St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1898-12-21
A CHRISTMAS BACKLOG.

Outside heavy storm that is turning
every undiscovered hillock into snowy
he'd making oil every rock soitlooking
pillow, and putting night-caps on the
fence. posts for a winter nights repose.
Inside. the hearth.stone couchant,
stretching his eight feet OF length before
the big. cracking fire which is roaring
heayenward through the immense Chin
pev bare room with blackened walls,
and a rude dresser in the corner, whence
BRIGHTLY secured pewter plates throw
back cheerful CLEANS from the fire, aided
by the one struggling light from the
bunch of wooden candle sticks nailed to
the rafters.
From the beams overhead are hung
strings OF dried apples and pumpkins,
while crooked-necked squashes keep COM
pany with the Revolutionary musket
over the mantel-piece.
A wooden settle on either side the hre-
Mace and a leathern-bottom chair hold
the group of which the central figure is
the master. A grim, stern. silent face,
crowned with shock Of white hair that
rises from the massive shoulders like one
of the eternal hills from the bleak, rocky
soil OF eccentric mold-one who loved
ANTIQUITIES for difficulties sake, as must
all initial settlers-Ralph Hartwelrs
Deculiarities had grown luxuriantly in
the sparse neighborhood until his will
became a terror to his household being
SO violent and forcible as to have lett his
wife none of her own, and his children
moody dissatisfaction with Lille and llv-
ing. 80.
The wife-a pretty, faded matron-sits
at the corner, handsome Belle Mayhem
beside her, cracking jokes and nuts from
the same dish with the gay young Dart
mouth school-master; Mary and Betsey
Hartwell are whispering together on the
opposite settle; and Hugh a handsome
but scowling-faced youngster,. sits at
the end of this same settle, fronting Belle
and the school-master.
The master spoke but once. 1t was
when the backlog unexpectedly burst in
two and shot a wealth of Goals halt way
across the kitchen floor. Mrs. Hartwell
FASTENED with her broom of spruce
boughs to sweep them back. and in the
confusion Hugh saw the school-masteI
lean across the dish OF nuts as II to steal
a kiss from Belle. His mother passed be-
tween Just then, and whether the kiss
was an accomplished fact he could not
tell jealousy said it was.
"Hugh, fetch in backlog" spoke ur
his father, in stentorian tones. Hurry
up, do you hear"
A flame OF red crosses the lads face as
he goes sullenly out the door which he /:
not again to enter for ten years.
Hell have to wait spell for his back
log" mutters the youth, with grim
humor, thinking Of the rod that has de
scended on his shoulders many times
since he has grown to the stature OF 9
man, and OF the pleasant words that hi
father has never spoken to him. 10 Of
ordered thus before Belle and the school
master Belle, whose beauty is torture
Just now to the jealous, passionate hear
OF her boy-lover, and who has flrtet
with the school-master all the evening.
What had he to return to? Nothing
but harsh words, for no matter wha
sort of backlog he fetched, his fathe
would find FAULT with it because 1T wa
not different one.
His bundle is all made up. He has Ions
thought OF running away; and he nov
climbs up through the loose boards o
the shed to his chamber.
With a piece of coal he writes on thu
pillow, Goodbye, mother; I'll COM
home when get rich,' and then he is OF
and away, while his father is raving owe
his hardness.
Hell come to the galus yet, tina
boy!" and going to the door, he shouts
"Come, hurry up, you lazy good-for
nothing" :.
Hugh hears him down the snowy dis
tance, but nothing answers the old maj
save the wind that impishly plucks a
his gray hair and sends chill down hi
back.
Hours slip away and ten o'clock come
"a late hour for those primitive times
The school-master's gay words are un
needed by the pretty troubled girl besid
him: the mother sits anxious and sad
listening for a step that cometh not; ant
the father, bolt upright, stern, silent ant
grim, thinks nobody knows wha
thoughts are in his heart.
Bye and bye the mother, who had bee
up to her sons room, creeps slowly dow
with the pillow-case in her hand an
spreads it silently before the group. Tn
father breaks into short laugh, which
however, has no humor in it.
"The TOOL has made his bed, and h
must Law in it." he says. and strides o
to bed. not until his wife has turned
for once in her lite.
1T was you that drove him ava
from home! But for you he would nevt
have left his mother"
"Are you crazy. woman, to speak iii
that to me ?" he roughly asks, but NEE
ing no response, he disappears from tt
kitchen.
The school master waits on" Bel
home to the Mayhews, where he
boarding, and Betsey and Mary cree
away to bed with the easily dried tea
of childhood on their cheeks; but t
mother sits all night by the fire-ligt
thinking, not of her own deirauded Ii
but her boys, sadly wondering where
could be that wintry night. Poor, fo'
ish boy! foolish to run from ills it W
his duty to have borne, to Others n
less cruel, and unblest by a mother
love. He missed her from the first, b
he inherited enough Of his fathers dc
ged obstinacy not to return, and he ne'
wrote line to his mother.
at is better Tor her to think I am pot
homeless, and iriendless than to kn'
it." he said to himself, at first; and
and by, when success seemed ready
grasp his hand, he thought, with q
humor, "I'll wait and carry father
backlog"
When Hugh had found a place
work, it was in a saw-mill. He took
first wages to buy piece OF timber la