Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1905-10-19
By IRVING BACHELLER
+ X,
|%3HE love Of labor was counted O
great virtue there in Far

never put my heart in n hoe
handle orin any like tool of toll. They
made a blister upon my spirit al well
q upon my hands. tried to find In
the sweat of my brow that exalted
pleasure Of which Mr.. Greeley had VI
1ions in his comfortable retreat on
Printing House square. But fortunate.
" ! had not his point Of view.
Heugipg in ny. library. where I may
pee 1t 'asN write, IL the old sickle of
Vnole Eb. The bard hickory of its
bandle 10 worn thin by the grip of his
band. 1t Becomes a melancholy sym.
Dol when I remember how also the
hickory had worn him thin and bent
him low and how infinitely better than
ell the harvesting Of the sickle was the
strength Of that man, diminishing as It
tvore the wood. l cannot help smiling
when l look at the sickle and think OF
The soft bands and tender amplitude OF
Dir. Greeley.
The great editor had been a playmate
Of David Brewer when they were boys,
end his paper was read with much rev
DrenCe in our home.
A1OW IuAtA ve Cdu IToW d ttu dtTt
lot with a PEN Uncle Eb used TO say
when we had gone up to bed after
Father had been reading aloud from his
Tribune.
Such was the power Of the press in
ehat country one had but to say of any
doubtful thing. Seen 1t in print" to
stop all argument. If there were any
Further doubt he had only to say tlnt
be had read 1t either in the Tribune OF
khe Bible and couldn't remember
which. Then 1t was n mere question
bf veracity in the speaker. Books and
pther reading were carefully put away
kor an improbable time of leisure.
II might break my leg some time"
paid David Brewer; then they'll come
handy" But the Tribune was reul
Earefully every week.
l have seen David Brewer stop am.
book at me willie | have been digging
potatoes with =; sober grin such Il
game to hiin always after he had swap
ped 'liosses' and got the worst of it
Then he would show me again. with &
little impatlepce in his manner, how tc
hold the handle and straddle the row.
He would watch me for a moment. turn
70 Uncle Eb, laugh hOpelessly and say:
"Thet boy'l hev to be a minister. He
can't work"
But for Elizabeth Brewer it might
have gone hard with me those days. My
mind was always Oh my books or my
last talk with Jed Feary. and she shared
my confidence and fed my hopes and
Shielded me as much ns possible from
the heavy work. Hope had a better
Asad for mathematics than l and had
always helped me with my sums. but
! had a better memory and an aptitude
IN other things that kept me ut the head
Of most Of my classes.
Best Of all at school I enjoyed the
"compositions." / had many thoughts,
such as they were, and some facility OF
expression. I doubt not. for a child.
Many chronicles of the countryside
came Off my pen. sketches Of odd events
and characters there in PARKWAY. These
were read to the assembled household.
Elizabeth Brewer would sit looking
Hravely down at me as I stood by her
knees reading In those days of my
early boyhood. Uncle Eb listened with
his head turned c%uriously. as if his ear
were cooked for coons. Sometimes he
aud David Brewer would slap their
3nees and laugh heartily, whereat my
eOster mother would give them a quick
glance and shake her head. for she
was always fearful OF the day when
she should see in her children the birth
OF vanity and sought to put it OF as fal
as might be. Sometimes sha would
cover her mouth to hide a smile and
when l had finished look warningly nj
the rest and say it was good for q lit
tie boy. Her praise never went fur
ther, and. indeed, all those people hated
ifattery M they did the devil ant
crowned upon concelt, She said that
when the love of fnttery got hold Of
one he would lie TO gain it.
can see this slender, blue eyed wo
man as | write. She is walking up ant
down beside her spinning wheel. car
hear the dreary buz-z-z-z of the spindle
% she feeds 1t with the fieecy ropes
That loud crescendo echoes in the still
house Of memory. I ran hear her sing
ing as she steps forward and slows thu
wheel and swings the cradle with hel
foot:
o the other side Of Jordan,
In the sweet fields OF Eden.
Where the tree OF life Is blooming
There Is rost for you"
She lays her hand to the spokes again
and the roar Of the spindle browns he,
voice.
All day, from the breakfast hour Il
supper time, I have heard the disma
Sound Of the spinning as she walked
xhe floor, content to sing of rest, bu
never taking 1t.
Her home was almost a miracle O
ueatness. She could work with II
peace Of mind until the house had bee
swept and busted. A fyspeck on tn
window was enough to cloud her day
Che went to town with David now an
2hen-not oftener than once n quarter
and came back Ill and exhausted.
she sat in a store waiting for Davi
Mbtle he went to mill or snithy her In
a0tnatio ave her no rest. That dir
Abhorrtng mind Of hers would begin I
clean the windows, and when that wa
onishsd IL would sweep the floor an
Dust the counters. In due course
would lower the big chandelier an
cake out all the lamps and wash tn