The Olneyville times. (Olneyville [Providence, R.I.]) 1887-1917, 1916-12-15

road, where the route began, than
4 Deacon realized the ineXperience OF
/ the new man. Why, he was actually
going to drive right past the Powers
! place, and the Powers almost always
had mail OF some kind. even IL il
wasn't more than a poultry pagazine
or "a seed catalogue. After fone or
two such mistakes Deacon took charge
! hSuseslia 1tar! stobbiSs Chesvcr he
had been-jn the habit of callihs, wait
I:ipg uptiE. the lheS. carrier forbd who
lived there and had looked thrqbgh let
! tiers .apisHszcstxtnsssAStahAshad any
thing for them.
All the forenoon and all the after
! noon this went on, but when the red
sun went down in the frosty west there
still remained half hundred letters
and more than peck OF packages 10
be delivered. The new man was hun
! cry and tired, but he was no gutter.
So he begged some hay and oats for
Deacon, borrowed lantern, and to-
gether they started TO finish the route.
/ AS for Deacon, his old knees were
Il
sitter than ever, his shoulder muscles
ached, his flanks heaved like pair OF
blacksmith's bellows, but he plunged
on, never skipping a single house,
never hesitating at n roundabout half
mile, doing his whole duty quite as
thoroughly as if there had been some
one behind TO urge him on instead OF
a cold-numbed clerk, who had no
| longer even touched the reins. At last
only one letter was left, thick, bulky
one in n blue waterproof envelope,
bearing n foreign postmark. Josiah
Braisted ESQ.," was the address.
"Braisted, eh?" muttered the clerk.
wonder If the old horse knows where
he livesT
Evidently Deacon did, for he was
plowing through big drift heading
straight out on the Boston road into
the darkness. Far ahead, on the top
OF a long hill, the clerk could see the
lights Of a big house. There were no
other lights between. Miles behind he
could make out the glow OF the city.
The clerk wished he could be back
there, where one could be warm again
and get something hot to eat. With
numb fingers he pulled out his watch.
Half-past nine! Why, IL would take
them a good two hours TO drive back
now Braisted be hanged He could
get his letter after Christmas.
So he grabbed the reins and indl-
Gated to Deacon a desire To turn
around. But Deacon would not turn.
Pull on the rein as he might, Deacon
would only swing his head about.
keeping his legs moving straight
ahead. BY much shouting and saving
on the reins Deacon was stopped.
Then the new driver waded out 10 his
head. took him by the bits and tried TO
point the horse the other way. Dea-
con refused TO bulge Those lights on
the top Of the long hill marked the end
Of the route, and Deacon knew it. And
TO those lights they went. Josiah
Braisted?' asked the driver curtly OF
the young woman who answered his
ring.
"Oh, it's come, it's comet" she
shouted to someone within. as she held
out her hand eagerly for the letter.
Never before had he seen so much
excitement caused by the delivery OF
a letter. In a moment there were three
or four persons In the front hall, all
talking at once.
"Do you think IL will save him, doc
torp asked the anxious-faced old
lady who had followed the girl TO the
door.
1T will IL anything will, / guess"
answered a stout, bearded man. And
he mounted the stairs 10 see the pa
tient in the upper room.
Then they insisted that the half
frozen clerk come inside and have
something 90 eat. Deacon? Oh. they
would take care OF Deacon. They did
all this and more. II seemed that this
letter had been long expected, and was
sadly needed, for IL came from a prod
igal son to a very sick father. II had
its effect, too.
OF course the clerk told them OF
;. Deacon's heroic stubbornness, OF how
the old horse had insisted on going
to the very end Of the route when
he had tried to turn him back. Josiah
: Braisted, ESQ., heard the story during
his convalescence.
II must tell my son about that when
he comes home,' he would repeat as
they told him Of the part Deacon
played in the story. "We ought to do
something for that old horse" he said.
They did, too. The Office clerk, who
will first show you a handsome gold
watch, tells the story best, always end
ing with, and old Deacon, why, he
lives out there on the Braisted place
like a thoroughbred. He's In clover,
he is." "
"Well," Dan Sweeney Will add, 'ft's
no more'n he deserves. Old Deacon
was a mighty good horse in bis day,
aud mighty knowin'.".-St Louis Globe
Democrat