQ Lno ITuU0.
There were neighbors who whispered
among themselves that Jehiel Dobson
was too near" much too "near" for
the comfort and wellbeing of his pale
little wife, but the majority of the farm
ers' wives Whereabouts performed daily
the same routine of duties, and went to
bed nightly much more weary than the
farm hands or the horses themselves,
so they had in consequence no sympa-
thy to offer and asked none in return.
One morning in May, in the year of
our Lord 1887, Jehiel Dobson said to
his wife: 1--we bought that field, Mary
Ann-what I've been hankerin' fer so
long-so l reckon I'll have to get a
new band onto the farm. Jim and me
can't do the work of four men much
longer, I'm a-thinkin'."
"Timothy Smiths field?" asked his
wife, as she passed him his second cup
of muddylooking coffee.
eyes, he had to sell at last"
chuckled her husband. 81 knowed it
would come last year when he broke
his leg and was laid up fer so long. He
was in debt then, you know, and he'd to
git in deeper, of course, durin' them
long months of sickness"
eyes," said Mary Ann sadly, " Tim
othy has been unfortunit, poor fellow"
"He did kick agin sellin' the field"
went on Mr.. Dobson, " but l under
stand from Deacon Blake that debts air
a-pressin' of him, and he he'd to sell
that or the house, you see."
YES" assented Mrs. Dobson, " and
it was lucky for him that you wanted
that bit of field, wasn't it, Jehiel?"
Wall, reckon the luck was pretty
ginerally on my side, Mary Ann, for
SEEM as how he was so anxious to sell,
/ hemmed and hawed fer quite spell
afore let him see as how | wanted the
field Jest now at all. You kin have it >
says Timothy, for the same price you
offered last summer was year, but /
warnt to be caught that way, Mary
Ann, so l shook my head and says:
yes, Timothy, but times amt what
they was, and | hev about give over
buyin' it anyway"
Mrs. Dobson sighed, and gave her
husband look of mild reproach, but
said nothing.
"Timothy's countenance FELL" con-
tinued Mr.. DobsOn, "and | calkerlated
onto gettin' the field for about half its
worth on the instant. And ! did,
geefully, "and so the field is mine at
last"
Poor, unfortunit Timothy )" repeated
Mrs. Dobson. s. suppose it's all right,
Jehiel, sense the Scripture says: ITO
him that hath shall be given; and he
that hath not from him shall be taken
even that which he hath and l reckon
you was to take the little he had for
~ nfhar hot .
see jest exactly now"
Mr.. Dobson cleared his throat, then
coughed, and ate the remainder of his
meal in silence. He was his old cheer
full self, however, at dinner, when he
impaired to his wife the news that the
new hand had been engaged
What would you say if I'd tell you
it was Timothy himself?n said he with
a laugh. "But it is all the same. He
come to me this mornin' with tears in
his eyes and asked me fer the place.
He wasn't strong enough, l said, and
that | was afeared his leg wasn't Jest
right yit, and several other objections,
but he declared he was all right and able
to do as much as the next man, and
would work for 81 a day. SEEM as
how was calkeratin' onto payin' S1.50
day, why, jest cllnched the bargin,
and he's TO begin tomorrow"
So Timothy Smith worked week
after week, from sunrise to sunset, and
Mr.. Dobson congratulated himself time
and again that he had secured man
who could accomplish so much for so
little.
"One dollar day amt nothin' in
comparison to the work he does" he
was continually saying to his wife.
Why, he works like horse"
" A dollar day amt much, Jehiel )"
she once replied, Ser such large
family as Timothy has. l don't be-
lieve they see piece of fresh meat
morn once durin' the whole week"
"That's often enough" commented
her husband helping himself to third
piece of steak, "poor folks oughtn't to
expect no more"
g Poor, unfortunit Timothy" sighed
Mrs. Dobson, and her husband shook
his head solemnly, and echoed the SEN