The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1919-02-13

bought a hundred an fifty acres from
Abe Leonard. Coin to build a new
house In the spring. It will be nearer
the village"
He playfully nudged my ribs with
his elbow.
"We've had a little good luck, Bart"
he went on. "Tll tell We what it is ii
you won't say anything about it."
l promised.
II dunno as 1t would matter much"
ne continued, 'fbut I don't want to do
any braggin'. 1t amt anybody's bust
ness, anyway. An old uncle over in
Vermont died three weeks ago and
left us thirty-eight hundred dollars.
1t was old Uncle Ezra Baynes O
Hinesburg. Died without n chick G.
child. Your aunt and me slipped down
to Potsdam an took the stage an
went ove an got the money. II was
more money than / ever see before
In my life. We put 1t In the bank i IN
Potsdam to keep 1t u O. GrimshaW's
hands. | wouldn't trust that man as
u to " oul Iiio" a JUL Nv tle
tall"
1t was a cold, clear night, and when
we reached home the new stove was
swapping with the heat In its frrhOx
and the pudding putting in the pot
and old Shep dreaming in the chimney
corner, Aunt Deel gave me a hug at
the door. Shep barked and leaped to
my shoulders.
"Why, Bart! You're CROWN like a
weed-ain't ye?-ayes We be-" my
aunt said as she stood and looked at
ne. "Set right down here an warm
ayesv
How warm and comfortable was the
dear old room with those beloved races
In II. | wonder if paradise itself can
seem more pleasant TO me. | have had
the best food this world can provide,
in my time, but never anything that
l ate with a keener relish than the
pudding and milk and bread and but
ter and cheese and pumpkin pie which
Aunt Deel gave us that night.
Supper over, | wiped the dishes for
my aunt while Uncle Peabody went
out to feed and water the horses. Then
we sat down in the genial warmth
while | told the story of my life in
'the busy town." as they called 1t.
What pride and attention they gave
me then!
My fine clothes and the story of how
l had come by them taxed my inge-
nuity somewhat, although not improp-
erly. l had to be careful not to let
them know that l had been ashamed
of the homemade suit. They somehow
felt the truth about it and a little
silence followed the story. Then Aunt
Deel drew her chair near me and
touched my hair very gently and
looked into my face without speaking.
ayes! / know" she said presently,
In a kind Of caressing tone, with a
touch of sadness in it. "They amt
used to coarse homespun stuff down
there In the village. They made fun
o. ye-didn't they, Bart?"
81 don't care about that" I assured
them. 1.-THE minds the measure Of
the man." l quoted. remembering the
lines the Senator had repeated to me.
THAT'S sound! Uncle Peabody ex-
claimed with enthusiasm.
Aunt Deel TOOK my hand in hers and
surveyed it thoughtfully for a moment
without speaking.
You amt goin' to have to suffer
that way no more," she said in a low
tone. We're goin' to be more comf'ta-
ble-ayes. Yer uncle thought we better
go West, but l couldn't bear to go of
so fur an leave mother an father an
sister Susan an all the folks we loved
layin' here in the ground alone-I
want to lay down with EN- by an by
an wait for the sound O. the trum-
pet-ayes !-mebbe it'll be for thou
sands o. years-ayes!"
To our establishment the clock
struck twelve.
"Hurrah! It's merry Christmas y
said Uncle Peabody as he jumped to
his feet and began to sing of the little
Lord Jesus.
We joined him while he stood beat
ing time with his right hand after the
fashion of a singing master.
"Off with. yer boots, friend!" he ex-
claimed when the stanZa was finished.
"We don't have to set up and watch
like the shepherds"
We drew our boots on the chair
round with hands clasped over the
knee-how familiar is the process, and
yet / haven't seen 1t in more than half
a century! l lighted a candle and
scampered upstairs in my stocking
feet, Uncle Peabody following close
and slapping my thigh as if my pace
were not fast enough for him. In the
midst of our skylarking the candle
tumbled to the floor and 1 had to &c
back to the stove and relight It.
How good 1t seemed to be back ir
the old Don under the shingles! The
heat of the s~tovepipe had warmed its
hospitality.
"It's been kind o. lonesome here
said Uncle Peabody as he opened the
window. II always let the wind come
In to keep me company-it gifts 9,
warm"