Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1896-02-06
Jerry Duncal'S Philosophy.
BY NELLIE BURNS.

Jerry Duncan's COW was deaa, yes,
dead; there was no mistake about it,
But Jerry seemed to doubt the fact; the
calamity was too dreadful to accept
Again and again he took hold of her
horns and shook them: called her by
name; but it was TO no purpose. There
was no response. The COW was dead.
81 wouldn't IA b'leeved it posserble
fer you to "a been took from me like
this an leave me erlone an 'thout any
means o. serport, Betty" said the old
man, STOPPING over the cows PROSTATE
body. "YOu wuz all | had. You wuz
both my comp'ny an my livin. Betty
But then s'pose some good'll'come out
o. IL, or twouldn't IA happuned."
He Strengthened himself. turned
around and walked slowly out Of the
barn. AS he was hobbling across his
dooryard on his wooden leg neighbor
CHANGED to be passing by. He stopped.
Jerry, ! hear your COW is dead"
he said
We'll so It's" the old man respond
ed.
That's too bad, too BAD the neigh
Dor returned, sympathetically. 1T will
be'a great loss to you, won't it,"
at pears that way now, but then
s'pose some good'll come out o. it some
way. But it's mighty hard to see it,,
since the milk l sold wuz I'LL L had to
live on. It's erbOut the hardest blow
I've had since my old woman died.
l tell you. l come pooty near givin'
uD my phloserfy then. You see, I've
alters held strong to that b'lief that
some good comes out o. ev'rything that
happuns, or in figer'tive language, ev'ry
cloud has its silver linin'. But
couldn't see nothin' but the cloud fer
long time after that. But when
got so l could reason it over, and
thought how ole Polly wuz a-gittin'
how she suffered from neuralgy, how
her teeth wuz all out and we not able
to git no more how her eyesight an
hearin wuz going. an then thought
o. her bein' out o. all sech mizry, why,
sir. / saw the blessin' plain ernough
then"
The old man paused an instant, thrust
his wooden leg forward, and continu-
ed:
Now, like as not you wouldn't
think there wuz any bright side to n
Teller losn' his leg an havin to hobble
Ground on wooden stump like this.
But there wuz, with me. Fore that ac-
cident when / lost my leg, / use to
suffer tur'b ul pain In 1t from rheumcr-
tism. When / lost the leg l lost the
rhcumertism. Can't you see the silver
linin' there? But erbout, the COW.
confess the cloud looks pooty black;
an as yet, there amt a sign of O
linin', that can see. You see. amt
as young as i once wuz The fact IL,
an l nights well own 1t, I'm just er.
bout laid on the shelf. / amt good fof
no kind o. hard work. An Betty wuz
all that stood between me an the poor
house. That trip over there has been
starin' me I'm the face q long time
I've put 1t off from year to year, fel
seems like t'would choke me to eat
dependent bread; but, after all, I'm a
feared III have to go. Good evenln'.
Jerry turned abruptly and walked
I'm to the house. A quaver had come
into his voice, and he was too proud O
man to let the world see such weak
ness.
The neighbor, Henry Boone, a man oi
middle years, watched the old man fol
a minute in silent pity, then walked
away.
The unique originality of Jerry Dun
cans character made him of peculiar
interest to his neighbors. His hopeful
industrious, independent nature com
handed their sincere respect, which ap
probation was practically evinced by
generous patronage of the milk which
was his sole dependence for a living
The queer application of his quain
PHILOSOPHERS to the problems Of III
was a source of much entertainment
lie would permit no person to pref'