The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1896-09-23

~ Nav. lie was comm on the 4: ~,
but he was killed by a crazy-drunk
miner fore he left tn camp. Them
was in the days when the Mary Morris
mine was bein' worked over to Whites
vile, an Jim he'd made quite lump
out'n it. She's ben meetin' tn 4: 10
ever sence. 1t upset her mind, reckon,
fur she allus thinks he'll come on tn
next train"
The pitiful, squalid story was told
duly, and without emotion. Phoebe
Reeves and her neighbors had seen
that frail form, in its streaked and
washed.out blue dress, hurrying to the
station for so many years, that it was
no longer matter of interest or con-
Germ to them, and if it had been, the
life and spirit had been so crushed out
of them by the weary monotony of
their colorless lives, that they were
almost incapable of feeling any lively
emotion.
AS he sat in front of the store in the
cool of the evening, chatting Familiarity
with the villagers assembled to catch a
glimpse of the stranger" he won
dered in his heart how they managed
to exist at all.
The women before him were gaunt,
faded and listless, women before they
were out of girlhood, old and worn in
the best years of life; the men with
out energy or ambition, or any appar-
| ent desire to better themselves.
Yet, in their way, they enjoyed their
life, knowing no other. Their one de-
sire, their one topic of conversation,
was boom. They clustered around
Henry Foster tonight, talking of it in
lazy, drawing tones, and asking innu-
merable questions, which he, with his
lawyer instincts sharpened, answered
rapidly.
From my experience, gentlemen, 1
should say that a regular swift boom is
the last thing that your town would
need. Too much boom is bad thing,
for it is only in few cases that it
keeps its promises. What you do need
is capital, of course, to start with, then
irrigation, plenty of hard work applied
in the right place, and little patience,
and stick-to-it-iveness. Be satisfied
with a village or town, and the city
will come later"
6 stranger" remarked lean, toll
hardened man, "you talk sense. It's
my b'lef that we've got so dog-gone
shifless squattin' here on this piece of
land that we wouldn't stoop down to
pick up boom eff we see it layin' in the
road. Eff We say work, an somethin'
tibet Teller kin lay hold on an do, l
reckon Pm with ye every time, but eff
we say boom, tibet ye've got ter chase
like lightnin' bug, an then not ketch,
like as not, why count Abe Speers
out'n tn deal, thet's ALL"
So saying, the village oracle slowly
arose and took his departure. Look
ing after him, Foster said to him
self:
"Mr. Speers, you are a man of sense
and discrimination. With you here, /
perceive that the case of the town
OF L. is not so hopeless as l had
thought"
Mr.. Foster was not averse to little
speculation, and he was interested.
Before he went to bed that night he
wrote a long letter to capitalist
friend in the East, but the letter upon
which he spent the greater time was to
pretty brown.eyed girl, who was
even then counting the days until his
return. The brown-eyed girl cried a
little when she received it, for among
other things it told her, in all its homely
pathos, the story of Lib, and the 4:19
express.
n
On the day following, Foster joined
his new acquaintance in their one
small excitement, waiting for the
trains.
At the morning train only a few
| men lOunged about in front of the
shanty, digniied by the name of sta
ton, with their hands deep in their
pockets and expectorating generously
as they talked with the breezy young
stranger from the East. AT the 4.19,
the woman whom they called Lib
came and waited with the rest. She
recognized Foster and gave him a timid
smile.
Henry Foster was pre-eminently keen
lawyer and student of human nature,
but he was also man of quick sympa-
thies, taking kindly interest, in his
quiet way, in all that was hurt or I'M
fortunate.
He responded to the smile by raising
his hat as courteously as he would have
done to the brown. eyed girl, to the
open. eyed establishment of the men
uiOuhu ulll, anu OfSA l4lU, HtIbcll
When he stepped TO her side to say a
few pleasant words, pleased flush
tinged her thin cheeks, and he saw
that she had once been quite pretty
though now sadly faded and worn.
She took off the cheap blue sunbon-
net, swinging it lightly by the strings
as she had no doubt done in those girl
hood days where her mind still fingered
"I'm waitin' fur Jim," she ex
| planned, simply, without waiting fol
Foster to speak "It's our weddin
: day. He's comm on tn A: 10, an
, we're to be married at sundown."
: She seemed so innocently pleased
} looking up at him in almost girlish shy
/ ness from out of her faded eyes, tina
, Foster had not the heart to answer her
, Even so, she gave him no opportunity
but held out the sunbonnet for his in
, spection.
Z" It's rale pritty, amt it? Jim allu
/ likes me best in pale blue, and | kinde
| - - j..I H. 10