New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1903-08-09
Bob's "Peocb Pluck"
By MARY GIBSON.

Barbara Ellsworth Wilson, commonly known as
Bob, sat the edge of the kitchen table and
stirred the big kettle of peach butter ndustriously
She was nine years old, but small for her age and
when big Sister Nell left. she had put Bob on the
table saying:
You sit there and stir, Bob so YOU reach
easily and by the time I've dressed mother it will
be almost done. ana YOU shall have some re-
ward
So Bob pushed the long handled stirrer back and
forth diligently scrapng the bottom lest the but
ter stick. She loved watch the little spurts of
thick butter fly through the top holes of the stick,
and to push it back and forth. making patterns in
the mess but best of all she loved a slice of bread
spread thckly with the still smoking butter. The
stirrer had belonged TO her mothers mother, and
Bob often put her close it it hung by the
fire, for it seemed to her that odors of long eaten
jams and buffers clurg it.
She glanced anNiously the butter, and then
called Nell softly, for her mother must not be
startled. But Nell did not come, and Bob stirred
faster the butter darkencG and thickened and
the little Jumps of richness flew up. sometimes
even over the stove in spite OF her care.
Darker grew the jam, and Bob knew that many
more minutes would thicken it beyond her control
and the bottom portion would stick. She looked
out of the door To see If any of the darkies were
near but they never We're when they wanted
and then she remembered that every one was busy
in the peach orchard. fruit was rpening
fast. Suddenly she caught her breath with gasp
OF terror she saw the figure a man move
among the bushes the house
Peach pluck she thought and her teeth
together to keep from screaming for Nell
Two years before she had gone down to get the
mail from the box at the the long road, and
too busy to notice anything else. she had turned
10 find herself surrounded by FIVE Of the rough
class OF men who wandered from farm to farm in
the peach season, plucking the fruit the farm
ers, thereby earning the of peach plucks"
They had done her harm. but they had leased
her, one of them putting his finger in his mouth
then touching her OF red curls to see if they
would sizz."
She had broken from them and rushed for home
too frightened make sound and from that
time had dreaded the peach season Now she
looked from kettle the door. Nell would not
come. and in another minute it would be too late
Bob turned desperately to the door. and bcckoned
Come here she called the man.
He looked toward her, hcsitatcd. then turned
away.
Man! Come here" she called frantically.
Quick"
The appeared the door. his cap in his
hand Did you call, little girc" he asked quietly
Boh's heart gave throb OF relief He could not
be peach pluck.
"Yes-the butter-take it Off" she ordered, stir
stirring.
The man glanced at the kettle took the srrer
from her. and carried il the sink turned swiftly
and snatChed Wadded holder from the wall be
side the stove lifted the huge brass kettle and
carried il the table. where he stood
his work he turned TO the stove more. changed
the draughts and put coal the fire. Bob watched
him too dumfounded. at first, to move.
There, 1t will be ready 10 get the dinner he