Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1894-10-25
@Re Silence Of
Dean Qaitland.
BY NR<MELL GREY.

Granfcr, piouSly.
Twas terrible vine: but uarneu II
/ Knows what twas all about" SAID
William Grove, scratching his curly
head With some perpleNiy.
All, Mr.. cyril. he have dale too
much farming for the likes G you, VIII
lum,' returned Granter, graciouSlN
coudeSccnding to Williams weaker i'll
tcllect; "let he alone for that. Why,
Lard love zee, Willum, couldn't make
out more'n quarter ont my%elt that
l couldn't, tell 'ee! y vast o larn-
in in that lads head"
"Ay. and some on it WAS poetry;
yerd the jingle of il, said sailor Jim.
Master, now" continued Grantrr.
settling himself more comfortably
against Il tombstone, and leaning for
ward on his Stick-"l.arM a massey,
any WOOL med understand he. He
SpakeS in his diScoorSrS Jest as though
he was 4 fitting in front Of wire atop
of cricket, and zaYing, Well, Gran
fer, and how be- the taatics a-comiug
up| or, 'Granfer, think o yer ZiuS
avore YOU hlames other volk. Ay.
that's how he SpakeS. bless 'un. He
don't know no better, he don't Can't
spake no grander than the Lard have
give 'un grace to-
Masters n good man" said Straun
detiautly. "IIc've done his duty 10y
we this thirty year"
"Ay. he's we'll enough. master is y
continued Granfer, in tolerant man
ncr; Il never had no vault to Wind wi
lie, bless 'un! 4 vine vanity hr'vc
ha, too, lleNe 4 done as we'll as he
could; but Il never was no praichcr TO
Spake on, l tell 'ee.'
Terrible pretty what Mr.. Cyril said
about preaching ito them as knowed
him a boy" said Tom Hale Them
eSskypades, now" he added, fondly. rs
he careSsed his mustache and struck
one of his martial attitudes
What's a eSskypadc, Granfcr:" in
Quired smock- frock.
"A csskypadc," returned Grantrr,
slowly and thoughtfully-"a eSsky-
pade, 10 to gay, is, in Il way O spak-
ing, what you med call Zet-to-a Fart
OF Il scrimmagc like and he fixed his
slittering eye icrcely, yet half doubt
fully, on Tom llale's face, as much rs
to challenge him to deny it,
Just SO, responded Tom. Il said
to mcself, | said Mr.. Cyril is think
ing of the Set-to we had together in
fathers yard that Saturday afternoon
that's what he means by this cSSky-
EadeS."
"Ay, and you licked him well, added
Jim, eagerly; that was summat like Il
fight. Tom
Master Cyril had to be carried
home, and KEEP his bed for week
and Tom, he couldn't see out his eyes
next day" commented the elder Hale,
with pride III his brothers prowess
"Ay, you dreShed 'un, Zure enough,
Tom" commented Granfer, graciouSly
lie took Il deal OF licking, ana hit
out like a man. said the modest war
rior who loved Cyril WITH the pro
found affection inspired only by van
quished foe.
Tom had fought sterner battles
since. He had been through the In.
dian Mutiny campaign, and known the
grim realities Of Lucknow; but his
heart still glowed, as he saw before
him, in his minds eye, the PROSTATE
form of Cyril on the grass among the
timber of the whcelwrights yard
poor, vanquiShcd Cyril, slightcr,
though older, than himself, with his
little shirt torn and blood-stained
and heard the applause of his com
rades gathered to watch The fray.
'Well, ! minds n, little lad, chivy-
ing Granfcr'S wuld SOW round mead
ow," struck i'll Stevens, who had noW
completed all his duties in the church
and locked the door, the great key of
which he carried il his hand.
a vine, peart buoy as ever zee, =
reflected Granfer, and wanted 10
much stick as any on EN-. I've Il
SHACK 'uu mezelf, added Gronfer,
with great dignity and Importance;
lay, and | smaclied 'un web, | did
repeated Granfer, with relish
You was allays a good 'un to smack,
Granfer," observed his grandson, the
clerk, with tender "reminiscences Of
Granlers operation on hisiown person.
Whatever | done, | went through
wi t." returned the old man, Conpla-
Gently digesting this tribute to his
prowess. "Ay, I've smacked 'un me
zelf, and | smacked 'un well, | did,
he repeated, with ever-growing i'm
pOrtance.
Come along home. said Stevens
who was waiting to lock the lich-gate
You baint old enough to bide in
church-yard for good, Granfer."
"Ah. | baint a-gwine underground
this ten year yet, returned Granfer,
shaking his head. and slowly rising
from his tombstone in the blue moon
light, his breath showing smoke-like
on the keen air, and his wrinkled
hands numbed doubly by age and the
winter night. Il bain't agwine yet,
he muttered to himself; while the
group broke up slow, rustic fashion,
- r., Inn a tn.