Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1907-09-07

can | give you llft?"
l agreed that he could, and we
drove together. Father William met
us by the gate. In one hand he ex-
hibited a rat that he had Just taken
from the spring trap at the gardens
end; the other hand nursed two fine
lettuces, He responded to the agents
greeting, but ignored mine, for l am
in disgrace.
Eve come about the repairs" said
the agent, cheerfully.
"An' we'll ye might" replied Faith
er William, in acid and reproanhful
tone. "Sixty-five years I've lived
| ere an pide me rent regular, an tn
place tumbling' to pieces. I'm shamed
on We, an no mistake. Do ye make
tn ole place fit FIR man what's in
years fore we gifts another winter,
FIR l feels tn cold, an that's fact"
WELL" said the agent, cheerfully,
well soon make things right for you,
anyway" He took out his notebook.
ITO begin with, we'd better have the
thatch stripped and put tiles or states
on" he suggested. It's very ragged
up there"
do ye leave tn patch to bide
where it bel" interrupted Father
William, sharply. 1T amt armed
ye, as I'm aware. An don't We come
bringin' y'r nasty old tiles nor states
either, for l never couldn't abide
they. TIL roofll do, an it's me what
lives under it, an pies for ut
reg lar"
Certainly, If you wish" replied
the agent, crossing through the note
in his book. II don't want to ar
range for anything you don't want
done. May come inside? The pony
will stand quiet"
do We both come in" said Father
William, depositing the rat on the
top of the close-clipped hedge, that
all who passed down the road might
see 1t. Il was jest a-comin' from
pickin' up tn greet ole rat out o. me
trap, an it's very many on 'em /
catches, an nobody can't deny ut.
There's folks" he continued, after
a brief pause to recover wind,
there's folks what says, DO We don't
leave they traps bout y'r garden,
Father William, COS they catches me
dogs An l say to SIGH as they,
It's the fault O. y'r dogs, or y'r greet
fool of a boy what don't look after
'em; it amt no concern o. mine, an
III set me traps so long as there's a
nasty greet rat left
The old gentleman's fierce little
eyes were bent against me, but /
made no sign.
Come in, both O. ye," he repeated.
Il amt got nothin' to ide an nothin'
to be shamed on. I'm open most all
tn time to rightfor'ard men, an
wimmin, too. though l don't take
much count o. they, an that's the
truth. Ye can look into me parlor
an into me garden an see me wege-
bles CROWN, same as these lettuces
what I've just cut and fine 'uns they
be. There amt no concealment bout
me, an never was"
We entered the cottage. Certain
ly the ceiling was black, and Father
! William had put hooks in every raft
er and had hung household treas
ures from them. Here was the frame
of butteray-net, there was a piece
of waterproof, and l saw scissors and
gardening tools and a crook that
looked twin brother to the one that
brought the old mans shepherding
staff to an end. The wall was deco
rated with pictures from various IL
Illustrated journals presented by me
from time to time and pasted over the
paper.
Ceiling whitewashed?" Queried
the agent.
" faint likely" snapped the right
forward man. II amt goin' to ave
all me things covered WI lime-wash.
1 couldn't never abide that, an l amt
goin' to-"
walls repapered?" said my COM
panion, successfully hiding a smile
from the lawful tenant.
I'VE shan't touch they walls, an
don't We try ut" said Father William.
Like to scrape away. all me pictures,
doubt, an gle me suthin' what amt
as pretty. I'm s'prised on ye Do We
|
t'other things what wants dom up"
We'll, let's go into the scullery
and upstairs" suggested the agent;
but before he could move more than
a couple of steps in that direction
Father Williams hand anticipated
him with surprising energy and
barred the way.
Don't we try ut" he cried; and
went on, with outsretched hand and
flashing eyes, do We keep where ye
are, or go outside fore 1 makes ye."
He spared for wind.
Sixty years an more I've lived
'ere,' he cried, IAN pide me rent, an
well We knows ut. An now ye come
ere an want to walk all Ger me
'oIse, same as it b'longs to We, an go
into me scullery an up into me bed
room, an that We shan't. Do We go
y'r ways now, fore takes me crook
stick to ye. There amt been no.
body in me bedroom this forty years,
an shan't be, nor in me scullery nei-
Their"
But, my good fellow, how can
see to repairs II / don't see your
Tooms?" cried the agent.
do We don't call me a good Teller
o. yourn," snapped Father William,
"for l pies me rent an b'longs to
meself. An don't We asst me to teach
We y'r business, for ont do ut; l
never come to We to asst We to teach
me shepherdin'. An ye couldn't ha'
taught me If 'ad, doubt. sent
f'r we to make me place fit an right,
not to rob Inc o. me thatch, an Spite
me walls an mess me ceilin', an go
a-spyin' in me scullery an me bed
room, An I'm tellin' ye to go quick,
fore L"
Don't get excited, Father WILL
lam" said the agent. closing his book
with a bang and picking up his hat.
I'm not going to stay. Good day"