Year: 1873

One hundred years ago there lived up
on the shores of Stephens River, Ia small
stream emptying in Casco Bay, man
named Peter John, an honest upright
fellow, good neighbor and friend, but
with one abominable habit that won him
many enemies and caused much dis
comfort and even suffering to those around
him This fault was an almost irresistible
fondness for practical joking that would
not allow him to let an opportunity pass
unimproved wherein he could crafty this
special passion Of mis- being


There came time, however, when the
exercise of this popularity brought upon
him an ordeal so sharp that it cured his
unfortunate propensity, to the great JOY Of
family and friends. The process was
disagreeable, but il was etfectual and
permanent.


One day Peter had been at work a few
miles from home. After his days labor
was finished his employer invited him to
partake of the evening meal with him.
This invitation Peter accepted, and then,
his system fortified by hearty supper, he
commenced his journey homeward.


The path which Peter trod that night
would lead one to-day through cultivated
fields and by many pleasant farm houses,
but then it was a broken forest.


1t was dark, cold December night, the
wind swept itfully among the great pines
and beeches, and strange moaning sounds
were sobbing through the forest now and
then an owl uttered its hoarse cry, or the
sudden rattling of the dry leaves told
when some tmid animal hurried away
from the sound of footsteps.


But Peter was strong and stout-hearted
and trudged quietly along, without pay
ing any attention to the sights and sounds
around him, until he had achieved perhaps
one-half OF his journey, when suddenly
his ears caught the sound OF horses feet
descending the long rocky plain behind
him. Gradually the sound grew nearer,
until the sharp peculiar voice Of the horse
man could be heard urging the beast to a
faster gait.


"Ah! ah ;" said Peter 10 himself, as
he heard the familiar tones, That is Tn
Gle Tom Barry


Now Uncle Tom and Peter were neigh
bors that is to say, their clearings lay
about mile apart, and none knew better
than Peter that the old man was naturally
of timid disposition, and furthermore,
that nothing inspired him with greater
fear, nothing that he had not rather meet,
than a wolf


:" No sooner, therefore, had Pete: be
come convinced that the horseman behind
him was his neighbor, than he re-
solved to use this trait of Uncle Toms as
a means Of working out what he had con
sidered a capital joke. His plans were
soon laid, and he proceeded to put them
in execution. Creeping through the un-
dergrowth which bordcred lis path, he
crouched down aud patiently waited the
approach Of his victim. He had not
waited long before Uncle Tom, his horse
at sharp trot, and himself casting timid
glances around, arrived opposite his place
of conceament Peter allowed him to
pass few PAGES, and then springng for
ward upon his hands and knees, he uttered
one or two snarling yelps, followed by the
loud, clear gathering cry of the wolves.


The effect upon Uncle Tom was electri-
cal Springing half way out of the sad
die, he uttered scram of terror, and then
STOPPING until his head nearly touched the
name, he plunged his spurs into the horse 5
fanks, and was off down the road like a
shot As for Peter, he rolled over on his
back, and kicked his heels in huge enjoy
ment of success. Loud and long he
laughed, occasionally varying the perform
ance by making the forest ring with a
repetition of the wild savage cry that had
struck such terror into Uncle Toms timid
heart.


But there is an end to all things aud
SO, after while, there was an end to
Peters mirth, and he wiped his eyes, re
gained the path, and was about to resume
his journey when he heard sound that
sent the cold shivers courspg over his
body, and almost froze the blood in his
veins The wolves had heard his success,
full imitation Of their music, and were
coming down upon him


In an instant he realized his position
and peril. From the sounds he knew
that the wolves were coming down on
either side of the path he had just travel
ed, and therefore the only point of safety
was his own clearing, more than mile
away.


ali this passed through his mind like a
flash, and then, calling all his energies in.
to play, he dashed down the path with
scarcely less speed and terror than did
Uncle Tom Barry himself.


The race was for life.


Down the long slope that led to Pit
kin's Hollow and up the ascent beyond fled
Peter, while scarcely hundred yards be-
hind came snarling pack, hungry and
fierce. The life Of an unarmed man
would not be worth Minutes purchase
could they once surround him. This Pc
ter acknowledged to himself as thought
entered his mind to stand on the defensive,
so be abandoned the thought before it was
fully formed, and hurried on still faster
! Down another long slope, across broad
sheet of ice at its foot and Leatherbee's
Hill with its long, straight ascent, lay be-
fore him. He shuddered as he glanced
up its ru gged side, for he felt that his
strength would scarcely suffice to carry
him to the top. The perspiration streamed
from every pore. his breath came in very
short, wheezy gasps, his steps were be.
coming unsteady y-and once, striking his
feet against loose stone, he preserved