Middletown transcript., 1909-07-10

bedroom uOoIs DosAus ~
te get up!
M.m.m! groaned David. ] Just,
went to bed. Is it morning?
The room was gray with the
dawn. Mrs. Watson came softly
in and set lamp on the shelf
near the head Of the bed. Yes,
it's three o'clock, she said. You
know you have good deal TO do
to-day.
The boy sat up in bed, stretch
inc and yawning, but saying
cheerfully, Oh, yes! I'll bedoWn
in lust a minute, mother.
Mrs. Watson fingered beside
the bed. She was a fair-haired,
comely woman Of nearly forty,
but her shoulders were already
bent with hard work, and her
face was sallow, with deep lines
in her. forehead and round the
mouth. She leaned over to stroke
the boys hair.
I'm sorry you have to work
so hard, David, she said, with
an almost awkward kindness.
I'm all right, answered the
boy, repelling her caress, as If
half.ashamed that she should
give it. It's good for me. But
you're the one that's working
too hard.
l guess It's good for me, too,
she whispered. If only your
father we're well, l wouldn't
mind. A child's waking cry
came from below. Oh, there's
Rhoda! She'll wake your father.
She closed the door hastily and
hurried downstairs.
David sprang out Of bed and
pulled on the few garments that
an eleven-year-old boy needs in
the month Of May on the farm.
Then blowing out the light, he
tiptoed down the stairs TO the
bare kitchen. Mrs. Watson was
taking a johnny cake out Of the
oven. On the table were a faded
red table.cloth and a few plates
and cups. Bert, the eldest son,
a boy of sixteen, was already at
the table. David went out and
washed his face and hands at the
bench beside the back door. Then
he sat down to his fried salt pork
and potatoes, and his molasses
and johnny-cake.
There's no butter this morn
ing, boys, said the mother Il
took all we had to fill that last
crock. This was not an uncom.
mon deprivation, and the boys
said nothing.
I'll do the milking before | go
over to His, said Bert, as he
rose from the table. You'd bet
ter get right to planting the
corn, as long as you have to go
to town this afternoon. Bert
was to "change works" with a
neighbor that day, and was in
a hurry.
1t was daylight now. and the
tall Lombardy poplars at the foot
Of the garden stood out gauntly
against the yellow sunrise. The
cornfield beyond, cold and black
where the light had not yet
touched it. David went to the
corn crib to get the two sacks
half-full of shelled corn that he
had left there the night before.
Taking the corn-planter and the
sacks of corn, he went on briskly
to the field.
The lines he had made the day
before with the marker showed
dimly on the dark, level ground.
He put one sack of corn at the
end of the field nearest the house,
then took the other and plodded
with his planter to the opposite
end. He was beginning to feel
the exhilaration of the morning.
Up and down the long rows he
went, thrusting the V-shaped
wooden planter into the ground,
jerking it up, and tramping down
the kernels with his stubby little
shoes. AS he went, he suited
his motion to a hoarse, crow.like
chant that was meant to be a
song:
"John Browns body lies a-mould-
ering in the grave"
He was a thin, homely little
chap, round-shouldered and red
haired. Work too heavy and long
continued for a boy had left its
mark upon his undeveloped body,
but his cheerful face and lively
blue eyes still held something
distinctly childish.
He seemed too young for his
task. The work he was doing
was not hard, but after two hours
Of the steady up-and.d down motion
and the heavy walking through