The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1897-01-06
SELECTED STORY.
Mrs. Buckler's Sweet Apples.
BY CHARLES G. d. ROBERTS.


Autumn was just beginning to reveal
herself in the heart of South Mountain
the gorgeous autumn of western
Nova Scotia. 1t was about eight
o'clock in the morning, and the air
that streamed lightly over the shoulders
OF the hills had a most bracing SAVIOR.
Mrs. BuckleI, a freckled but comey
and tall young woman, was just setting
out for twelve-mile tramp to the little
settlement in the Valley, where she had
TO return flatiron and pair of wool
cards which she had borrowed of an
obliging neighbor.
Neghbors, in those days, were few
and far between in the country districts
of Nova Scotia. The great emptiness
created by the expulsion of the AGA
dams had not yet been filed up. For
the neighbors, it beehooved them to
be Deighborly.
Mrs. Buckler was an untiring worker,
and her rare visits to the Valley consti.
tuted her only holiday. She had to
walk, of course, as her husband had no
horse, and she had no ambition to ride
one of the faithful but deliberate oxen.
And indeed, a matter of twelve miles
seemed nothing of consequence to her.
"Be sure and get back before dark,
'Miryp' admonished her husband, lean
ing meditatively against the woodple
as he watched her kiss the children for
good-by.
"Shoohl Steve, reckon you can put
the babies to bed all right for once,
can't you? 1t amt often get off, and
when | do, like to make a good day
of itl''
cit amt lookin' after the children
that Pm thinking of 'Miry, as you know
right WE'LL" replied Steve Buckler,
earnestly. "But you know how thick
the bears are on the mountain this year;
and there's no manner of doubt that
was wolf brushed by me in the pas
ture night before last. 1t amt safe for
you to be coming up through the woods
after dark all alone that way. Stay all
night, if you find it getting later'
ooh! l amt afraid" averred Mrs.
Buckler, stoutly. 81 may get back
afore dark; but if l don't, III be care
full and carry light with mel"
These confident words she flung back
over her shoulder, as she started gayly
down the rough woodland way.
Arriving in due time at the settle
ment in the Valley, she did her errands,
picked up the news, and richly enjoyed
the rare luxury of gossip. Time went
all too quickly; and it was on the edge
of dark ere she thought of starting for
home. Then, of course, there were We
hement protests. Her friends urged
her to stay all night, picturing the
perils of the journey, and representing
that her husband would never dream of
expecting her. But Mrs. Buckler, as
her friends always said, was very "set."
Putting aside all arguments, she started
out on her long and lonely tramp
She had little to carry, but that little
was somewhat troublesome to manage.
1t was an apronful of sweet apples for
the children, treat which she knew
they would enjoy. Sweet apples were
then rarity in South Mountain.
When at length Mrs. Bucker reached
the last house on the edge of the Val
ley, and found herself face to face with
the long climb up the mountain, she
felt compelled to acknowledge in her
heart that the night was very dark.
And she had yet nearly four miles to
go, through almost unbroken woods.
In those four miles there were but two
cabins TO break the monotony of the
way; and the further of these was
mile and half from her home. She
hesitated moment, then went into the
house, and asked for q pine-knot to
light her on her journey.
Here again she was urged to stay;
but lighting her torch she set her face
resolutely TO the mountain side. AS
she penetrated among the ancient trees
the unsteady light of the pne-knot
cast strangely moving shadows, and
monstrous shapes seemed TO spring up
and disappear on all sides. For the
first time she grew nervous, and felt
an inclination TO glance over her Shout
der. This she presently conquered,
with some scorn. Nevertheless, she
could not help Fastening her steps;
and the first cabin in the mountain had
the air of refuge to her, as she turned
In TO get fresh pine-knot.
Here, too, she was strongly pressed
TO end her journey for the night. But
now her obstinacy was well aroused.
She was nettled at herself for having
felt afraid. 1t was with somet hing of
the air of one who goes forth to battle
that she gripped her torch and clutched
her apron of sweet apples, as she
turned again to the blackness of the
forest path.
To ward off unpleasant thoughts, she
kept picturing in her mind The way the
children would enjoy the apples in the
morning. She also thought of the re-
monstrances, tempered with ill-con-
cealed admiration, with which her hus-
band would greet her return. Her
blood quite glowed again as she thought
of the lofty fashion in which she would
make light of it all. Just at this mo-
ment she saw, in the middle of the path
before her, large black bear, watch
ing her curiously.
Her heart stood still, and she her,
self instantly followed this example.