HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Seaforth News, 1938-11-10, Page 6PAGE SIX.
The Little
Orphan
Jed Feary was greeted with ap-i tried to find in the sweat of my ,brow
that exalted pleasure of which ,Mr.
Greeley had visions in his comfortable
retreat on Printing House Square,
But unfortunately ;I had not his point
of view.
Hanging in my library, where I
may see it as 2 write, is the old sickle
of Uncle •Eb, The hard hickory of its
handle is worn thin by the grip of his,
band. It 'becomes a melancholy sym-
bol when I remember how also the
hickory bad worn him thin and bent
him low, and how infinitely :better
than all the harvesting of, the sickle
was the strength of that man, dimin-
ishing as it wore the wood, I cannot
help smiling when I look at the sickle
and think of the soft hands and tend-
er amplitude of Mr. Greeley.
The great ,editor had been a play-
mate of David Brower when they
were boys, and his paper was read
with much reverence in our home.
'How- quick ye can plow a ten acre
lot with a pen," Uncle Eb .used to say
when we had gone up to lbed after fa-
ther had been reading alpud from his
Tribune.
Such was the power of the press in
that country one had but to say of
any doubtful thing, "Seen it in print"
to stop all argument. If there were
any further doubt he had only to say
he had read it either in the Tribune or
the Bible, and couldn't remember
which. Then it was a stere question
of veracity in the speaker. Books and
other reading were carefully put away
for an improbable time of leisure,
"I might break my leg some time,"
said ])avid Brower, "then they'll
come handy." But the Tribune was
read carefully every week.
1 hate seen David Brower stop and
look at'nte while I have been digging
potatoes, with a sober grin such as
carate to him always after he had
swapped "bosses" and got the worst
of it. Then he would show me again,
with a little impatience in his manner,
!tow to hold the handle and straddle
the row. He would watch me for a
moment, turn to Uncle Eb, laugh
hopelessly and say:
"Thet boy'll hev to be a minister.
He can't work."
But for Elizabeth Brower it might
have gone hard with me those days.
My mind was always on my books or
nay last talk with (Jed Feary, and she
shared my confidence and fed my
hopes and shielded me as much as
possible from the heavy work. Hope
had a Better head for mathematics
than 1. and had always helped me
with my suns, but I had a better me-
mory and an aptitude in other things
that kept me at the 'head of most of
my classes. Best of all at school 'I en-
joyed the "compositions"— I had
many thoughts, such as they were,
and some facility of expression, 1
doubt not, for a child. Many chroni-
cles of the country side came off my
pen—sketches of odd events and char-
acters there in Faraway, '.('hese were
read to the assembled household, Eli-
zabeth Brower would sit looking
gravely down at me, as I stood by her
knees reading, in those days of my
early boyhood. Uncle Eb listened with
his head turned curiously, as if his
ear were cocked for coons. Some-
times he and David Brower would
slap their knees and laugh heartily,
whereat my foster mother would give
them a quick glance and .shake her
head. For she was always fearful of
the day when she should see in her
children the birth of vanity, and
sought to put if off as far as might he.
Sometimes she would cover her
mouth to hide a smile, and, when I
had finished, look warningly at the
rest, and say it was good, for a little
boy. Her praise never went further,
and indeed all those people hated flat-
tery as they did the devil and frowned
upon conceit. She said that when the
love of flattery got hold of one he
would lie to gain it.
I can see this slender, !blue eyed
woman as I write, She is walking up
plause and then by respectful silence
when he rose to speak. The fame of
his verse and his learning had gone
far beyond the narrow ,boundaries of
the township in which he lived. It
was the ,biggest thing in the county.
Many a poor sinner who had gone
out of Faraway to his long home got
his first praise in the Obituary poem
by Jed Feary. These tributes were
generally published in the county
paper and paid for by the relatives of
the deceased at the rate of a dollar a
day' for the time spent on them, or by
a 'few days of ,board and lodging—
glory and consolation that was, alas!
too cheap, as one might see 'by a
glance at his forlorn figure. I shall
never forget the courtly manner, so
strangely in contrast with the rude
deportment of other men in that
place, with which he addressed the
chairman and the people. The drawl-
ing dialect of the vicinity that flav-
ored his conversation fell from hint
like a mantle as he spoke and the
light in his soul shone upon that
little company—a great light. as 1
naw remember, that filled me with
burning thoughts of the world and
its nighty theatre of action. The way
of my life lay clear before me. as I
listened, and its days of toil and the
sweet success my God has given me.
although I take it (tunably and hold it
infinitely above my merit. I was to
get learning and seek some :way of
expressing what was in me.
It would ill become me to try to
repeat the words of this venerable
seer. but he showed that intemper-
ance was an individual sin. while war
was a national evil. That one meant
often the ruin of a race: the other
the ruin of a family: that one was as
the ocean, the other as a single drop
in its waters. And he told us of the
fall of empires and the millions that
had suffered the oppression of the
conqueror and perished by the sword
since Agamemnon.
After the debate a young lady read
a literary paper 'full of clumsy wit,
rude chronicles of the country side,
essays on ".Spring," and like topics—
the work of the best talent of Far-
away. Then came the decision, after
which the meeting adjourned.
At the door some other boys tried
"to cut me out." I came through the
noisy crowd, however, with Hope on
my arm and my heart fall of a great
happiness.
"Did you like it?" she asked.
"Very .much," I answered,
"What did you enjoy most?"
"Your company," I said. with a
fine air of gallantry.
"'Honestly. I want to take coo to
Rickards some tine?"
That was indeed a long cherished
hope,
"Maybe I wont let you," she said.
"a,Vouldn't you?"
"You'd better ask ire some time
and see."
"I shall. I wouldn't ask any other
girl."
"Well," she added, with a sigh, "if
a boy likes one girl I don't think he
ought to have anything to do with
other girls. I hate a flirt."
I happened to hear a football in
the snow behind us, and looking back
saw Ann Jane Foster going slow in
easy hearing. She knew all, as we
soon found out.
"I dew •jes love t' see young folks
enjoy themselves," said she, "it's en-
trancin' 1"
Coming in at our gate I saw a man
going over the wall ?back of the big
stables. The 'house was dark.
"Did you see the night man?" Eliz-
abeth 'Brower whispered as I lit the
lamp, "Went through the garden just
now. I've !been watching him here at
the window."
CHAPTER XIII
The love Of labor was counted a
great virtue there in Faraway, As for
myself, I could .never put my heart
in a ,hoe handle or in any like tool of
THE SEAFORTH NEWS
spindle as she feeds it with the (fleecy
ropes. That loud 'crescendo echoes in
the still; house of memory. 'I can hear
her singing •as she stops forward and
slows the wheel and swings the cra-
dle with her 'foot:
"On the other side of Jordan,
In the sweet fields of Eden,
'Where the tree of Life is blooming,
There is rest for you."
She lays her hand to the snakes
again and the roar of the spindle
drowns her voice.
A day,from-
11 he•,bneakf as
t hour to
t
supper time, 1 have heard the dismal
sound of the spinning as she walked
the !floor, content to sing of rest brut
never taking it,
Her Bone was almost a miracle of
neatness. She could work with no
peace of mind until the house had
been swept and dusted. A., fly speck on
the window was enough to cloud her
day. She went to town with David
now and then—not oftener than once
a quarter—and carate back ill and ex-
hausted. If she sat in a store waiting
for David, while he went to mill or
smithy, her imagination gave her no
rest. That dirt abhorring mind of hers
would .begin to clean the windows,
and when that was 'finished it would
sweep the floor and dust the counters.
In due course it would lower the big
chandelier and take out all the lamps
and wash the chimneys with soap and
water and rulb them till they shone.
Then, if David :had not come, it would
put in the rest of its time on the
woodwork. \Vith all her cleaning I
ani sure the good woman kept her
soul spotless. Elizabeth Brower be-
lieved in goodness and the love of
God, and knew no fear. 'Uncle Eb used
to say that, wherever Elizabeth Brow-
er went hereafter it would have to he
clean and convfortalble,
E'lder Whitmarsh came often to
dinner of a Sunday, when he and Mrs.
Brower talked volubly about the
.Scriptures, he taking a sterner view
of God than she would allow. He was
an Englishman by ,birth, who had set-
tled in Faraway because there he had
found relief for a serious affliction of
asthma.
He carate over one noon in the
early summer, that followed the ,event
of our ,last chapter, to tell vs of a
strawberry party that evening at the
White Church,
"'I've had a wonderful experience,"
said he as he took a seat on the piaz-
za, while Mrs. Brower carne and sat
near him, "I've discovered a great ge-
nius—a wandering fiddler, and I shall
try to bring him to play for us,"
"A fiddler! 'Why, Elder!" said site,
"you astonish ate!"
'Nothing but sacred ,music," he
said, lifting his hand, "I heard him
play all the grand things today -Rock'
of Ages,' 'Nearer My God, to Thee,'
'The b'Iarseillaise' and 'Home, Sweet
Home.' Lifted me off my feet! I've
heard the great masters' in New York
and London, but no greater player
than this mane
"Where is he and where did he
come from?"
"He's at my house now," said the
good man, "II found him this morn-
ing. He stood under a tree by the
road side, above Northrup's, As I
came near 1 heard the strains of 'The
Marseiliaise, For more than an hour
I sat there listening. It was wonder-
ful, Mrs. Brower, wonderful! The
poor fellow is eccentric. He never
spoke to me. His clothes were dusty
and worn. But his music went to my
heart like a voice ,from Heaven.
When he had finished 'I took him
home with me, gave •him food and a
new ' coat, and left him sleeping. I
want you to come over, and be sure
to Taring Hope. She must sing for vs."
"Me. Brower will he tired out, but
perhaps the young people may go,"
she said, looking at Hope and me.
My heart gave a leap as I saw in
Hope's eyes a reflection of nay own
joy. in a moment she came and gave
her mother a sounding kiss and asked
her what she should wear.
"I mast look nay 'best, mother," she
said.
"My child," said the elder, "it's
what you do and not what you wear
that's important,"
'They're both important, Eld-
er," said my foster mother, "You
should teach your people the duty of
comeliness. They honor their Maker
when they look their best"
The spirit of liberalism was abroad
in the sons of the Puritans, In Eliza-
beth Brower the ancient austerity of
her race had been 'freely diluted with
humor and cheerfulness and human
sympathy, 'It used to be said of Dea-
con 'Hospur, a good but •lazy, man,
that he was given both to prayer and
profanity. uncle Eb, who had once
heard the deacon swear, when the lat-
ter had been bruised by a kicking
cow, said that, so far as he knew, the
deacon never swore except when t'
was necessary. Indeed, most of those
men had, I doubt not, too little of that
fear of God in them that ,oharacteriz-
:d their fathers. And yet, as shall ap•
near, there were in Faraway some rel•
cs of a stern faith.
Hope came out in fine feather, and
toil. They made a blister upon my and. down beside her spinning wheel,
spirit, as well as upon my handsr; I' I can hear the dreary 'buz-z-z of the
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1938.'
although .I have seen ,many grand la-
dies :gowned Jfetr the eyes of "kings, I
have never seen a lovelier 'figure than.
when, that evening, she came tripping
down to the buggy. It was . three
miles to the White Church, and riding
over in the twilight I laid the plan of
my life .before her. She sat a moment
in silence after I had •finished.
I amcin too she re-
marked,
awaY
marked, with a sigh.
'Going away!" I said with some
surprise, for in all my pians I had sec-
retly counted on returning in grand
style to take her ,batik with me.
"Going away, said she decisively.
"It isn't nice for girls to go away
from home," I said.
'It isn't nice for ,boys, either," said
she.
We had come to the church, its op-
en doors and windows all aglow with.
light. I helped her out at the steps,
and. hitched my Horse under the long
shed. We entered together and made
our way through the chattering crowd.
to the little cloak room in one corner.
Elder Whitmarsh arrived in a moment
anti the fiddler, a short, ,stout, stupid
looking man; his fiddle in a blaok box
under this arm, followed 'hint to the
platform that had been cleared of its
pulpit. The stranger stood staring .va-
cantly, at the crowd until the elder
motioned him to a chair, when he ob-
eyed with the hesitating, blind obedi-
ence cd a dog. Then the elder n'iede a
brief ,prayer, and after a. few remarks
flavored with pants, sacred and imme-
morial as the pulpit itself, started a
brief program of entertainment. A
broad smile marked the beginning of
his lighter mood. His manner seemed
to say: Now, ladies and gentlemen,
if you will give good heed, you shall
see I can be witty on occasion."
'Then a young man came to the plat-
form and recited, after which Hope
went forward and sang "The Land o'
the Leal" with such spirit that I can
feel my blood go taster even now as
I think of it, and of that girlish figure
crowned with a glory of fair curls
that felt low upon her waist and ming-
led with the wild pink roses at her
bosom. The fiddler sat ,quietly as if
he heard nothing until she began to
sing, when he turned to look at her.
The elder announced, alter the bal-
lad, that he had brought with him a
wonderful musician who would favor
their with some sacred music. He
used the word "sacred" because he
had observed, I suppose, that certain
of the "hardshells" were looking ask-
ance at the fiddle. There was an awk-
ward moment in which the fiddler
made no move or sign of intellig-
ence, The elder stepped near him and
whispered. ,Getting no response, he
returned to the front of the platform
and said: "We shall first resign our-
selves to social intercourse and the
good things the ladies have 'provided."
Mountains of frosted cake reared
their snowy summits •on a long table,
and the strawberries, heaped in sauc-
ers around them, were like red foot-
hills. P remember that while they
were serving us Hope .and I were in-
troduced to one Robert Livingstone
— a young New Yorker, stopping at
the inn near by, on his way to the big
woods. He was a handsome fellow,
with such a fine air of gallantry and
so trig in fashionable clothes that he
made me feel awkward and uncom-
fortable.
I
have never heard anything more
delightful than that !ballad," he said
to Hope. "You must have your voice
trained—you really must. It will
make a great name for you."
I wondered then why his words
hurt Inc to the soul. Tire castle of my
dreams had 'fallen as he spoke. A
new light came into her face—I did
not know then what it meant.
"Will you let me call upon you be-
fore I leave—may I?" He turned tome
while she stood silent, "I wish to see
your father," he added,
'Certainly," she answered, blush-
ing, "you may come -if you care to
come,"
The musiciaif had begun to thrum
the strings of his violin. We turned
to look at him. He still sat in his
chair, his ear bent to the echoing
chamber of the violin. Soon he laid
his bow to the strings and a great
chord hushed every whisper and died
into a sweet, ,low melody, in which
his thought seemed to be feeling its
way through sombre paths of sound.
The music brightened, the bow went
faster, and suddenly "The 'Girl I Left
Behind Me" came rushing off the
strings,. A look of amazement gath-
ered on the •elder's face and :deepened
into horror. It went from one to an-
other as if it had been a ,dish of ipe-
cac. Ann ]Jane Foster went directly
for her things, and with •a most un-
christian look hurried out into the
night. Half a dozen others followed
her, while the unholy music went on,
its merry echoes rioting in that sacred
room, hallowed with memories of the
hour of conviction, of the day of
mourning, of the coming of the bride
in her beauty,
Deacon Hospur rose and began to
drawl a sort of apology, when the
'Mayer stopped suddenly- and shot an
oath at him. The deacon staggered
,tinder the shoik of it. His whiskers
seemed to lift a .bit like the hair of a
cat under provocation, Then he tried
to speak, but only stuttered helplessly
a moment as if his tongue were os-
cillating between -silence and profan-
ity, and vias,finaily,ptilled down. by his
wife, who had laid - hold of 'his coat
tails. If it had been any .other than
Deacon .1:Ipspur it would have gone.
badly Iktith the musician thenand
there, :but we boys saw his discomfi-
ture with positive gratitude. In a mo-
ment ,all rose, the dishes were gather-
ed up, and many hurried away with
indignant glances at the poor elder,
who was 'busy taking. counsel .with
some of the brethren.
I have never seen a more pathetic
figure .than that of poor Niolc :Goodall
as he sat there thrumming the strings
of which he was a Heaven -born mas-
ter. I saw hien often after that night—
a poor, half-witted creature, who wan -
tiered from inn to inn there in" the
north country, trading music for lion-
pitality. A thoroughly intelligible
sentence never .passed his lips, but he
had a great gilt of eloquence in mu-
sic. Nobody 'knew whence he had
come or any particular of ,his `birth or
training or family. But for his sullen
temper, that !broke into wild, unmean-
ing ,profanity at times, Nick Goodall
would have made fame and •fortune.
II'e stared ,at the thinning crowd as
if be had begun dimly to comprehend
the havoc Ile had wrought Then he
put on his. chat, came down off the
platform, acid shuffled out of theopen
door, his violin in one hand, its box
in the other. There were not more
than a dozen of us who followed hint
into the little churchyard. The moon
was rising, and the shadows of lilac
and rose !bush, of slab and monument
lay long ,across the green mounds.
Standing there between the graves of
the dead he .began to play. I shall nev-
er forget that solemn calling of the
silver string:
"Conte ye 'disconsolate where'er ye
languish."
It was a new voice, a revelation, a
light where darkness had been, to
Hope and to me. We stood' listening
far into the night, forgetful of every-
thing, even :the swift flight of the
hours.
Loud, impassioned chords rose into
the moonlit sky and sank to a taint
whisper of melody, when we could
hear the gossip of the birds in the bel-
fry and under the eaves: trembling
tones of supplication, wailing notes of
longing and regret swept through the
silent avenues of the churchyard,
thrilling us with their eloquence, For
the 'first time we heard the music of
Handel, of +Mendelssohn, of Pagani-
mi, and felt its power, then knowing
neither naive nor theme. Hour by
hour he played on for the mere joy of
it. When we shook hands with the
elder and tiptoed to the buggy he was
Still playing. We drove' slowly and
listened a long way down the road, I
could hear the strains of that ballad,
then new to ate, but now familiar,
growing fainter in' the distance:
O ye'll tak' the high road an' I'll tak'
the low road
An' I'll he in Scotland afore ye;
But me an' me true love will never
meet .again
On the bonnie, bonnie hanks o' Loch
Lomond.
PROFESSIONAL CARDS
1Vfedieal
SEAFORTH CLINIC
Dr. E. A. McMaster, M.B., Gradu-
ate of 'University of Toronto.
D, Colquhoun, M.D., C.M., 'Grad-
uate of 'Dalhousie University, Halifax.
ed
fullyequipped The Clinic isq plp with
complete,and modern x-ray and other
up -oto -date diagnostic and thereeptic
equipment.
Dr. Margaret K, Campbell, M.D„
L.A.B.P., Specialist in Diseases in
Infants and Children, ill be at the
will
Clinic last Thursday in every months
from 31 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 Thursday in
every month from I to 2
What connection it may have had
with the history of poor Nick Good-
all I have often wondered.
As the last note died into silence I
turned to Hope, and she was crying,
"Why are you crying?" I asked, in
as miserable a moment as I have ever
known, 1
"It's the music," she said.
We ,both sat in silence, then, hear-
ing only the creak of the buggy as it
sped over the sandy road. Well ahead
of us I saw a .man who suddenly
turned aside, vaulting over the fence
and running into the near woods,
'The night man!" I exclaimed,
pulling up a moment to observe him.
Then a buggy came in sight, and
,presently we heard a loud "hallo"
from David Brower, who, worried by
our long stay, had come out in quest
of us.
CRAFTIER XIV
Hope's love of music ;became a pas-
sion after that night. Young Mr. Liv-
ingstone, "the city chap" we had mot
at the church, came over next day.,
His enthusiasm for her voice gave as
all great hope of it. David Brower
said he would take her away to the
big city when she w.as older. They
soon decided to send her in Septem-
ber to the big school in Hillsbor-
ough.
"She's got 't' be a lady," said David
Brower, as he drew her into his lap
the day we 'had all discussed the mat-
ter. "She's (learnt everything in the
'rithmetic an' geography en' speller.
I want her t' leant so'methin' more
scientific."
"Now you're talkie'," said "]Uncle
IEi. '"'There's dots o' things 'ye can't
learn ,by cipherin'. Nethin's too ,good
.for Hope,"
"I'd like t' 'know what you mien ex-
pect of her anyway," said Elizabeth
W. C. SPROAT, M.D., F.A.C.S.
Surgery
Phone 90-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 and throat. Office and gesidence
behind Dominion Bank. Office Phone
No, 5; Residence Phone 104.
DR. F. J. BURROWS, ,Office Main
St., Seaforth, over Dominion Bank.
Hours 2-8 and 7 to 8 p,m. and by ap-
pointment. Residence, Godcrich St.,
two doors west of 'United Church.
Phone 416,
DR, F. J. R. FORSTIER— Eye
Ear, Nose and Throat. Graduate in
Medicine, University of Toronto 1897.
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 M each
month from 1.30 p.m. to 5 p.m.
Auctioneer.
GEORGE ELLIOTT, Licensed
kuctioneer 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 Auotiot
eer for Perth and Huron Counties,
Sales Solicited. Terms on Application,
Farm Stock, chattels and real 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 kinds of Insurance risks effect-
ed at lowest rates in 'First -Class,
Companies.
THE McKILLOP
Mutual Fire lusurauce C
HEAD OFFICE—SEAFORTH, Ont.
O'PFI CERS
President, Thomas Moylan, Sea -
forth; Vice President, William Knox,.
Londeaboro; Secretary Treasurer, M
A. Reid, Seaforth.
AGENTS
F. lvtcKercher, R.R.1, Dublin; John,
E. Pepper, R.R.1, Brucefield; E. R. G.
Yarmouth, Brodhagen; James Watt,
Blyth; C. F. Hewitt, Kincardine;
Wm, Yeo, Holmesville,
DIRECTORS
Alex. Broadfoot, Seaforth No. 3;.
James Sholdice, Walton; Wm. Knox,
Londesboro; George Leonhardt,
Bornholm No, 1; Frank MoGregor,
Clinton No. 5; James Connolly, God-
erich; Alex McEwing, Blyth No. 1;
Thomas Moylan, Seaforth No. 5;,
Wnt. R. Archibald, 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.
Brower,
"Yes! an' thet's another secret,"
said he. I tol' D'avid Brower what I
thought 0' your writing thet essay on
bugs in ,pertiokler—an' I tol' 'im what
people were sayin' o' your work in
school,"
(To Be Continued) ..
"1 heard about a man who lived on
onions alone,"
"Anyone who lives on onions
should,"
Auto Salesman I(desperately)a "But,'
naadant, if you take this car we will
put you initials on it free."
Mrs. 'Saver: "But imy husband says
it's not the initial •cost .thatcounts,
but the upkeep."