Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1916-01-11

aey watches today for Uncle Bushrod
when he come home ever evenin.
been q Weymouth, all 'cept in color
and entitlements. Both Of US Is old,
Marse Robert. 'Tain't goin' to be
long tell we gwine to see Miss Lucy
and has to give an account Of our
doin's. De ole niger man won't be
'spected to say much mo- dan he done
all he could by de family dat owned
him. But de Weymouths, dey must
say dey been livin' pure and fearless
and without reproach. Gimme dis
yalise, Marse Robert-I'm gwine to
hab 1t. I'm gwine to take 1t back to
the bank and lock 1t up In de vault.
I'm gwine to do Miss Lucy's biddin'.
Turn 'er loose, Marse Robert"
The train was standing at the sta
ton. Some men were pushing trucks
along the side. Two or three sleepy
passengers got off and wandered away
into the night. The conductor stepped
to the gravel, swung his lantern and
called: "Hello, Frankw at some one
invisible. The bell changed, the brakes
hissed, the conductor drawled: "All
aboard"
MI. Robert released his hold on the
satchel. Uncle Bushrod hugged 1t to
his breast with both arms, as a lover
clasps his first beloved.
yot~ 1oo p,1oh ~
said Mr.. Robert thrusting his hands
into his pockets. "And let the sub
ject drop-now mind! You've said quite
enough. I'm going to take this train.
Tell Mr.. William I will be back on
Saturday. Good night"
The banker climbed the steps Of the
moving train and disappeared In a
coach. Uncle Bushrod stood motion
less, still embracing the precious satch-
el. His eyes were closed and his Lips
were moving In thanks to the Master
above for the salvation Of the Wey-
mouth honor. He knew Mr.. Robert
would return when he said he would.
The Weymouths never lied. Nor now,
thank the Lord, could it be said that
they embezzled the money In banks.
Then awake to the necessity for fur
ther guardianship Of Weymouth trust
funds, the old man started for the bank
with the redeemed satchel.
Three hours from Weymouthville, In
the gray dawn, Mr.. Robert alighted
from the train at lonely flag station.
Dimly he could see the figure Of man
waiting on the platform, and the shape
Of a spring wagon, team and driver.
Half a dozen lengthy bamboo fishing
poles projected from the wagons rear.
you're here, Bob" said Judge
Archinard, Mr.. Roberts old friend and
schoolmate. "It's going to be royal
day for fishing. I thought you said
why, didn't you bring along the stuff"
The president Of the Weymouth bank
took off his hat and rumpled his gray
locks.
"Well, Ben, to tell you the truth,
there's an Internally presumptuous old
niger belonging in my family that
broke up the arrangement. He came
down to the depot and vetoed the whole
proceeding. He means all right, and
well, I reckon he Is right. Somehow
he had found out what I had along,
though hid 1t In the bank vault and
sneaked 1t out at midnight. I reckon
he has noticed that I've been indulging
little more than q gentleman should,
and he laid for me with some reaching
arguments.
"Pm going to quit drinking" Mr..
Robert concluded. "I've come to the
conclusion that q man can't keep it
up and be quite what he'd like to be
-'pure and fearless and without re-
proach'-that's the way old Bushrod
quoted it."
"Well. I'll have to admit" said the
Judge thoughtfully as they climbed into
the wagon, "that the old darkey's ar
gument can't conscientiously be over
ruled"
"Still," said Mr.. Robert, with ghost
Of a sigh, there was two quarts Of
the finest old silk velvet Bourbon In
that satchel you ever wet your lips
WITH