The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1928-12-21

~ithout taking the trouble to answer
his half-hearted good-by. Norman
made deliberately across the beach
while still within sight of his fathers
wrath. But once beyond it. turned
aside and proceeded north, up toward
Ottawa lake. He had small idea where
he was going. Except that he had no
intention of seeking Hans Miller this
afternoon, or of imparting to him at
once his fathers decision that he must
go as helper in the boat. He hated the
Great lakes intensely that minute. He
hated fishermen. He hated boats, the
smell of boiling nets, wind, waves,
three-day blows.
Life was extraordinary. Here he
was, his mother dead not week, and
this thing he had lodged all his life
Immediately caught up with him. A
job in the fishing fleet!
He had worked more than three
years for Hans Miller, who owned
the store il Madrid Bay, helping the
fat Dutchman put up ice and do other
odd jobs in winter, in summer deliver
ing the ice and fires. green vegetables
to the back doors of resort cottages
along Ottawa lake. From the begin.
ming his father had objected to the
wagon. The day Miller took him on
thu boy had run down the
wharf to his fathers fish shanty to
tell him the news.
"Your names Erickson" Gustaf ex-
ploded when Norman paused for
breath. San Erickson driving a gro
Gerry wagon!"
Norman still remembered 1t resent
fully. His mother had taken no part
in that quarrel. Her bewildered black
eyes were troubled at the argument.
but she offered no counsel. Only once,
and he rev .embered now the anxiety
on her face, she had taken him aside
and reminded him dutifully, but with
no conviction, that other boys fshed
with their fathers.
1t was the winds Norman dreaded;
the rage of waves dismayed him. AL
ways during the tempestuous weather
of three-day blows, he remembered
Gustafs story of the schooner Gott-
land and the captains dog He'd not
tell his father that. ~
"a dam poor Erickson" old Gus.
tat would complain. ''NO stomach for
winds, pfaughP
Gustaf made that "pfaugh!" an ugly
word. He had way of thrusting it in
to Norman's flesh like fish knife To
be sure he need never hear 1t again
He had stayed in his fathers house
because of his mother, hadn't he? To
RI, sht, tomorrow, he could start out
unmindful of winds and weathers. He
could leave the lake and all its dis
tasteful memories, could settle some
where beyond the hills. -
and farm? He walked bit more
rapidly at the thought. He hated
farms.
He passed up the long gentle rise
Of the road behind the village and at
the top sat down. Here, somewhere
near this spot where he was sitting,
he had fought once when be was a
small boy. He had fought and lost
1t was with a schoOlmate named Ed
die Baker. one day when he had been
walking home with Julie Richaud..
The standard school in Madrid vii.
lage. where Norman spent eight short.
satisfying terms, was remarkable for
only one thing Two camps of chill
dren succeeded during school hours in
living amicably under the same roof
Even In his youth Norman was con-
scious of these two discordant forces
because he belonged by right of blood
TO both of them
One group big, blend, slow, thor.
ough. came from the neat homes of
the village fishermen. The other group,