The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1900-06-15
TOM HUNT
BY David II. Talmadge.

THE weather smiled cordially upon
the Big Woods district, of which
Lawtonville was the center, until the
first of February; then it frowned
and snapped.
Tom Hunt, who was of some distinc-
ton in the village as it's only chronic
invalid, and affected in some degree
by insomnia, reported that the wind
Topped from the south to the north
west shortly after midnight, and that
less than two hours later he heard
distinctly the chug of the mercury as
it struck bottom. Which, there being
no conflicting testimony, must be &C.
copied as statement of fact.
1t is known positively by the CON-
munity in general, by which is meant
everyone but Peter Cuppley, who has
become impervious to atmospheric in
tluences through the patient applica-
ton of alcoholic waters to his inside.
that at daylight the wind was calling
bitterly and the air was full Of dust
colored particles that stung like min
iature whips. Furthermore, the town
pump was frozen, and there were
icicles upon the beard of Benjamin
Rood, the village patriarch, when he
arose from his bed. His daughter so
informed neighbor when they were
walking home from the funeral that
morning.
All, it was cutting, biting cold!
Tom Hunt, who, despite his respon-
sibilities as chronic invalid, also as
sumed the office of the town wit, and
therein preached a daily sermon upon
the saving grace of a sense of humor.
said it was the coolest weather since
witnessed his good father milk the
family COW without pail. There was
really no occasion to use a pail, he
said, for the streams of milk con-
gealed instantly, and it was only nee
essary, when the animals dairy had
been emptied, to gather up the long,
slender milk-needles into his arms and
carry them into the house.
a very pleasant liar was Tom Hunt,
and much was he loved by the towns
people, for he was an unfailing source
of comfort in times of trouble and
illness. No disease was there in the
catalogue of human ailments from
which he had not at some time suf-
tered; no misfortune in all the long
list of such things with which he had
not had his tussle and issued forth
triumphant. And it rebounds to the
everlasting credit of Lawtonville peo-
pie that they overlooked, as a rule,
the inconsistencies of his statements
and accepted him as the blessing he
wished to be. 1t was his way, that
was all. There are too few-far too
few-such liars as Tom Hunt in the
world.
On the list of February he arose
from his couch and kindled the fires.
The house was warm before his moth
er-many years a widow-appeared
to prepare the morning meal. Tom
was sitting by the window reading a
letter. He put the letter into his
pocket when the old lady entered the
room and greeted her in his Gus
tomary good-natured way:
''Mornin', mother. Sleep good?'
"Pretty good. Thomas, thank you.
Colder, amt it?''
"a little" replied Tom, with a sig
nificant look at the frost-coated win
dow. Il reckon if twas much colder
every thermometer in, town'd be
bursted. 1t stand near to 30 below
zero, and there's right smart wind
blowin'"
"Br-r-r-r!" shivered the old lady.
wrapping shawl about her shout
ders. "'Tain't very good day for
the funeral, is it,"
Toms face, which had been beam
ing with smiles. sobered instantly,
and his hand jerked involuntarily to-
ward the pocket where the letter was.
mo, it amt, and that's the truth, -
he said, seriously. ''But then, you
Know" he added, frightening, "peo.
pie don't expect no great. pleasure
from funerals anyhow" ~ y
Mrs. Hunt sighed. :
After a time, when the coffee was
ready and she and Tom were facing
each other across the small table, she
intercepted his hand as he was-reach.
ing for the sugar and held it for 8
moment lovingly.
you're q good boy, Thomas she
sand. la
I'm glad you think so, mother. y
s'pose ] might be worse