The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1898-06-09
PRIEST WALWORTH'S PEOPLE

had a peculiar episode in its history.
As far as | know. this episode is not
to be found gazetteer, though its
claim to historic truth seems to be
fairly well established The town
was named for James Garfield, Great
ed Earl of Beresford, in England in
October. 1853, and was incorporated
June l, 1765. 1t then included the
adjacent town of Fairly, which filled
n very queer depression in the north,
ern boundary. Although Farley had
really been separate township for
several years. it was not incorporated
as such until February IA, 1885. The
aristocratic and high sounding name
of BeresfOrd seems somewhat at vari
ance with its rural character. Farm
Ing. numbering and the Dlaking of
maple sugar are the peaceful voca
tons of its people, and no greater
contrast can be imagined than be
tween this qnlet community and its
nelghbOr, South Jefferson, Just over
the barrier of the Pontoosuc range
1t would seem as If the great noun
tain wall, shorn of its peace on the
west, and forced to admit to its soil
tudes tumult of manufactures and
J the aggre5siveness of a growing city,
had resolved upon compensation.
| Therefore it's eastern face looks down
with almost prlmeval forests and un-
alloyed country living while the
Starfield river winds free and unfet
tered at its base
The authenticity of the following
tale rests upon tradition handed
down through the Blake family, and
L tell the story as it WAS told to me.
| Unquestioned WAS tha faith that shone
In the eyes of the revered and beloved
member of that family, as she drew
from the storehouse of her wonderful
memory, the facts upon which had
built my narrative. Some of the
"PIlest's' descendants have corrobo-
rated her testimony, and to my own
mind the foundation is sure.
The old Blake house stood upon a
hillside at the end of the village street,
its gambrel roof darkly shaded by
tall elms and spreading naples. The
trout yard was gay with prosperous
rosebushes, planted in little set clumps
among the thick grass, and blooming
in wonderful profnsion. Their prim
array of dark velvety crimson and
delicate damask and white, made a
pretty contrast to the careless sprays
Of cinnamon roses along the fence,
and the luXurlant sweet brier trained
above the faded green of the front
door. Peace and plenty seemed to
hover visibly about the quiet place
that morning in July, and the only
sounds to be heard were the far off
whatting of scythes in the bayfield,.
and the nearer ''ca daw cut of dill
gent hens in the barn yard.
Suddenly the white gate was flung
open, and up the sloping path came
the stalwart figure of young man.
His blue and white striped frock, an
old three cornered hat, seemed only
to heighten the bright beauty of his
face and natural grace of his move
ments. With OK whip in hand, and
with an evident certainty of welcome,
he entered the open doorway and
looked about him. On the right of
the small entry another open door
showed cheerful vista of the living
room, and great sunny kitchen beyond.
and in high backed chair by the
window sat an elderly woman, shell
ing peas. A frilled cap covered her
hair, and white muslin handkerchief
was pinned across her breast, while
her dress was further concealed by q
blue homespun apron. She looked at
the newcomer in surprise
For the lands sake, John, what's
amiss? You come like stroke of
hghtnin."
"Oh, Aunt Rhodal" cried John,
with an unmistaka5le trouble in his
voice; aud then, to Madam Blake's
utter surprise and CONSERVATION, he
threw himself down upon the broad
window seat beside her, while his
frank, brown eyes filled with tears
which he valnly tried to conceal.
There, there, John. don't" said her
kind voice, and the motherly hand
stroked his curly hair; what have
they done to my boy now? There.
therer
so, I'm ashamed of myself" strug
| gled John, between the sobs which he
was striving hard TO restrain; hs
| just the same old story" Here he sat
erect with flashing eyes, and taking
| her comfortable hand, as if it were
| Kind of sheet anchor, went on, "'Tis
because | am like my father, l sup
pose, that ii hurts me So Eighteen
years has he preached to this people,
| I hot I,., j
only his duty And now. when he has
served them SO long, and is growing
old, they're plottingito get rid of him"
Bat they can't John, if they plot
till doomsday He was settled for
life, and the farm is his as long rs he
| lives"
That's what he alway says" an
swered the young man, 'you know
his Independent ways, and no matter
What they do or say, he won't believe
there is any danger"
Danger, John, how can there be
danger? They cannot alter the sta
tutes of the state. The trouble is.
they all feel sore over his going to
law about that six years salary that
they couldn't, or didn't pay before the
Wax WAS over. Your father needed it.
with his large family, and I'm sure
hope he'll get it; but times are hard,
and he never could see Just how it is
with the poorer farmers. He's my
hOnored relative. but this is a free
country now, and we must haye nc
more kings and subjects. Still. no
body can harm him, John, and they're
proud of him, after ALL"
Il wish | could be sure of that,
Aunt Rhoda. but l heard strange
thilgs. Just now, coming down the
hill by Dea Thaxter's barn, l stopped
to water the oxen at the old log
trough, and as l stood there, | heard
Amos Pingree say, in his high pitch