Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1919-02-27

yer honest debts? I'd like to know
that, too?"
IF I've ever acted like a rich man
It's been when I want lookin'," said
Uncle Peabody.
What business have you to go en-
largin' yer family-takin' another
mouth to feed and another body to
spin for? That costs money. I want
to tell you n thing, Baynes, you've
got to pay up Or git out O. here"
He raised his cane and shook it in
the air as he spoke.
ooh, l amt no doubt O. that" said
Uncle Peabody. "Youll have to have
yer money-that's sure; an you will
have 1t If I live, every cent of it.
This boy is goin' to be a great help
to me-you don't know what a good
boy he is and what a comfort he's
been to us!"
These words of my beloved uncle
uncovered Say emotions so that 1 put
my elbow Oh the wood-box and leaned
my head upon it and sobbed.
II amt goin' to be hard on ye,
Baynes," said Mr.. Grimshaw as he
rose from his chair; "Ill give We
three months to see what you can do.
| wouldn't wonder if the boy would
turn out all right. He's big an cordy
of his age and a purity likely boy, they
tell me-"
Mr.. Grimshaw opened the door and
stood for a moment looking at us and
added in a milder tone: you've got
one O. the best farms in this town an
if We work hard an use common
sense We ought to be out O. debt In
five years-mebbe less"
He closed the door and went away.
Neither Of us moved or spoke as we
listened to his footsteps on the gravel
path that went down to the road and
to the sound of his buggy as he drove
away. Then Uncle Peabody broke
the silence by saying:
"He's the dam'dest-"
He stopped, set the half-splintered
stick aside, closed his jackknife and
went to the WATERFALL to cool his
S11olloLlS Will Il ullHh.
Aunt Deel took up the subject where
he had dropped it, as if no-half-ex-
pressed sentiment would satisfy her,
saying:
odd skinf1int that ever lived in
this world, ayes! I amt goin' to
hold my opinion O. that man no
longer, ayes! 1 can't. It's too pow
erful-ayes!
Having recovered my composure 1
repeated that I should like to give up
school and stay at home and work.
Aunt Dee. interrupted me by say
ing:
Il have an idee that Sile Wright
will help us-ayes! He's comm home
an you better go down an see him
ayes! Hadn't vel"
Chart an I'll go down to-morre1;,'
said Uncle Peabody.
Some fourteen months before that
day my uncle had taken me to Pots
dam and traded grain and salts for
what he called a rip roarin' fine suit
o. clothes with boots and cap and
shirt and collar and necktie to match,
l having earned them by saving and
cording wood at three shillings a
cord. How often we looked back to
those better days! The clothes had
been too big for me and I had had to
wait until my growth had taken up
the slack in my coat and trousers
before l could venture out of the
neighborfood. I had tried them on
every week or so for a long time. Now
my statue filled them handsomely
and they filled me with a pride and
satisfaction which I had never known
before.
"Now may the Lord help We to be
careful-awful, terrible careful O.
them clothes every minute O. this
day" Aunt Deel cautioned as she
looked at me. "Don't GIT no horse
sweat nor wagon grease on 'em."
TO Aunt Deel wagon grease was
the worst enemy of a happy and re-
spectacle home.
We hitched our team to the grass
hopper spring wagon and set out on
our journey. 1t was a warm, hazy
Indian-summer day in November. AS
we passed "the mill" we saw the ST.
lent Woman looking out Of the little
window of her room above the black
smith shop-a low. weather-stained,
frame building, hard by the main
road, with q narrow hanging stair on
the side of it.
"She keeps watch by the winder
when she amt travelin'," said Uncle
Peabody. "Knows all that's goin'
on-that woman-knows who goes to
the village an how long they stay.
When Grimshaw goes by they say she
hustles off down the road in her rags.
She looks like a sick dog herself, but
I've heard that she keeps that room
o. hers Just as heat as a pin"
Near the village we passed a smart
looking buggy, drawn by a s%pry-foot-
r1 howr~ ~ rI:,- Tl.-n 7