The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1895-01-16
SELECTED STORY,
The Professors Charge.

raw children, children, children-eVery-
where childrcn-laughing, running, skip
ping and generally disporting themselves
with the amiable idiocy of youth.
What on earth shall l do with itP''
muttered the professor, drumming on the
window with his eyeglasses. What put
II into my sisters head that / would be
the best person in the world to take care
of her childY Why didn't her husband
outlive herr Why did she dieP The whole
thing has been simply plan to break my
--hem l don't mean that. l suppose
poor Jane would have lived If she could,
but what am l to do with a 3-year-old
child in my bachelor quartersY l don't
know, I'm sure If Mottsboro were big
city, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad, but in
miserable little village like this, where
every ones business is known TO every one
else, shall be driven mad, l know / SHALL"
AS he stood gazing out of the window
across the short stretch of level green lawn
and over the snowy pickets of the well
kept fence he became aware of a face at
window of the next house.
"Oh, mercyp' exclaimed the professor,
half aloud, what will she think? never
spoke to her but once, and that was at
Mrs. Barbey's lawn party whore l was
introduced to her. Then she said it was II
pretty sight and answered, Yes, it looks
like rain l couldn't help it. She was so
beautiful, and l was so--so-so modest
or-bashful-or idiotic-or something"
1t was quite true. Ever since Professor
Arthur Brewster instructor in mathemat-
les and astronomy at the Mottsboro high
academy had been presented to Miss Ma
bel Riker he had never dared to speak to
her again She had passed him on tho
street often and had always greeted him
with pleasant smile and bow, but he
had never dared to do more than lift his
hat awkwardly and hasten on. He would
have given a months salary to find cour-
age to say something and years for the
audacity to join her in IA walk, but he re
allied that courage was not a purchasablo
commodity.
She saw him at the window and smiled,
whereupon he retired into the room with
great celebrity. Her smile always fright
ened him. 1t always made him feel as If
his heart had jumped out of place. He
had hardly recovered from his alarm
when the aged woman who acted rs house
keeper cook and general servant in his
small cottage knocked at the door, and on
entering said:
"There' q mon here wild a child. "
80 Lord, it's GOMEZ" said the professor,
the perspiration starting out on his brow.
He went down to the sitting room, and
there he found the express messenger. The
professor did not dare to take his eyes off
the man lest they should fall on the queer
bundled up object on the sofa.
Professor, " said the messenger, "here's
the kid safe an sound. Brought 'cr all
the way myself. She's jimdandy, she is,
Her trunk is in the wagon. Wot'll 1 do
with 'ty'
Bring it in and put it in the small
room up stairs -"
&, While the man was out of the room the
professor walked to the empty fireplace
and stood gazing into it, painfully aware
that his every movement was solemnly OBJ
served by two coal black eyes. He could
not have told how he knew they were
black, but he was morally certain of it,
The man returned with the trunk and
deposited it in the small room beside a
brand new iron bedstead.
"That's all o K, professor" said the
man, pocketing certain bills Il hope
you'll like the kid for she's jimdandy. "
A strange information in the man voice
caused the professor to tremble. There
was a dismal silence for several minutes,
and then high pitched treble voice said;
= lis you my Uncle Art 'urP"
The professor started, turned and found
the eyes looking up at him. There was no
mistake, they We're as black as a crows
wing. So was the hair that hung in tan
giles around the olive brow. The lips were
red enough and the teeth white enough,
but those eyes were dreadful.
II am your uncle, Mary, he said feebly
Mamma said you'd be dood to me-
Mammals dead"
There was queer monotonous pathos
In the speech. The professor felt new
emotion. He did not know what it was
but 1t made him bend down and lay his
hand gently on the child's head as he said:
I'm be good to you, Mary"
"Den take off my flngs."
This was more than the professor had
hargained for, so he called the old woman.
But the child refused to be touched by her.
do way" she said with a most ma
agnant expression, do way. Wants
Uncle Art ur to be dood to me- Don't
want ole womans. l scyatch ole womans."
"Modher O. Mosesl Would yez heark to
dhot9''
The professor was fain to make an at
tempt to take off the "fings." He strug-
gled bravely and got the point of pin in
his finger, which drew from him q rude
PIN 'tick?" gravely inquired Mary.
ut did," answered the professor.
"Well, you mus'n say no naughty
words, ;" continued Mary, "or you can't go
10 heaven My mammals dere wish l
was -
And then the little black head fell for
ward, and a tear or two fell.
Professor Arthur Brewster looked I'M
comfortable at the old woman for a mo-
pent Then he motioned to her to go. she
pbeyed, but when she peeped through the
boyhole moment later she saw the pro-
fessor tenderly take the gypsy looking
mite in his arms and hold it close to his
breast, where the tears ceased to flow and
the unnatural gravity resumed its sway.
II wants to see house." said Mary.
"What housei" inquired the professor.
''Dis house. replied Mary, plainly mar
koling at his denseness.
"Ohl" remarked the professor humbly
He took her by the hand and led her
from room to room. She shifted at the
Kitchen and viewed her own little apart
mont with evident doubt. But when the
professor was about to return to the sit
Ting room, passing the door of his study
she suddenly stopped
wants to do in dere," she said.