Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1906-10-27
THE THREAT OF !
ABNER PHILLIPS 7

By JOHN BARTON OXFORD.

~ through the Snlmmeflng neat or
the July MONDAY, its strident sum-
mons carrying even to the lot where
David Warner was whetting his
scythe in the grateful shade of a
Father Abraham apple tree. The
whetting ceased abruptly; the scythe
was hooked up in low hanging
limb, and David, hopping the inner
band of his straw hat with a red
handkerchief, made his way up the
lane to the low white house.
He pushed open the door of the
shed and strobe into the darkened
kitchen to find his wife sitting de-
iectedly In a chair by thestoye.. There
were traces OF recent tears in her
eyes.
What's wrong, Abby" he asked,
with clumsy solicitude. "Tlred out?"
She shook her head. Its father"
she said, YEARLY.
What's the matter with him?
Amt sick, is he?"
Hes got another of his spells of
goin' to the poor farm"
"Sho!" was David's mild expletive.
81 call it real mean of him." she
burst out, hotly, Ito go stirrin' things
up so right in the middle of haydn
time, when I've all those extra hands
to cook for! He might have waited
till next week"
HE wasn't very considerate, that's
a fact" Her husbands voice had a
hint of anxiety in it. What set him
goin' this time?"
"Oh, s'pose twas my scolding as
much as anything" she said, in a
voice that quavered with righteous
wrath. Il was fryin' doughnuts this
morning, and he come in with some
lead in an old skillet. Said he'd got
to make some sinkers for the boys to
go fishin' with, and wanted to melt
it. Perhaps l did speak out sharpern
need be, but l couldn't have him at
the stove then. The next thing |
knew, he came in from the shed with
his old black valise and went up
stairs with it. Said he wasn't goin'
to be burden on anybody, and he
guessed the poor farm was the place
for him. He's up stairs packin' his
things now. wish you'd go up and
talk to him."
David stroked his chin thoughtful
ly. A grim light came into his eyes.
"He hasn't any call to be THROWN
the poor farm in our faces" said he.
Il don't know but what it'd be a
good idea to let him go this time"
Let him go to the poor FARM"
gSsped his wife. in Mortified surprise.
David smiled little sadly. That
his father should feel his presence to
be unwelcome, even without cause,
was a source of pain to the farmers
dutlful heart.
He won't go to the poor farm,
Abby. Don't let that worry you. If
he goes anywhere he'll go down to
Mary James. Wasn't he talkin' only
last Sunday bout goin' down there
for a visit? You just try him and
see!"
II don't know but what you're
right" said Abby. Hes pretty try
ing when he gets on one of these
spells"
II know" said David. 81 know.
The trouble is we've always wheedled
him and coaxed him too much
when he's said he was going. He
knows its plaques us to hear him
talk that way, but If we should pre-
tend not to care / think he'd change
his tune pretty sudden If he says
anything more about the poor-farm,
just make out 1t wont disturb you
terrible sight to have him go. /
know it seems sort of hardhearted,
but it'll be best for all of us in the
long run II we can get this bein'-a-
burden business out of his head. ]
guess he's coming down now"
There was a scraping and humping
on the back stairs. A door near the
table opened, and Abner Phillips
came into the room bearing bulg-
ing black valise in his hand. He
was arrayed as for journey. A long
linen duster covered his ill-htting
Sunday clothes, and his best felt hat
was perched on his thin gray hair.
You aren't leavin us, are you,
father?" David asked, cheerfully
The old man surveyed them stolid-
| ly over the rims of his spectacles,
first his daughter. then his son-in-
law.
He seemed to be awaiting the
usual protestations which his former
announcements of his intention to
become an inmate of the pooFhouse
had invariably raised.
II guess l know when I'm in the
way" he observed
Now, father" Abby began.
Il amt intendin' to be a burden
on anybody" he interrupted her.
I'm goin' to the place where be-
long-and that's to the poor-farm.
Coin to have dinner before you
start, aren't you" David asked.
''I'll get my dinner there"
IF you put 1t Off till next week, )"
David suggested. II could take you
over JustS now in the middle of
haydn can't spare a horse"
The old man stiffened. 1.-THE select
men will sect / get ever" he said,
coldly, as he moved toward the door.
David could not restrain a Ihuckle.
Give my love to Mary James folks"
he said.
But Abner seemed not to hear him.
He banged the back door and went
slowly out of the yard to the dusty
road.