Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1913-09-23

the chickens On her way back she
looked up at the roof Of the old house.
The two wide mouthed chimneys need
ed repainting. and If Silas had been
alive she knew that he would have
painted the brickp a fresh red. with
neat white stripes outlining the NOR
tar. A big locust tree overhung the
house and trailed dropping branches
along the rdgepole.
"That limb needs looping on" sighed
Betsey as she went indoors.
At II o'clock that night Betsey Fin
dlebury awoke suddenly and sat up In
bed.
What was that sound7 She listened
intently. It was gentle pattering
overhead and occasionally a heavy
creaking sound.
Betsey Findlebury slipped from her
bed and went to the garret stairs.
Again she hardened Now the sounds
were palmer. and they appeared to
come from the roof.
What could 1t be1 She shifted the
air.
In five minutes Betsey had dressed
herself In the dark and noiselessly
gone down stairs. The front door
opened and closed, and Betsey tptoed
out to the porch. down the steps aud
on to the grass Of the front yard
When she had reached the shadow OF
a tall shrub she peered up at the roof
of her house, and her nervous fingers
clutched her throat
silhouetted against the midnight sky.
In the radiance of the full moon. was
a mans tall. white clad form. Betsey
saw him stepping carefully to and fro'
bending now and then. His arm went
back and forth. back and forth. and.
although the shrill chorus Of the katy
dds drowned any sounds be might
have made. Betsey imagined she could
hear the pat-pat-pat Of paint brush
passing over tho bricks Of the shabby
chimney.
Betsey stole into the house and
went to the kitchen. where, with
shades carefully drawn. she lighted
the oil stove and put coffee on to boil.
Then she stepped from pantry to table
until she had a tablecloth laid and
places set for two. When everything
was In readiness she went out into the
front yard and looked up at the roof.
The midnight painter was quietly
letting himself down into the branches
Of the locust. By the time he had
slipped down to the ground beside the
back porch Betsey had flung wide the
kitchen door and was saying In a
CHEEKY voice that she tried to hold
steady:
Hurry up. Silas. Your breakfast is
waiting for you. Seems to me you've
been a powerful long while over them
chimneys"
For an instant there was silence.
Then the tall form. clothed in painters
overalls. stepped forward on to the
porch.
Silas Findlebury appeared worn and
haggard and very tired. His eyes look.
ed anxiously at Betsey's face. beautiful
with its tender. tremulous smile.
"Betsey, Betsey. do you want meT'
he whispered brokenly.
"Silas Findlebury, you'll ketch your
death a-standing out therer' scolded
Betsey. and so. drawing her lost hus'
band within the house. Betsey Findle-
bury once and forever laid his ghost
Over that midnight meal Silas Fin
dlebury told how he had gone fishing
that February day. how the wind and
tide had carried him of shore and into
the path of a sound steamer and how a
deck hand had flung him a rope and
pulled him aboard.
He told Of their arrival in New York
and of his sudden inspiration to spec
ulate with the $51S contained In his
pocket. If he could return home with
double that amount Of money they
could pay OF the mortgage and build
the new barn as we'll.
Silas speculated and lost Then he
went to Milton. where his brother
lived, and obtained work there In one
of the mills. Little by little he was
saving money, trying to make up the
sum he had lost At different times he
had walked the ten miles to Little RiV'
or to do something on his own farm.
to help Betsey, to catch glimpse OF
her sitting beside her lonely lamp. To-
night he had come to paint the chin
neys. They had worried him. he said
Here Betsey's arms around him stop
ped his narrative.
It mattered not that he had saved
only a paltry s25 Of the needed
amount; 1t mattered nothing to Betsey
that It would take two more years OF
saving to acquire another amount suf-
flcient to pay off the mortgage. Silas
had come home, they were together.
and his ghost would walk no more.
And Betsey was so happy that she
gave the glad news to Finney Loyd's
wife 80 that Ida could have the pleas
ure Of spreading the tidings from one
end Of Little River to the other.
prsssmakIns on the eoulevards.
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