St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1911-02-01

iage even IN early September Wnen
there is an easterly storm. Unbutton-
Ing the shoes was slow work.
Here, let me help YOU commanded
the captain. getting down on one knee
and taking foot in his lap. tut, tut,
tut! You're wet. Been some time
sence fused with button boots. Lace
or long legged cowhides come handler
Never wore cowhides, did you?"
mo, sir
81 s'pose not. used to when l was
little. Remember the first pair / had
Copper toes on 'em-whew! The cop
per was BACKED over when they come
out of the store, and that wouldn't do,
so we used to kick a stone wall till
they frightened up. There, there she
comes. Humph! Stockin's soaked too.
Wish 1 had some dry ones to lend you.
Might give you pair of mine, but
they'd be too scant fore and aft and
too broad in the beam, cal'late.
Humph! And your top higgins as
wet as your hull. Been on your beam
ends, have your
II don't know, sir. l fell down in
the bushes coming across. There
were vines, and they tripped me up,
and the umbrella was so heavy that
Eyes, 1 could see right off you was
carryin' too much canvas. Now take
off your bunnit, and I'll git coat of
mine to wrap you up in"
He went into his bedroom and re
turned with a heavy ''reefer" jacket.
Ordering his caller to stand up, he
slipped her arms into the sleeves and
turned the collar up about her neck.
Her braided s'pigtail'' of yellow hair
stuck out over the collar and hung
down her back in funny way. The
coat sleeves reached almost to her
knees, and the coat itself enveloped
her like a bedquilt.
There" said Captain Cy approving
ly-"now you look more as if you was
under a storm rig. Set down and
toast your toes. Where's that letter
you said you had?"
"It's inside here. l don't knows 1
can get at it, these sleeves are so
long"
"Reef 'em-turn 'em up. Let me
show you. That's better. Hum! So
you come from the depot, hey? Live
up that way?"
mo, sir! I used to live in Concord.
butt
Concord? Concord? Concord where?'
Concord, n. II. I came on the cars.
Auntie knew man who was going to
Boston. and he said he'd take care of
me as far as that and then put me on
the train to come down here. / stop
ped at his folks house in Charlestown
last night, and this morning we got
up early, and he bought me a ticket
and started me for here. l had box
with my things in it, but it was so
heavy l couldn't carry it, so 1 left it
up at the depot. The man there said
it would be all right and you could
send for it when
81 could send for it? / could? What
in the world Say, child, you've made
a mistake in your bearin's. faint me
you want to see; it's some of your
folks relations most likely. Tell me
who they are; maybe I know 'em."
The girl sat upright in the big chair.
Her dark eyes opened wide. and her
chin quivered.
"Ain't you Captain Cyrus Whit
taker?'' she demanded. ''You said you
was"
Eyes, yes, I am. I'm Cy Whitaker.
but what
"Wen, auntie told me-
"Auntie! Auntie who?'
"Auntie Oliver. She isn't really nv
auntie, but mamma and me lived in
her house for ever so long, and So
'Wait. wait, wait! I'm hull down in
the fog. This is gettin' too thick for
me- Your auntie's names Oliver and
you lived in Concord, N. h. For-for-
thunder sakes, what's your name?'
emily Richards Thomas"
m-Emily-Richards- Thomasr
eyes, sir"
emily Richards Thomas! What was
your mas name?'
Mamma was Mrs. Thomas Her
front name was Mary. She's dead.
Don't you want to see your letter?
I've got it now"
She lifted one of the Tapping coat
sleeves and extended a crumpled,
damp envelope. Captain Cy took it in
a dazed fashion and drew a long
breath. Then he tore open the enyel-
ope and read the following:
Dear Captain Whittaker-The bearer of
this is Emily Richards Thomas. She is
seven, going on eight, but old for her
years. Her mother was Mary Thomas
that used to be Mary Thayer. 1t was her
you wrote to about keeping house for
you. but she had been dead fortnight
before your letter come She had bron-
chial pneumonia, and it carried her off,
having always been delicate and with
more troubles to bear than she could
stand, poor thing! Since her husband,
who 1 say was scamp even if he is
dead left her and the baby she has took
rooms with me and done sewing and
such. When she passed away wrote to
Seth Howes. a relation of hers out west
and, so far as l know, the only one she
had. 1 told the Howes man that Mary
had gone and Emmie was left. Would
they take her? wrote And Seth's wife
wrote they couldn't. being poorer than
poverty themselves. I was afraid she
would have to go to a home but when