The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1901-10-18

this minute! And he such a boy, and
me such a drag on him. and forgetting
such an easy thing as that! I'll get
my mouth fixed for it when he comes
back. Sam, I'll say to him. Sam, I'm
glad to see you back Sam; and Sam,
I've had a nice morning under the
trees, Sam / reckon the oftener /
say It for a spell, the easier it'll come
I'll practice It off and on the rest e.
the morning to keep my hand in" sal
Uncle Hiram. wisely.
Sammys thoughts, as he hurried
down the road that led to the Lapham
house, were not very comforting.
I'm nothing but what the children
call a fraid cat; that's all ami" he
said, bitterly. ANY other boy would
speak up to the judge and make him
remember, and perhaps get q chance.
Uncle Hiram minds, too. He's hardly
talked about the old war-times, when
he was a drummer-boy and got has
wounds, once, for the last week. He'd
rather be in an attic in Boston and
know | was working my way up thar
to stay here in Moorby; there's nobo Iy
here he cares enough about to make
him want to stay. And might earn
money enough to buy him a wheeled
chair before long While mother livet
I couldn't go, but now l could"
Mrs. Lapham's house faced the south
and as Sammy entered the yard ~
looked for Mrs. Laphams smile at tn :
window of the room where all her
days were spent.
She had been bedridden for ten
years; the old sitting-room of her early
married life had been changed to her
bedroom, and every morning before
Mr.. Lapham started for his Harness
and Shoe Shop" he dragged the bed
close to the window All passers-by
were used to the sight of Mrs. Lap
hams pale face propped into view by
many pillows, and her thimble tapped
many summons to enter on the low
est right-hand pane.
There was no face at the window
that morning, although, as Sammy
drew close to the house, he could see
that the bed was in its usual place.
AS he stood a moment irresolutely at
the turn where the path branched of,
toward the woodshed, man hailed
him from passing cart, saying:
"Hullo, Sammy! How's business with
you these days%
Fair" returned the boy, soberly
adding under his breath, 81 wish peo
pie wouldn't call me Sammy! It;
such baby name!"
There came a tap at the window as
the cart ratified out of sight, and Sam
my turned quickly to see Mrs. Lap
hams face, white and drawn, at tI.t
pane.
why, she looked as if she was cry
ing!" said the boy to himself, startlnr
out of thoughts about his own troubles
as he entered the house.
Sammy" she cried, in a high
strained voice "The men are at worl
in the judges meadow, and he's Their
with 'em! They're going to cut dow
all my willows and my old apple-trsc
Sammy! John Roberts is there W.T.
'em, experimenting under the judge
tapped him in this morning just afte
Mr. Lapham had gone. and he told me
Why Sammy, it seems as if thos
trees belonged to me! My view'I Il
ali spoiled, and it's everything l hay
to look at, that meadow is, Sammy
"Yes'm, l know" said the boy wit
quick sympathy. 81 suppose he think
the meadow'll be better will out tn
willows, and that the apple-tree doesn
bear much of any fruit. He doesn
realize about you, Mrs. Laphan', tn
judge doesn't; l don't believe he eve
knows about you. You see he's onl
here in the summer, and ne doesn
see much of us village people" adde
Sammy, gently. Its an awful pit
Mrs Lapham."
IF he knew" said the invalid, crust
ing her handkerchief between h
clasped hands, 'if he knew, do y.
suppose he'd leave the apple-tre
Sammy Look! Here's where I 81
the buds on that long branch frs
and then the blossoms come, all wifi
and pink, and then the apples. Al
the branches are lovely even VIII
they're bare; and you know Row Thu
shine in the snow and ice. I've show
you so often. The road is so narroy
how can the Judge help knowing abo
me, Sammy? And the willows shil
so in the sun after a rainl shall
gone before they could grow hll
enough for me to see them again."
, Sammy's face flushed curious r