Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1923-12-27
THE RED LOCK-

they wus youngsters. Ricollect one
Sundy Jim tuck 1t into is head t. yoke
up couple O. calves Oh man Rum
nudge was calc'Iatin' t. save FIR oxen,
an e coaxed ST t. play off sick with
i'm SOS they wouldn't haf t go t
church. Well, the OF folks werdn't
more'n out O. sight when up jumps
Jim, an ST right after i'm, an they
breaks FIR the barn-Iot t. yoke up them
yearlin's.
"Sh-h-h-i' warned Zeke. "hyur
comes the parson."
Almost with the words, the dapper,
nervously alert young preacher en-
tered the door. In spite OF his studi-
Gus air of ripper years, he couldn't have
been more than six or seven and
twenty. The trademark of his call
ing was hung all over him. His shiny
boots, elaborate frock coat, neck stock,
high hat and enormous spectacles
fairly shrieked schoolmaster.
And yet one could not help wonder
ing why fate had set such man as
the Rev. Caleb Hopkins to the busi-
ness of keeping school. Dissociated
from all suggestion Of theology and
chalk, his figure was about all that
could be desired In man-height a
trif1e above medium; well set up; 1.-the
and graceful-and his face-nothing
short of handsome, only for certain
air of peering severity.
To look at him as he entered the
door-six feet of 1.-THE young man
hood smothering under its ascetic, not
to say sOmber, investure- would
never have guessed that there was
anything wrong with his health, and
yet that was precisely what had
brought him to the Flatwoods.
And now as he walked past Loge
Belden slouched against the counter,
he stopped and stood staring curl
ously at him.
Belden seemed on the point Of re-
senting the look, when the Reverend
Caleb quickly turned away, and with
nod passed the group around Uncle
Nick and went on to the post Office
window at the rear OF the room.
What d y'u say we ask i'm t.
g long" whispered AL Counterman
to Uncle Nick as the young minister
stood waiting for Zeke Pollok to adj
just his dirty spectacles on his thin
nose, turn up the smoky lamp and
laboriously sort over the meager bunch
of letters and postcards.
"Y'u da'sn't," Uncle Nick answered
guardedIy.
Watch me, an y'u'll see whuther
da'st. amt a-feared of no parson.
"Mr. Hopkins" he called a moment
later, stepping in front Of the young
preacher as he passed toward the
door, "a passed. of us fellers Is goin'
a-seinin' up around Alpine island In
the mornin'. I reckon y'u wouldn't
like t go long, mr. nothin', would y'u?''
"Who are going, did you sayY'
"Oh, me an Uncle Nick, thar, an
Big Jack Warhope"
Il have promised to be at the social
tomorrow evening at the schoolhouse
which, I am informed, is always held
in celebration Of the last day of school
Do you expect to return in time for
| that?"
cav, wen be back by noon, easy
LET me see," pondered the preach.
er, not willing to compromise his dig.
nifty by appearing overanxious. "This
is Wednesday,; tomorrow is Thursday
II believe 1 may safely allow myself
this recreation. shall be most happy
to avail myself Of your kind invita-.
ton"
The fisherman stood lingering hil
hat and staring at the door long after
| the minister had passed out, the
twinkle gone from his puckered one
eye, a puzzled look on his smoked ba
con rind Of face.
well, I'll be derned! Wouldn't
that SINCE y'ur whiskersI / dunno VII
whuther he said ed come r not"
Uncle Nick threw his head back ant
fairly roared, while the postmaster
rumpled up his dry countenance into {
half begrudged grin.
Course he said ed come. Whal
wus you brung up at, anyhow Didn'
y'u hyur i'm say he'd vail himself OF
y'ur kind invytation7 Course he.
calculating t. come. Zeke, well ha,
t. git Al new spellin' book an star
i'm t. school next fall"
WELL" muttered the fisherman, al
his face cleared and the twinkle came
back to his waggish one eye, ''all l go
t. say is: he can use up more diction
airy a'sayin' yes than any man | evel
heard. But amt e some locker
barrin' that KILN rig he's hobbled VI
inn"
"Most too good-lookin'," piped zeke
saw, dunno, Zeke," Uncle Nick OBJ
served, faint go'n' t. hurt i'm none
Only drawback I can see is: it's a pity
t., waste all them good looks on
preacher"
anyhow" put in AL, his rakish ey,
| dancing at Uncle Nick's remark, 81
he wus ugly enough t. tree the devi
| up thorn bush, l don't low it'd he'I
is preachin' none. An I reckon hC
shore must be some preacher, r h,
wouldn't be where e is-teachin' in
college that makes preachers. / be
y'u he can cipher plum through an,
'rethmetic you can hand i'm, an the,
| say he's posted on purt nigh ever'thin.