The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1897-07-24

HkARNXHaHwA blUu, Odu uohOO hio
NEEZN1 father.
sasNzsSs&ssa "This afternoon?" asked
n the 12 boy. It, mild. If it
should freeze up tonight,
as looks likely, it would not be good
weather to ship potatoes"
Sam frowned impatiently.
81 wanted to go with the boys for
a good skate. The pondisn't broken
up yet, but it may be any day. Per-
haps this will be the last skating OF
the season"
won't the evening do for skat-
ing"
swell, l suppose So" said Sam
slowly.
"You can easily be back in time for
that, and not have to drive the horses
too fast, either. Now then-for a
quick start"
Sam helped his best at getting up
the load, inwardly resolving that he
would return in time for his evenings
frolic, even though it might be little
at the expense of the horses.
The roads, however, were heavier
than he expected to find them. Some
recent rains and mild days had
brought a suspicion of spring in
most respects most delightful. The
softness of the air, the clipper of the
earliest birds and the suggestion of
buds on the trees, all had their inter-
est for a country boy.
But he was obliged to realize that
he was not getting along as fast as he
had counted on. The steadily jog
cling horses seemed to have their
own opinion of just how much ground
they ought reasonably to be expect
ed to cover, and all Sans urging be-
yond that was of little avail. Making
at length turn towards stream he
was to cross, his attention was at once
drawn to the ice floating upon it.
81 didn't know the ice was broken
up. My There's lot of it."
The grinding and crushing of the
huge cakes became louder and loud
er as he drew nearer. The swift
current bore them rapidly down
and hurled them against the piers of
the bridge he was to cross. AS one
after another of the glistening chunks
reached the obstruction, they crowd
ed on, heaping over each other,
forced upwards, to fall heavily to one
side or the other.
The horses were permitted to take
their own gait as Sam watched the
ice.
"Hol What's that7"
Coming very near the bridge he
saw placard nailed to one side. 1t
read
No crossing here. Bridge unsafe.
A couple of pieces of scantling lay
at the entrance of the bridge as if
placed for a barricade and then re-
moved by some one. Sam gazed at
the bridge in great discontinue.
"Well-I like that No crossing.
It's three miles down to the other
bridge. If l drive down there l
shan't get home before bedtime
With face of disgust he critically
scanned the bridge. Il don't be.
lieye there's any danger. l believe l
could cross. Somebody's crossed,
by the looks, since they put up that
notice. Six miles round. l do be-
lieve I'll try it."
Urging his horses to the bridge he
stopped and took closer survey of
the situation. With every assault Of
the ice cakes the structure quivered
as if in pain and fear. The grinding
and groaning filed hise ears. He did
not at all like the looks of things.
"You know l always depend on
you to use wise judgment in matters
which cannot forsee," his father had
said to him. Very we'll Sam knew
that faithful attention to duty for.
bad his taking any chances of risk.
And Yet-that six miles around, and
his evenings amusement.
"I'll go on" he said to himself.
Amid the roar and the grind he