The record-union., 1894-03-03

luSS, NHll6 OiU anu young WOme1, CiIll-
dren, few old, old men leaning on
crutches and sticks, and even country
folk in wagons halting beside the single
village highway, were scattered IN curl
Gus groups between the shore and the
street.
"'Pears like they're mighty sly 'bout
their doin's," whispered one woman to
the other women around her.
'Mebbe it's sly bizness they're on"
they did do leetle piratin' in their
younger days"
Never bin theirsePs," ventured
third, "sence they lost Whey"
well, jess tell ye," piped an old man
on cruiches. shaking one of them threat
eningly at the group, 'thar wasn't emmy
left in Pembroke like Viney."
jess as well fur Pembroke, mebbe,"
was the spiteful retort.
"Ye mean Jess as well fur you wimmen
tolks," returned the old man, warming
with his subject. "Ye're like passel o.
cuttletish when a gals good names
tiounderin' atween yer inky tongues.
But ye only foul yersel's when ye raise
yer voice agin Viney. She had right
ter 60, if she wanted ter. She'd right
ter stay if she wanter ter!'
The old man was so vehement that his
impetuous words turned the tide in the
'
''She was th' best schoolmom ever cum
to our deestrict," bridled up farm wife
from near wagon. shed foot it six
mile i'll NJ out; chop her own wood am
build her own fire; wasn't above sWeepln'
out the school-house, nuther; am then,
arter tightin' sense inter them young
uns' heads all day, she'd set up all night
nussin' tn sick, Mebbe she warn't good
'nuff fur Pembroke" this with mighty
E1,r1t Ia Iai
folks out our way''
well, Viney was handy with her
needle" admitted one OLD lady with
trebmling head
I'M handler with boat than emmy
man at th' head o tn tide,' remembered
another.
''W hat warn't she handy at" resumed
the old man on crutches, beating the
sand and shingle to emphasize his words
'She could cook like a Malayun,"
offered an old salt in evidence.
''She cud work like nigger," insisted
the farm wife from the wagon.
She cud pray powerfuller M tn pas
son." Insisted Clam m-digger Ike, who had
sat unmoved under the droppings of the
sanctuary all his hard old life.
I'M cudn't she sing purity? Oh, N.Y."
ventured one of the bravest of the bare
legged Pembroke lads.
'Sing?-sing! Well raytber," snorted
the old man on crutches. "Thar's whar
th' hull trouble come. Th' Salvashun
band cudn't git a note in edgeWise. drum
m all, when Niney Jetsum jess hem'd
and haw'd leetle, NJ opened them purity
lips. Why, that gal worked her skin t.
tn bones, keerin' fur them three Capt
ings," jerking his head toward the hut.
"'N' whatd she git? Not nuthin'.
What'd she ak 'em fur-them that's got
more money m this hull town."
No one answered and the sympathetic
oracle resumed.
"What was it? Jess pesky origin, or
melodyun, fur th Sund'y-schooi. Dye
sp'ose they'd do that little? Not much
Said their wheezin' old 'cordeon m their
yelpin' old fiddle was a darn'd sight
more music M Pembroke he'd right t.
git; m then when that colleger feller cum
'long, vacationin' two year ago-'n a
likely feller he was-'n' took a leetle
pity on Viney, m sent her origin from
Bosting, they jess up m sold it out O.
spitel"
''Said 'twuz puttin' unlikely notions in
her head. l heerd 'em say as much" in
terrupted the stone-mason's wife, imme-
diately swapping her lips together and
slowly nodding her head.
"Yes," continued he OF the crutches tri-
umphantly. ''an' then Viney lit out. But
don't you forgit it, feller citizens, Viney
lit out on her own money-her own hard
earned money. She didn't light out with
no cOlleger neither. I'll jess bet my next
quarters pension money agin all them
Captings IS got, that wherever Finey Jet
sum is, she's workin' IN singin' m
prayin' jess as steady as she did in Penn
broke. Darn my hide! Them cantaker-
Gus old Captings ought ter be a huntin'
her stead O. sallin' away for their health;
IN if l had my way they'd bring her
back t. Pembroke, 'pologizin' all the
for 'em outside 'Quoddy Headr'
"'Taint no such town 'thout her as
'twuz," sighed Clamdigger Ike.
NO sech town? No town at all, :" sput-
tered the old man, stumping upand down
and around and among his listeners,
while making the sparks fly from the
gritty rock and shingle with the iron fer
rules of his crutches. mo more spellin's
down: no donashun parties fur tn pas
son; no singin' school; no more clam
bakes; no quiltin's; no pickniekin'; no
reviyalin'; no nuth'Di NJ them three
critters done it. Pshawi''
The tender hearted old fellow could
contain himself no longer, and, with a
fierce shake OF the crutch at the hut and
the gayly-rocling "Happy Thought"
Stumped vigorously away up the high
Them three critters done it," said the
farm-wife respOnsively, as. her wagon
started away on its homeward Journey
among the hills.
"Them three critters done it sure"
echoed Clam-digger Ike, skimming bits
OF silvered rock like scudding seafowl
along the surface OF the creeping tide
Unconscious and unheeding of Penn
broke criticism, though full OF important
secresy in their movements, the three
ancient shippers, still locked within the
hut, were holding the most solemn con-
clave of their lives.
They were alike as the almost flowing
blue trousers that enveloped their re-
spective shrivelied legs; the blue pea
Jackets upon their bent old backs: the
fluffy gray shirts beneath; the huge black
kerchieis dangling from under spaniel
cared collars. over which poured strik-
ingly alike cascades Of white and shaggy
boards which seemed 10 leave but little
room for redeemed noses, beady eyes and
wrinkIed ioreheadS, as II blended into
white shaggy eyebrows and shaggy white
hair, runaIng like wreaths OF WE'LL
hacked hemp from the napes of their
scraggy necks up over their hairy ears
nicely defining little, round spaces of red
and shiny scalp, all precisely as if cut
from the same patchwork pattern. and
still as alike as the ancient SOU westers
they grasped in their left hands, for their
right hands laid together in a solemn
little wrinkly and knotted pile on the top
of an extinct sheetiron stove.
"Viney's got ter be got" said Captain
Benjamin Ballast, with force and feel
ing.