Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1900-12-28

A JACK OF TWELVE TRADES.


skirts of their gowns; happy children
skipping and dancing, now and then
one of the latter being held up by a
kind papa for a sight of Our Lady of
the Harbor, standing just across on
her island.
A boy approached, carrying a wood
en- box. He lifted the cover. There
was a rustling of wings, and two
pigeons fluttered out, wheeling about
as they rose and then setting off in
swift fight, while below the pic
turesque signorinas, the young Ameri-
can citizenesses, the happy little chill
dren and all the other people as well
gazed upward, motionless with inter-
est
An old man sat on the bench beside
me. He was an interesting little fig
ure, with snow white hair and beard,
clear blue eyes and a fresh color in
his cheeks. Our mutual witnessing
of the pretty incident just mentioned
caused us to drift into conversation,
and presently we had wandered from
the subjects of carrier pigeons and
the beautiful May weather to that of
the marvellous structure upon which
we found ourselves. the old man ex-
planning its construction with such
| mdIhtu lultllib6nCS anu AdlullldIlly
that asked If he built bridges.
Il have helped build them" he an
swered, land once made a model for
an especially good kind, but some one
| got ahead Of me with a similar one,
and mine was put aside"
He sat musing for little, and then
told me that he had been that after
noon to visit his daughters grave;
that the pansies growing on 1t we're
in bloom and that the rose tree bud
ded; that the grave had no head
stone, as he had never felt able to
buy one: that there had been two
daughters, Faith and Hope by name,
born on a Christmas day. and that
| when they were seventeen Hope had
| died, this being some twenty years
ago. While we were talking Our
Lady of the Harbor had enveloped
| herself in a veil of tender hue. and
| golden light transformed the walls
of the towers of Babel on the New
York side into a vision of enchanted
castles and palaces. The time of the
| sunset was drawing near. We rose
to watch it pass, as one rises in
church for the professional. When
it was over l said goodby to the little
old man and left him sitting there.
Early in the following October |
was returning from an exhibition of
| pictures of heroes held in the chill
drens room of one of the Brooklyn
Libraries, and, curiously enough, half
way over the bridge came upon the
same little old man resting in the
very spot where we had parted the
May before. After we had inquired
regarding one another's welfare, and
| 10 hah told mo how tho nnUQFC
looking in Hopes narrow garden. l
spoke of the exhibition | had Just
seen.
What were the pictures?" he
asked. Photographs"
"They were everything" | an
swered: photographs and engravings
and prints from magazines"
Were there any Old Testament
characters among them, as for in
stance Daniel?"
Moses was there and David;
didn't see Daniel. Perhaps II wasn't
easy to procure one OF him"
Il could have furnished one" said
the little old man. 81 once assisted
in illustrating popular edition of the
Bible. 1 made a Daniel and an
Elijah and a Joseph and an Abraham
and an infant Samuel and an imagin-
airy person designed to explain a law
in Deuteronomy. | am a wood en-
graver by profession"
Are you. indeed? l have been
thinking you as builder of bridges;
don't you remember you told me
about your model for one of an es-
pecially good kind"
81 have followed a diversity of oc-
equations" the old man answered;
there always seemed to be just so
much of one thing for me to do. and
then somebody took it from me at the
very moment when / particularly de-
sired to continue. | call myself a
jack of twelve trades and master of
none"
Thereupon he proceeded to emu
merate his various pursuits. In add
ton to bridge building and wood en-
craving he had been the first painter
of circus posters, having studied the
animals from one of those in the Van
Amberg show; he had also been a
portrait painter, bookbinder. tele-
grapher, a photographer, a cabinet
maker, a gardener, and he had taught
school, owned real estate and studied
navigation. l asked IL l might not
visit him some day and see the Old
Testament pictures.
Come now" he said. There is
no time like the present. Mother
will be delighted. and Faith, too, If
she is at home"
We reached the end of the bridge,
crossed Broadway, took the Sixth-ave.
elevated railroad, left it at Eighth-st.,
and turning the corner at Jefferson
Market, came into that half hidden
quarter once known by the name of
Greenwich Village, where the streets
still keep the rambling character of
the ancestral lanes from which they
sprung, and where Minetta Brook is
reported to be ripping below the
ground as she once went ripping
above in the sunshine.
Two children stopped their play on
the sidewalk to speak to the little old
man, one of them bringing her kit
ten to show him. and a dog with an
overjoyed-to-see-you air bounded out
from a shop and trotted along by his
side. We descended some steps
leading to the basement entrance of
one of the smaller houses and my
companion opened the door. AS
we STEPPED into the long narrow hall
a woman appeared from the front
room.
"Is that you. Daddy, dear?" she
asked.
The old man introduced her as the
best wife in the world, and we went |