The Snowflake herald., 1921-09-16

swer, and so the days journey began.
Often, near it's end, they came to
some lonely farmhouse. Always Sam
son would stop and go to the door
to ask about the roads, followed by
little Joe and Betsey with secret hopes.
One of these hopes was related to
cookies and maple sugar and buttered
bread and had been cherished since
an hour of good fortune early in the
trip and encouraged by sundry good
hearted women along the road. An
other was the hope of seeing a baby
mainly, it should be said, the hope
of Betsey. Joe's interest was merely
an echo of hers. He regarded babies
with an open mind, as it were, for
the opinions of his sister still had
some weight with him, she being
year and half older than he. but
babies invariably disappointed him,
their capabilities being so restricted.
Still, not knowing what might happen,
he always took look at every baby.
The children were lifted out of the
wagon to stretch their legs at SlOughs
and houses. They were sure to be
close behind the legs of their father
when he stood at a strangers door.
Then, the night being near. they were
always invited to put their horses in
the barn and tarry until next morn
ing. This was due in part to the visit
full faces of the little children-a fact
unsuspected by their parents. What
motherly heart could resist the silent
appeal of children's faces or fail to
understand it? Those were memorable
nights for Sarah and Joe and Betsey. In
a letter to her brother the woman said:
"You don't know how good it seems
to see a woman and talk to her, and
we talked and talked until midnight,
let me hold the baby in my lap until
1t was put to bed. How good 1t felt
to have a little warm body In my
arms again and feel it breathing In
all my life / never saw a prettier
baby. 1t felt good to be in a real
house and sleep in soft, warm bed
and to eat jelly and cookies and fresh
meat and potatoes and bread and but
ter. Samson played for them and
kept them laughing with his stories
until bedtime They wouldn't take
cent and gave us a dozen eggs in a
we went away"
On warm, bright day in the sand
country they came to crude, half
finished, frame house at the edge Of
wide clearing. The sand lay in
drifts on one side of the road. It
A sickly vegetation covered the field.
ragged, barefooted man and three
scrawny, ill-clad children stood in the
dooryard. 1t was nOontime. A mon
grel dog, with a bit of the hound in
him, came bounding and barking to-
ward the wagon and pitched upon
Sambo and quickly got the worst OF
it. Sambo, after much experience
in self-defense, had learned that the
best way out Of such trouble was to
seize a leg and hang on. This he
did. The mongrel began to yelp. Sam
son lifted both dogs by the backs Of
their necks, broke the hold of Sambo
and tossed aside the mongrel. who
ran away whining.
"That reminded me of a bull that
tackled a man over In Vermont" he
said. "The man had a club in his
hand. He lodged and grabbed the
bulls tail and beat him all over the
lot. AS the bull roared. the man hol-
Tered: I'd like to know who began
this fuss anyway"
The stranger laughed.
"Is that your house? Samson said.
The man stepped nearer and an
swered in low, confidential tone:
"Say, mister, this is a combination
poorhouse and idiot asylum. | am
the idiot These are the poor"
He pointed to the children.
"You don't talk like an idiot" said
Samson. ~