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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Seaforth News, 1938-09-22, Page 6PAGE SIX. THE SEAFORTH NEWS The Little Orphan I would not have remembered it well but for the fact that 'Uncle wrote it all down in his aceount 'bo so and imagined much evil of the forest, Eh but somehow I had no fear if he ale were near me. Wien .we had fixed the a fire and lain down for the night on se the fragrant hemlock and covered e ourselves with the shawl, 'Uncle Eb e, lay on one side of me and .old Fred ey on the other, so 1 •felt secure indeed. ed The night had many voices there in A the deep wood. Away in the distance e I could hear a strange, wild cry, and 's 1 asked what it was and Uncle Eb ns whispered back, " 's a loon." Down et the side of the mountain a shrill bark s rang in the timber and that was a fox, at according to my patient oracle. Anon r, we heard the crash and thunder of a h failing tree and a murmur that fos- s lowed in the wake of the lasteecho, a "Big tree lapin'," said Uncle Eb, as e he lay gaping. "It has t' break a way e t' the ground an' it must hurt. Did ye -notice how the wood tremble? If we Y was up above them we could see the e hole thet tree hed made, Jes' like an open grave 'till the other hev filled it - with their tops," My ears had gone deaf with drow- e sines when a quick etir in the body e of Uncle Eb brought me back to my ✓ senses. He was up on his elbow list- , ening and the 'firelight had stink to a glinnner. Fred lay shivering and growling 'bride me. I could hear no other sound, 'Be still said Uncle Eb, as he based the dog's ears. Then he rose and began to stir the fire and lay on more wood. As the flame leaped and threw its light into the tree tops a krill cry, like the scream of a fright- ened woman, only louder and more terrible to hear, brought me to nay feet, crying. 1 knew the source of it was near us and ran to 'Uncle Eh hi a fearful panic, "Hush, boy," said she as it died away and went echoing its the far forest. "I'll take care o' you. Don't be scatrt, He's more 'fraid uv us than we are o' hint. He's makin' off now." \1'c heard then a great crackling of dead brush on the mountain above us. It grew fainter as we listened. In a little while the woods were silent, "It's the of man o' the woods," said 1'ncle Lb, "E's out takin' a walk," "Will he hurt folks?" "'Tow!" he answered, '"jest as harmless as a kitten." CHAPTER ILI it:aturaliy there were a gond niany things I wanted to know about "the or man 0' the woods," but Uncle Eb .rot id take no part in any further t its! e r cation, So I had to lie dawn beside lain again and think out the problem as best I could. aly mind was never more acutely conscious and it gath- ered many strange impressions, wan- dering in the kingdom of Fear, as I poked up at the tree tops. I?ncle lab nad built a furious tire and the warmth of it made me sleepy at last. Both he and old Fred had been snor- ng a long time when I ceased to hear hem, Uncle Eb'woke me at daylight, n the morning, and said we must 'be ff to find the trail. He left ane 'by the re a little while and went looking on 11 sides and came back no wiser. We were 'both thirsty and started off on ough footing, without stopping to at. We climbed and 'crawled for hours, it seemed to me, and every - here the fallen tree trunks were eaped in our way. Uncle Eb sat own on one of them awhile to rest. 'Like the bones o' the dead," said e, as he took a chew of tobacco and eked' at the rotten skeleton a f a lien tree. We were both pretty well et of breath and of h.op•e also, if. I member rightly, when we rested gain under the low hanging 'boughs a 'basswood for a 'bite of luncheon. IJ ncle Eh opened the little box of ney and, spread some of it on •our eat] and butter. 'Ina moment I note ed that half a dozen 'bees had lit in e open 'box. "Lord Harry! here's honey bees," and that has helped me over many slippery place in my memory of tlto events. At the store we got sem crackers and cheese, tea and cafe dried beef and herring, a bit'of .hon and .a loaf of -bread that was clic and 'buttered 'before it was done u We were off in the woods by nin o'clock, according to Uncle Eb diary, and I remember the trail 'led into thick brush where I had to g out and walk a king way. It wa smooth under foot, however, and noon we came to a clash in the tirn'be full of briars that were all aglow wit big 'blackberries. We .filled our hat with then' and Uncle Eb found spring, beside which we 'built a fir and had a memorable• meal that mad me glad of my hunger. Then we spread the oilcloth and la down for another sleep. We could se the glow of the setting sun throngl the tree tops when we wake, and be gan our packing. "We'll hev t' hurry," said Unc•1 Eb, "er we'll never ,git out o' th woods ''night. 'S 'bout six mile e more t° Paradise road, es 1 met it Come, yer slower 'n a toad in a tar barrel," We hurried off cin the trail and I remember the deg lacked very crest- fallen with two big packages tied to his collar. He delayed a bit by trying to shake them off, but Uncle Eb gave him a sharp word or two and rhea he walked along very thoughtfully, Uncle Eb was a little out of patience that evening, and I thought he bore down too harshly in his rebuke of the old dog. "You shif le s cuss," he said to hint, "ye'd jes'dewnathine but chase squirrels an' let me break myback t' carry yer dinner." It was glooming •fast in 'the thick timber, and !hole 'Eb almost ran with me while the way was }:Iain, The last ringing note of the ..vacel thrush had died away and n a little while it was so dark I could distinguish nothing taut the looming mass of -tree trunk;, He stopped suddenly and :trained his eyes in the dark. Then he whistled a sharp, sliding note, and the sound of it gave me some hint of his trouble. "Git down, Willie," id he. "an' tele my hand I'm 'freed we're !vet here 'n the 'big woods," We groped about fore !nun's, try- ing - -ing to find the trail. "No arse," he said presently. "we'll her t' stop right here. tighter known better 'n t' come through near •un - down. Guess it was more 'n anybody • could do." He built a fire and began to lay out a supper for us then, while Fred sat down by me to fie relieved of his 1 bundles. Our supper :vas rather dry, , for we had no water, but it was only two 'hours since we left the spring, so we were not suffering yet. Uncle a Eb took out of the fire a burning t brand of pine and went away into the i gloomy woods, holding it above his o head, while Fred and .I sat by the h fire. a "'S lucky we didn't go no further," he said, as he carne in after a few r minutes, "There's a big precipice over e Pendens Dunno haw deep 't is. Guess we'd a found out purty soon." He cut some 'boughs of hemlock, h .growing near us, and spread them in d a little hol'low. That done, we covered them with the oilcloth; and sat down h comfortably ,by the 'fire, Uncle Eb pi had a serious look, and was not in- fa o1i'ned to talk of story telling. Before 0 turning in he asked me to kneel and re say my prayer as i• had done every a evening at the feet of my mother. I of remember, clearly, leneeling before my old companion and hearing the; -ho echo of my small voice there in the br dark and lonely woods, is I remember boo, and even more th clearly, how he ibent his head and covered his eyes in that 'brief mons- said he, as he covered the box so as ent, I had a great dread of :dat,cness to keep them in, and tumbled every - .thing else into the basket, "Make baste now, Willie, and follow nse with all Per might," he added. In a minute- he let out ,one of the bees, and started running in the dir- ection it (flew. It 'went but a few feet anis then rose into the tree top, "'He's goin' t' git up into the open air," said Uncle Eb, 'Rut ,I've got his bearit is an` I gates he knows the way all right." We took the direction indicated for a few minutes and then 'Uncle Eb 'let out another prisoner. The bee, flew' off a little way mei wheat rose in a slanting course to the tree .tops. He showed us, however, that we were looking the right way, '°Them little •fellers her got a good compass," said Uncle Lb, .as we. fol- lowed the line of the bees. °It p'ints hone ev'ry time, an' never makes a mistake." We went further this time 'before releasing another. He showed us that we had borne out of our course a Sit- tle and as we turned to follow there were 'half a dozen bees flying around the box, as if 'begging for admission, °'Here they are back agin," said Uncle Eb, "an' they've toad a lot o' tiseir cronies 'bout the man an' the boy with honey," At length one of thein flew over our heads and back in the direction we had cone from. "Ah, ha, said Uncle Kb, 'it's a bee tree an' we've passed it, but I'm goin' t' keep lettin' 'ern in an' out. Never heard uv a swarm o' 'bees goin' fur away an' so we mus' be near the clear. ire." In a little while we let one go that took a road of its own. The others had gone back over our heads; this one bore off to the right in front of us, and we followed..I was riding in the ;basket and was first to see the light of the open through the tree tops. But I didn't know what it meant until 4 heard the -hearty "hur- rah" of Uncle Eb. We had come to smooth footing in a grove of maples and the clean trunks of the trees stood up 'straight as a granite column. Presently we came upon wide fields of .corn and clover, and as we looked back upon the grove it had a rounded front and 1 think of it now as the vestibule of the great forest, "It's a reg'lar big tomb," said Un - tile Eh, looking back over his shoul- der into the gloomy cavern of the woods. 1Ve could see a 'log house in the clearing, and we made for it as fast as our legs would carry us, We had a mighty thirst and when we came to a little brook in the meadow we laid down and. drank ,and drank until we were fairly grunting with fullness. Then we filled our teapot and went on. Men were reaping with their crad- les in a field of grain and, as the near- ed the log house, a woman cause out in the door -yard and, lifting a shell to her lips, blew a .blast that rushed over the clearing and rang in the woods be- yond it. A lonci lialloo came 'back from the men. A small dog rushed out at Fred, barking, and, I suppose, with some lack of respect, for the old dog laid hold of him in a violent temper and sent brim away yelping. We must have presented an evil aspect, for our clothes were tos31 and we were both limping with fatigue. The woman had a kindly face and, after looking at us a moment, carne and •stooped before me and held my small face in her hands turning it so she could look in- to my. eyes. "Pott poor little critter," said she, "where you gain'?" Uncle Eb told her something about my father and mother being dead and our going west. Then she hugged and kissed Inc and made me very misera- ble, 1 remember, wetting my face with her tears, that were quite 'beyond my comprehension. 'Jethro," said she, as the men carne into the yard, "I want ye t' look at this 'boy. Did ye ever eve such a con - nine little critter? Jes' look at then bright eyes l" and then she held nse to her breast and nearly smothered me and began to hum''a bit of an old son "Yg,en fall o' mother love," said her husband, as he sat down on the grass a moment. "Lost her only 'baby, an' the good 'Lord has sent uo other. '1 swan, he has 'got purty eyes. Jes' as blue as a May Hower, Aint ye hungry? Conte 'right 10, broth et' ye, an' set down t' the table with us," They made room for us and we sat down 'between the bare'ellbows of the hired men, I remember my eyes came only td the top of the table. So the gond woman :brought the fancily Bi- ble and sitting on -that fitni founda- tion .I ate ray dinner of salt pork and potatoes and milk gravy—a diet as grateful as it was familiar to niy taste, "Irphan, eh?" said the man of the house, looking down at Inc. `Orphan," Uncle Eb answered, nod- ding his head, "God fearin' fo'l'ks?" "'Best in the world," said Uncle Eb. "Want 1' bind 'int out?" she man THURSDAY, 1$EPTEMBER 22, 1938 asked. "Couldn't spare "'int," said Uncle E'b, decisively,, "Where ye goin'?" •Uncle Eb hesitated, groping for en answer, 3 suppose, that 'would do no violence . to .our Mutual . understand- ing: "Goin' 1' heaven," I ventured to say presently—an s h p )an as saver that gave rise to conlfltcting emotions at the table "That's right," said Uncle Eb, turn- ing to me and patting my head. We're on 'the road t' heaven, I ho.pe,' an' ye l] see it some day, sartin sure, if -ye keep in the straight road and be a good boy." After dinner .the good woman book off my clothes and 'put int in 'bed while she mended there. I went asleep then and did not awake for 'a long time. When I got nap at last stlte brouglit a 'big 'basin of water and washed me with , such motherly ten- derness in voice and manner that I have never' forgotten it, Uncle 'Lb 'lay sleeping on the lounge and when she had 'finished dressing me, Fred and ,I went out to play in 'the .garclen. It was supper time in a little while then, again, the woman winded the shell and the men cavae came up sirom the field. We sat down to eat with then, as we had done at noon, and Uncle Eb consented to spend fhe night after some urging. He helped then' with the milking, and as I stood 'beside hint shot ,a jet of the warns white 'flood into my mouth, that tickled it so I ran away laughing. The milking done, I sat on 'Uncle Eb's knee in the door - yard 'with all the rest of that house- hold, 'hearing many tales of the wild- erness, and of robbery and murder on Paradise road. I got the impression that it was a country of unexampled wickedness and ferocity in men and animals. One man told about the ghost of Burnt Bridge; how the bridge had burnt one afternoon and how a certain traveler in the dark -of the night driving down the hill above it, fell to his death at the brink of the culvert. "An' every night since then," said the man, very 'positively, "ye can hear hint 'drivin' down thet hill—jes' as plain as ye can hear me talkin'=the rattle •o' the wheels an' all. It stops sudden an' then ye can hear 'int hit the rocks way down there at the 'bot- tom •o' the gul'ley an' groan an' groan An' .folks say it's a curse, on the town for leavin' thet hole open." "What's a ghost, Uncle .Sb?" 1 whispered. "Sontethin' like a swift" he answer- ed, "hut not so powerful. We heard a panther las' night," he added, turning to aur host. "Hollered like sin when he see the fire." "Scairt!" said the man o' tate house gaping, "That's what ailed hint. I've lived twenty year on Paradise road an' it was all woods when I put up the cabin. Seen deer on the doorstep an' bears in the garden, an' panthers in the fields, But I tell ye there's 110 crit- ter so terrible as a man. Ml the ani- mals know 'ins—how he roars, an' spits fire ass' stroke an' lead so it goes through a body er bites off a leg, mob - be. 'Guess they'd made friends with me but them •I didn't kill went away smarting with holes in 'ens. An' 'I. guess they told all their people 'bout me—the terrible critter that walked cn 111 hind legs an' bed a white face an' drew tip an' spit 'is teeth into their vitals 'cross a ten acre lot. An' putty soon they concluded they didn't want t' hev no truck with me. They thought this clearin' was the valley o' death an' they got very careful. But the deer they kept peekin' in at vie. Sunithin' funny 'bout a deer—they're so cu'rus. Seent's though they loved the look n' me an' the taste o' the tante grass. Mebbe God meant em 1' serve in the yoke some way an' be the friend o' man. They're the outcasts o' the for- est—tire prey o' the other animals an' men like 'em only when they're dead. An' they're the purtiest critter alive an' the spryest an' the mos' graceful." 'Men are the otos' terrible of all critters, an' the meanest," said Uncle Eb. "They're the only critters that kill fer fun."' "Bed -tine," said our host, rising presently. "Got t' be up early 'n the morning." i We climbed -a ladder to the top floor of the cabin with the hired Hien, of whom there were two. The good lady of the house had made a bed for us on the floor and 1 remember Fred came tip the ladder too, an•d day down beside us. Uncle Eb was up with the men in the morning and at 'breakfast time niy hostess cane and woke vie with, kisses .and helped me to dress. When we were about 'going she brought a little wagon out of the cel- lar that had been a plaything of her dead boy, and said 1 could have it. This wonderful wagon was just .the thing for the journey we were making. When I 'held the little tongue in my hand I was half way to heaven .al- ready. It las four stout ready. It had four stout wheels and a •beautiful red box. Her 'brother had sent it all .the way from 'New York and it had stood so long in the cellar it was now much in need of repair, Uncle Eb took it to the tool shop in the stable and putt it in ship sleep tier and made a little pair of thi go in place of`tlse boingue. Th made a 'ling !fiat collas and a'' ba out of •the l'eath'er in.'o1'd haat-leg rigged' a' -pair of tugs' out of two of rope. Old Fred was quite down !']nen he stood in 'h stns s tween the .shafts. He had waited !patiently .to ha caller fitted; the had grinned and ed and wagged his tail with no cion i of the e tour and huattiliatii reer he was •enterin upon. 'N' stood with sober face and his was full 'of meditation. "You 'fi'ghtin' hound!" said mope this'll' nllproye Pier s'e'er," Fred 'fried to sit down when E'b tied a leading ,rope to his o When he heard the wheels rattle felt the pull of the wagon be l back and .growled a little and et to run, 'Uncle •E'b s'h'oated 'w and held him back, and thews the got down on his belly and trey until we patted his head and gave a 'kind word, He seemed to et stand presently and canoe along a steady stride. IO•ur hostess me at the gate and the look of her when she bade us goodby and to some cookies into my' pocket, ha ways lingered, in my memory and p in me a nighty respect for wonte The sound of her voice, the tears, tl waving' of her handkerchief, as went away, are among the things th save made me what I am. We stowed our packages in the wa gon box and 'I walked a few miles at hen got into the empty basket. Fr tipped his load over once or twic got a steady gait in the way of intlu tTy after a while and a more cheerf oak. We had our dinner .by the row ide on the bank of a brook, an hou r so after midday, .and came to a 1i le village.a'bout'sundown, As we were earing it there was some excitement song the dogs and one of them tack- ed Fred, He went into 'battle very romptly, the wagon jumping and attling until it turned bottom up. Re- iforced by Uncle 'Eb's cane he soon aw the heels of his aggressor and tood growling savagely: He was like ie goal in a puzzle maze all wound id tangled in bis harness and it took one time to get his face before him nd.his feet free. At a small grocery where groups of en, just out of the 'fields, were sit - ng, their arms bare to the elbows, e bought more 'bread and 'butter. In ying for it Uncle Eb took a package it of his trouser pocket to et his ange. It was tied in a red hndker- ief and I remember it looked to be out the size of his fist. He mac put- ig it back when it fell from hi ltd, heavily', and I could hear the ink of coin as it struck. One of the. en, who sat near, picked it up and ve it back to hint, As I remember 11, his kindness had an •evil flavor, r he winked at his companions, who dged each other as they smiled owingly.;Uncle Eb was a bit cross, en .1 climbed into the basket,;and lked along in silence so rapidly it rriect the dog to keep pace. The ding rope was tied to the stock of rifle and Fred's walking gait was slow for the comfort of 'his neck. 'You shif'less cuss! I'll put a kink your neck fer you if ye don't walk ' said Uncle 'Eb, as he looked back the dog, in a temper !^holly un- rthy of him. \Ve had crossed a 'deep valley and re climbing a long hill he the dusky light. Willie." said Uncle 'Eb, "your eyes better '11 mine -look back and see nyone's corrin','' Can't see anyone," 1 answered, Look 'way' back in the road as -fur t'e-can see," did so, but 'I .could see iso one. He kened his pace a little after that before we had passed the ]hill it getting dark. 'rhe road .ran into ds and a river cut through them a e. way from the clearing. upper time, 'Uncle Eb," he an - red, turning down to the shore. got out of the =basket then an wed hint in the 'brush. Fred fo'unJ and traveling here and 'shortly took off his harness and left the on, transferring its load to .the et, while we Pushed on to find a ping place. Back in the thick er a long way from the road, we a fire and 'had our supper. It a dry nook in the pines—"tight 'house," Uncle EIb said—and 'car - with the fragrant needles. n we lay .on our 'backs in: ,the ght I remember the weary, dro•n- voice of .Uncle Eb'had an impres- accompaniment of whispers, e he told stories "I had a glowing r on the en'd of a stick and was ing fiery skeins in the gloom. had been telling Inc of a pan - he had met in the woods' one day, and how the creature ran away at the sight of hint. "`Vtiby's a panther 'fraid o' folks?" 1' inquired. • (To be continued.) e ar- ils to en this ck-pad s, sand pieces sroast s '!'e- ve his pant= suspia n ca - 'w he aspect Uncle char - Uncle char. and coked anted boas" dog lilt lees e •brim nder- with t us face eked s M- ut n. ie we .at id ed 0, s- ul ci- n t- 1 S 1 s 0 it a 1 I? it s' tl at a m ti pa a ch ch ab tis ha ch 111 ga we fo nu kn wh wa wo lea the too in up, at wo we ttei are if a as slac and was woo Eta "S swe folio it h we wag bask cam timb built was as a petcd Whe heel! ing sive Whil cinde weav He ther Want and' For Sale ads, 1, week'P5c PROFESSIONAL CARDS Medical SEAFORTH CLINIC Dir. E. A. McMaster, MB., Gradu- ate. of University of Toronto. 7. 12. Colquieoun, MF C.M„ 'Grad- uate ate. of Dalhousie 'University, Halifax. The Clinic is fully equapged with complete •ands modern x-ray and other up-to-date diagnostic and fhereuptict equipment. e Dr. Margaret arm K t g Campbell, P 1, M.D„ L. B'. A. ,P. Specialist in Diseases fn Infants and Children, will be, at the Clinic last Thursday in every month from 3 to 6 p.m, Dr. F. J. R. Forster, Specialist in Diseases of the Ear, Eye, Nose and Throat, will be at the Clinic the first Tuesday in every month from 4 to 6 p.m. Free well -baby clinic will 'be held on the second and last Th'ursd'ay in every month from 1 to t2 p.m.' W. C. S'PROAT, M.D., F.A.C.S. Surgery Phone 40-W, •Office John St„ Seaforth DR, H. HUGH ROSS, Physician and Surgeon Late of London Hos- pital, London,England, Special at- tention to diseases of the eye, ear, nose act throat, Office and sesidence behind Dominion Ban'&, Office Phone No. 5; Residence Phone 104. tam DR, F. J. BURROWS, 'Office Main St., Seaforth, over Dominion Bank. Hours 2-15 and '7 to'8 p.an. and by ap- pointment, Residence, 'Goderich St, two doors west of !United Church. Phone 46, DR. F. J. R. FORSTER— Eye Ear, Nose and Throat. Graduate in Medicine, University of Toronto 11897. Late Assistant New York Ophthal- mic and Aural Institute, Moorefield's Eye, and 'Golden Square throat hospi- tals, London. At Commercial Hotel, Seaforth, third 'Wednesday in each month from 1.30 p.rn, to 5 p.m. Auctioneer. GEO'RG'E ELLIOTT, Licensed Auctioneer for the County of Huron Arrangements can be 'made for Sale 'Date at The Seaforth News. Charges moderate and satisfaction guaranteed F. W. AHRENS, Licensed Auctioi eer for Perth and Huron Counties. Sales Solicited, Terms on Application. Farm Stock, chattels and rea•I estate property. R. R. No, 4, Mitchell, Phone 634 r 6. Apply at this office. WATSON & REID REAL ESTATE • AND INSURANCE AGENCY (Successors to James Watson) MAIN ST., SEAFORTH, ONT. All kind's of Insurance risks effect- ed at lowest rates in First -Class Companies. THE McKILLOP Mutual Fire Insurance Co 'H'EAD OFFICE—SEAFORTH, Ont. OFFICERS President, Thomas Moylan, Sea - forth; Vice President, William Knox, Londeslboro; Secretary Treasurer, M. A. Reid, Seaforth, AGENTS F. McKercher, R,R.1, Dublin; John E. Pepper, R.R.1, Bruoefield; E. R. G. Jarmouth, Brodhagen; James Watt, Blyth; C. F. Hewitt, Kincardine; Wm. Yeo, Holmesville, DIRECTORS Alex. Broadfoot, Seaforth No. 3;. James S'holdice, Walton; Wm, Knox, Londesboro; George Leonhardt, Bornholm No. 1; Frank McGregor, Clinton No, 5; James Connolly, God- erich; Alex McEwing, Blyth No. 1; Thomas Moylan, Seaforth No. 5; Wm. R. Archiba'Id; Seaforth No, 4. Parties desirous to effect insurance or transact other 'business, will be promptly attended to by applications to any of the above named officers addressed to their respective post - offices. The early Irish Cobbler crop is fairly well cleared and the intermedi- ate crop is moving, to market from the central part of the Province. A, short- age of moisture during ;June and July retarded .growth of plants and devel- opment ;of tubers with the result that low yields are 'being ,harvested. The quality is excellent. The late Orap presents a favoura- ble appearance at present. During the past two weeks 'the rainfall generally has been 'beneficial and plant ,growth excellent.