Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1894-11-23

| III lCdItIIs 10 LID 6IOOpIhS
and attenuated frame showed. John
Brand was young giant of twenty
| eight, handsome, with a certain saw
age KIND of beauty, for his straight
black hair, heavy brows and piercing
eyes made him look more like an
Indian than white man. There was
n savage scowl on his face this morn
ing, too, as he swung his axe, sending
its keen Elade deep into the wood at
every blow.
81 wish We would go with us, John, :"
said his father, after hesitating a mo-
ment, gently laying his hand on his
sons shoulder. ''Brother Eben will
be right glad to see We, an ye know
we never get over there 'cepting at
Thanksgiving"
81 hate holidays" growled John,
throwing off his fathers hand roughly
and continuing his attack on the
wood.
Mr.. Brand walked slowly away and
climbed into the two-seated
wagon beside his wife and little Billy
His appearance contrasted greatly
with that of his WIFE She was not
more than thirty-five and was plump
and good looking. The little boy,
nearly five years old, sat between
them.
''Here are the reins, father" she
said, and smiled up at him, brightly.
She knew that he was greatly disap-
pointed by Johns refusal, although
she was rather glad herself to get
away for one day from the surIy
fellow.
The back seat of the wagon was
piled with extra wraps and hampers
Of pies and cakes to ''piece out" at
the dinner, should brother Eben's
folks be short; but there was plenty
of room for John if he would go. The
farmer turned and looked at him, but
the axe was going faster and harder
than ever, every blow saying as
plainly as could be: 81 hate holi-
daysl' Little Billy was impatient to
start so Mr.. Brand reluctantly
''cluckeG" to the old horse and they
ratified out of the yard.
1t was crisp November morning,
the ground frozen as hard as a rock
anu a VI 1btlC OI 1C6 Of6l dl1
the puddles and in muddy ruts. The
trees on the mountain-side back of
the house were bare of leaves and
their branches sighed and shivered in
the wind. John Brand threw down
his axe and gaZed after the retreatiDg
wagon with lowering brow.
Ten years before his mother had
died. He had loved his mother-al-
most worshiped her, in truth-and
her death had made him feel very
bitter against the fate which had
taken her away. His father had never
had any great share of his fierce
young heart-he was so much diff
ferent from his mother. But they al
ways got along well together, and for
the next four years, instead of strik-
ing out for himself, as he had in
tended, John put his best exertions
into the work of running the great
farm.
There were two hundred acres of it,
woodland and meadow, hill and plain.
1t would all be his some day, so there
was no use IN Johns going off for him
self, so his father said, and John was
accounted a fortunate fellow indeed
by the neighbors.
But change began to come over
his father. John was slow to suspect
the cause, although the neighbors, as
ne1ghbors will, saw and understood it
from the first. John had been so
wrapped up in his mother that never
for an instant did he think that his
father might see some other woman
whom he might wish to make his wife.
1t therefore came like thunder clap
when the farmer told him that he was
about to marry neighboring farmers
daughter, young woman not much
more than half his age.
John did not oppose the union by
words. His fathers determination
seemed, in fact, to have made him
dumb. He only looked his scorn,
anger and contempt, and from that
day was changed being.
His sociability and wit had enliv-
ened almost every gathering Of young
people in the region since his arrival
at manhood. These gatherings knew
him no more. He refused every inVi-
tation. retired within himself and
brooded over Ene wrong which he