Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1898-11-21
AT THE SIGN OF THE BIG
PUMPKIN.

which led from the lower pasture, up
through the cornfield, to the house.
They were walking slowly and talk
ing. Tom was sixteen years old-a
slim, light haired boy, with an utter
esting face. Josie was two years
younger, and being much like Tom,
and a girl, was of course pre- tty. 1t
was Tom who was talking. l am 60
ing away he was saying, and am go
ing to be extinguished. [ am not
going to stay on farm all my life. |
can draw letters now as good as those
on some of these signs in town, and
am going to be an artist and extin-
guished.
The two had by this time entered
the cornfieId. 1t was autumn and the
corn stalks had all been cut away,
leaving scores of great, yellow pump
kins that, in places, seemed to lie SO
thickly that one could hardly pass be-
tween them. A little later they would
be gathered and shipped to New York
city, some so miles away. The Math-
ews place was famous for its big
pumpkins, and the amount received
each year for this crop was no small
addition to the income of the little
Connecticut farm.
Sometimes during corn cutting Tom
had amused himself by scratching
sentences on the big yellow rinds with
his thumb nail, giving play to his i'm
agination and talent for lettering, be-
sides feeling that these words would
soon go to the great city and be read
by people there VINO really were
part of its hustle, and who saw every
day the wonderful sights of which he
had only read and dreamed. These
letters, etched lightly on the ripening
pumpkins, hardened over with white
crust in few days, and became very
distinct and easily read. On one he
had inscribed, What do you think of
me? on another, This is my first visit,
and so on. Finally, the desire to be-
hold for himself the sights of New
York, and to seek his fortune like
Dick Wilmington, and others of whom
he had read, had become resolve.
He had revolved his plan over in his
mind until it seemed perfect, and
fame and fortune already within his
grasp. He had spoken of it to Josie
now forkthe first time, and charged
her to say nothing as yet to her moth
er, who was widow, and who, with
the help of Tom and the hired man,
ran the place.
Josie felt the weight of the secret,
but she believed. in her brother. She
leaned her elbows now on one side of
the big pumpkins half as tall as her
self, resting her chin on her hands
thoughtfully. Tom, meantime, was
laboring on something on the other
side.
It's good time to go. he was say
ing to her. The fall work will soon
be done, and by spring I will be max
ing enough to pay for the extra help
mother will need, and I will send you
nice dresses and presents, and every
thing, like those fine New York ladies
wear.
Josie's eyes frightened, and then
grew dreamy. She wished almost
that she might go with Tom. How
nice it was to be boy. Then she
walked around to see what it was that
Tom was doing so industriously.
With a final flourish at the end he
arose, and the brother and sister,
standing side by side in the October
al farnoon rr-i1l ho
tinguished.
Tom landed in New York about the
middle of October.
I am quite sure there were tears in
his eyes, however, when he at last
said good bye to his mother and sis
ter, and Josie, 1 know, wept bitterly,
though perhaps her grief was not al
together hopeless as she remembered
the silk dresses that Tom was to send.
Mrs. Mathews kissed him tenderly,
though she said but little-she had
grown accustomed to parting.
Toms first day or two in the city
were spent in looking about. AS
matter of fact he did get lost a good |
many times, as Josie had prophesied,
and would probably never have reach
ed his boarding house the first day at
all, without the aid of numerous po-
iicemen.
The address of this boarding house |
had been given him by a neighbor
who had once visited the city, and |
Tom found by counting the money,
and making mental calculation, that |
he had barely enough to keep him |
there three weeks. He must there |