The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1904-09-29

kS dOnL 'SpecC TO be bout 60
in out. was born on way back farm
in Connecticut, where the rocks was so
thick we used ter round the sheep up
once week an sharpen thar noses on
the grin'stun so t they could get 'em
tween the stuns. I walked a mile to
school winters an stubbed my toes on
the farm summers till I was fourteen,
an then the old man greed to give me
my time till I was twenty-one if 'ud
pay him half I earned. I had colt an
old busted wagon, an I took to dicker-
in I bought eggs an honey an pelts
of all sorts, an peddled notions an
farmin' tools. When I cum of age I
went to the city an turned trader an
made little money, got married an
cum down into Maine an bought a
gold mine. I've got it yit-that is, I've
got the hole whar s'posed the mine
was. Most O. my money went into it
an stayed thar. Then I got a chance
to tend light an ketch Holsters an hev
stuck to it ever since. take some
comfort livin', an try an pass it along.
The Wilder Leach calls me q scoffer,
but she allus comes to me when she's
needin', an don't allus have to cum Ell
Their. My life's been like most every
body else'S, a streak O. lean an a
streak o. fat, with lean predominatin'.
Twas a streak O. fat when I found a
good woman an she said 'yes,' an a
streak O. lean when I was bamboozled
by lawyer into buyin' a gold nine
I've KEEP that hole. ever since an paid
taxes ont to prove to myself jest how
big fool man can be an live
"1've never wronged nobody nor done
much prayin, an when the Almighty
calls me think I'll stand jest as good
a chance O. gittin' harp as those
whose done more ont. The worst
skinnin' I ever got was done by this
ere lawyer, who never sot down to
meals 'thout askin' blessin', an meb-
be that's the reason I'm a scoffer I've
observed a good deal since left the
old farm, an have come to the belief
that thar's sucker born every mint
and two ter ketch him. When 1 was
young took hold o. the big end O. the
log an did the liftin', but now I take
hold O. the little end an do the grunt-
in. Thar's one thing I've larned, an
larned it for sartin, an that is thar's
few people in this world that cut a
ham in the middle. Most on 'em cut
few slices an cut em thin
Among the Southport islanders Un-
Gle Terry was considered an odd stick,
and yet one who would go out of his
way to do good turn to others. He
was seldom seen at church, though his
wife and Telly usually were. AS he
once remarked: "It's good thing for
'em, cause it takes up thar mind an
is more sociable, though prayin' allus
seems to me good deal like man
tryin' to lift himself by his boot straps
1t keeps him busy, though, an it's
healthy exercise"
In spite of his investment in a mine
he had been frugal and owned most
of the land between the village and
the point and was also joint owner,
with two other men, in a small trad
ing schooner that made semimonthly
trips between the Cape and Boston.
She carried fish, clans, Holsters, hay
and potatoes and fetched an ''all Sorts
cargo useful to the islanders, from a
paper Of needles to hogshead of mo-
lasses.
The most pronounced characteristic
Of Uncle Terry was his unfailing good
humOr, tinged with a mild sarcasm.
He loved his fellow men and yet en-
joyed puncturing their small conceits,
but so droll was his way of doing it
that no one felt the sting. To Bascom,
who kept the only store and also post
Office at the Cape and dearly loved to
hear himself talk, Uncle Terry once
said: you've got the greatest gift O.
CAB I ever heerd, Bascom, an you
could "a made your forth in the show
business. But if you're ever took with
religion the hull island I'll turn infid-
de-
And, again, when Deacon Oaks, the
leader at all prayer meetings, assured
him how great blessing religion was
and how much he enjoyed divine serv-
ice, Uncle Terry answered: "Your TAX
in the lead at meetin's is blessin' to
the rest, for none of 'em has to worry
bout who's goin' to speak next. They
know you're allus ready"
In this connection it must be stated
that the spiritual life of Southport was
Of primitive description. The small
implanted church at the Cape, above
which hung diminutive bell, was the
only place of worship, and to this every
other Sunday came minister from the
mainland. It was furnished with long
wooden settees and a small cottage or
gan graced the platform, upon which
an antique desk did duty as pulpit and
a storage place for hymn books. Four
wall bracket lamps lighted this room
for evening service, and their usually
smoky chimneys lent depressing ef-
feet to all exhortation. Mandy Oaks
presided at the organ and turned Cos
pei hymns into wheezy and rather long
drawn out melodies. Most of the audi