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The Seaforth News, 1938-12-22, Page 6PAGE SIX • In my second year, at college, Hope went away to ,continue her studies in 'N'ew York, She was to live in the family of John Fuller, :a friend of David, who had left Faraway years before and made his fortun'e there in the big city. Her going ,filled my days with a lingering and pervasive sad- ness, I saw in it sometimes the sha- dow of a heavier lose than Idared to contemplate. She had 'come home once a week from Ogdensburg and I had always had a letter between times. She was ambitious and, I ,fancy, they let her go, so that there should be no danger of any turning aside from the plan of my life, or of hers; for they knew our hearts as well as we knew them and possibly better. We had the parlor to ourselves the evening 'before she went away, and I read her a little hove tale I had writ- ten especially for that occasion. It gave us some chance to discuss the absorbing and forbidden topic of our lives. "He's ton much afraid of her," she said, "'he ought to put his arm about her waist in that love scene." "Like that," I said, suiting the ac- tion to the word, "About like that," she answered. laughing, "and then he ought to say something very, very, nice to her be- fore lie proposes—something about his having loved her for so long—you know." "And how about her?" I asked, my arm still about her waist. "If she really love him," Hope an- swered, "she would put her arms about his neck and lay her head upon his shoulder, so;—and then he might say what is in the story." She was smiling now as she looked up at me. "And kiss her?' "And kiss her," she whispered; and let ane add, that part of the scene was in nowise neglected. "And when he sats: 'will you wait for me and keep me always in your heart?' what should be her answer," I continued. 'Always!" .he said. "Hope. this is our own story," I whispered, "Does it need any further correction?" 'It's ton short—that's all," she an- swered, as nttr lips met again. Just then Uncle Eb opened the door, suddenly. "Tut tut:" he said turning quickly about. ''cone in, Uncle Eb," said Hope, "come right in, we wept to see yon." In :: moment she had caught him by the arm. Don' want `o 'break up the meet - in," said he lauehing. "We don't care if you do know said Hope, "we're not ashamed of it." "Haint got no cause t' 'be," he said. "Go it while ye're young, 'n full 'o vinegar! That's what. I say every time. It's. the best fun there is. I thought I'd like t' hev ye both come up t' my room, .fer a minute, 'fore yer mother 'n father come .back," he said in a low tone that was almost a whisper. Then he shut one eye, suggestively, and beckoned with his head, as we followed him up the stairway to the little rodm in which he slept. He knelt by the bed and pulled out the old skin .covered trunk that David Brower had ;given him soon after we came. He felt a moment for the key hole, his hand trembling, and then I helped him open the trunk. From under that sacred suit of broadcloth, worn only an the grandest occasions, he fetched a bundle about the size of a man's head. It was tied in a big red handkerchief. We were bothsit- ting on the floor beside him. "Heft it," be whispered. I did so and found it heavier than I had expected. , "What is it?" I asked. "Spondoolfx," he whispered. Then he untied the bundle -a close tracked hoard of bankbilis with some pieces of gold and silver at the bottom. "Haint never hed no use fer •i't," he said as he drew out a layer . of green- •baoks arid spread then with tremb- ling fingers. Then he began counting therm slowly and carefully. "There!".he whispered, when at length he had counted a hundred dol- lars, "There Hbpe! take thet an' put it away in yer wallet. Might come handy when ye're 'way fr'm hum." She kissed him tenderly, "Put it 'n yer wallet an' say nothin' —not a word t' nobody," ;he said, Then he counted - over a like amount for me. ' Say nothin'" he said, looking up at me over his spectacles. "Yell hev t' spile a suit a' ,clothes putty often if them fellers keep a fightin' uv ye alt the time." Father and mother were comping in below- stairs and, hearing thein, we helped Uncle Eb tie up his bundle and stow it away, Then we went down to meet them, Next morning we bade Hope good - by at the cars and returned to our home with a sense of loss that, for long, lay heavy upon us all. CHAPTER XXVII Uncle Eb and David were away buying cattle, half the week, but ,Elizabeth Brower was always at home to look after my comfort. She was up betimes in the morning and singing at her work long before I was out of bed. When the breakfast was near ready she came to my door with a call so full of cheerfulness and good nature it was the best thing in the day, Often, at night I have known her to conic into my rooni when I was lying awake with some hard problem, to see that I was properly covered -or that my window was not open too far. As we sat alone together, of an evening, I have keen her listen for hours while I was com- mitting the 'Odes of Horace with a curiosity that finally gave way to res- ignation. Sometimes she would look over my shoulder at the printed page and try to discern some meaning in it. V,'hen Uncle Eb was with us he would often sit a long time his head turned attentively as the lines came rattling off my tongue. Cnr'us talk!" he said, one evening, as I paused a moment, while he cross- ed the room for a drink of water. Doti seem t' make no kind d sense. I can make out a word here 'n there but fer good, sound, common sense I call it a purty thin crop." Hope wrote ine every week .for a time, .i church choir had offered her a place coati after she went to the big city, She cause home intending to sur- prise us all, the first summer but un- fortunately, I had gone away in the woods with a party of surveyors and missed her, We were a month in the wilderness and came out a little west of Albany where I took a boat for New York to see Hope. I came down the South River between the great smoky cities, on either side of it, one damp and chilly morning, The noise, the crowds, the immensity of the town, appalled me. At John Fuller's 1 found that Hope had gone home and while they tried to detain me longer 1 came back an the night boat of the same day, I did not see her until the summer preceding niy third and last year in college—the faculty having allowed Inc to take two years in one. Her teeters had come less frequently and when she came I saw a gramd young lady of fine manners, her beauty shaping to an ampler mold, her form straighten- ing to the dignity of womanhood. At the depot our stands were cold and trembling with excitement—nei- ther of us, I fancy, knowing quite how far to go in our greeting; Our correspondence had been true to the promise made her mother --there had not been a word of love in it—"only now and then a suggestion of our tender feeling, We hesitated' only ,for the briefest moment, Then I putt my arum about her neck and kissed her, "I am so glad to see you," she said. Well, she was c'harumin:g and 'beauti- THE SEAFORTH NEWS ful, but 'different, and probably not more different than was I. She was no longer the laughing, simple mannered child ,of Faraway, whose heart was as one's hand before him in the day- light. She ,:had now a bit of the wo- !non's reserve—cher' prudence, her skill In hiding the things of the heart. I loved her more than ever, but same- how I felt it hopeless—that she had .grown out of my life: She was nnrah in request aiiong the people of Hills- borough, and we went about a goad deal and had many callers. But we had little time to ourse'l'ves. She seem- ed to avoid that, and had much to say Of the grand young men who came, to call on her in the great •city. Anyhow it all hurt me to the soul and a even: robbed me of my sleep. A better lova er'tlhan 3 woulel'have made an' end of ,dallying and 'got at the .truth, come what' .night. But i was of the 'Purit- ans, and not of the Cavaliers, and my way was that which God had marked for •me, albeit S must own no man had ever a keener eye for a lovely woman or more heart to please. her.. A mighty ,pride had..come to me and I ,had Teth- er have ,thrown my •heart to vultgres than see' it an unwelcome offering, And 3 was .quite out of :courage with Hope; she, I dare say, was as much out of patience with ,me. She 'returned in the late summer and I went :back to my work at col- lege in a "hopeless fashion that gave way'under the whip of a strong will. I made myself as contented as 'pos- sib'le. 4 knew all the pretty girls anal went about with some of them to the entertainments of the college season. At last came the long looked for day of my graduation—the end of my stu- dent life, The streets ,of the town were throngell, every student having 'the .college colors in his ooat lapel. The little company of graduates trembled with fright as the people crowded in to the church, whispering and fann- ing themselves, in eager anticipation. As the former looked from the two. side pews where they sat, many fam- iliar faces greeted them—the faces of fathers and mothers aglow with the inner light of pride and pleasure; the faces of many they loved come to claim a share in the ,glory of that day. I found my own, I remember, but none of them :gave me as much help as that of Uncle 'Eb, However I might fare, none would feel .the pride nr disgrace of it more 'keenly than he. I shall never forget how he turned his head to catoh every word when I ascended the platform. As I warmed to my, argument I could see 'him nudging the arm of David, who sat beside him, as if to say, "There's the boy that came over the hills with,me in a pack 'basket." When I stopped a moment, groping for the next word, he leaned forward, embracing his knee, firmly, as if intending to drain off a' boot. It was all time assistance he could give me. When the exercises were aver I found Uncle Eb by the front door of the church waiting for nue, "Willie, ye done noble!" said he, "Did my very best, 'Uncle Eb," I replied. ' Liked it grand—I did, sartin." "Glad you likes! it, Uncle Eb." ' Showed great larnlmi', \Vho was the man 'at give out the pictur's?" He meant the president who had conferred time degrees. I spoke the emptied of its young, and even as they looked the shb;dow of old age t must have ,fallen suddeelily lbefore them. I' knew how they would go baok into 'drat lonely room and slow, while the clock went on with its ticking, Eliza- ; beth would sit down and cover her face for a moment, while David would retake haste to take up his chores, We sat' in silence a long time after the train was off, a mighty sadiress holding our ,tongues. Uncle Eb, who, had never ridden a long joureey on the cars before, had put'on his .grand suit of 'broadcloth: The 'day was hot and dusty, and before we had gone far•'he was sadly soiled. But a suit ire- ver gave him any worry, once it was on. He sat calmly, holding his .knee in his hands and looking out of the open window, a squint in his eyes that stood for some high degred of interest in the scenery. "What do you think of this coun- try?" I •inlqu'ired. "Loolks purty fair," said he, as he brushed his face with his handileer- chief and coughed to clear his .throat of the dust,•'bot 'taint quite so pleas- ant ,to the taste as some other (parts o' the country. I rather liked the 'flavor of Saint Lawrence all through; but Jefferson is a little gritty:" He put down the window as lie spoke. "A leetle tobaccerill improve it some," he added, as his hand :went down for 'tate old silver box. ' The way these cars dew rip along! Consarned if it ain't 'like 'flyin'I Kind o' makes me feel like a bird." 'The railroacl was then not a_famil; iar thing in the north country. The bull in the fields had not yet come to an understanding of its right, and was frequently tempted into argument with a :locomotive, Bill Fountain, who came ottt of a back ,township, one day had even tied his faithful hound to the rear platform. Our train came to a 'long stop for wood and water near midday and then we opened the lunch ;basket that mo- ther had given u's, 'Neighbor," said a solemn faced man, who sat in front of us, "do you think the cars are ag'in the Bible? Do you think a Christian orter ride on 'em?" "Sartin," said Uncle lb, "Less the constable's after him—then I think he orter be on a 'balky hoss." We got to Albany in the evening, just in time for the night boat, 'Uncle Elm was a sight in his dusty broad- cloth, when we got off the cars, and I' know my appearance could not 'have been ;prepossessing. Once we were aboard the boat and had dusted our clothes and bathed our , hands and faces we were in better spirits. 'Conearn it!" said 'Uncle Eb, as we left' the.washroom, "le's have a dont good supper. 1'1'1 stan' treat" 'Canes a leetle- bit high," the .said, as he paid ,the bill, 'but I don' care if it does, 'bore we left I says t' myself, Uncle Eb,' says I, you go night in fer a good time an' don' ye count the pennies. Everybody's a right t' be reckless once in seventy-five year.'" We went to our stateroom a little after nine. I remember the berth's had not been made up, and removing our boots and,coats we lay down upon the bare mattresses, Event then I had a lurking fear that we might be violat- ing some rule of steamboat etiquette, When I went to New York before I had dozed all night in the big cabin A dim light came through the shut- tered door that opened upon the din- ing saloon where the rattle of dishes for a time put away the possibility of sleep. "I'11 ,be awful glad t' see Hope," said Uncle Eb, as he lay gaping, "Guess I'll be happier to see her than she will to see me," I said. 'What put thatinyer head?" Uncle Eb inquired. "'Fraid we've got pretty, far apart," said I. ' Shame on ye, Bill," said the old gentleman, ' Lf thet's so ye ain't done right. Hedn't orter let a girl like Chet git away from ye -••nth' ain't another like her in this world." "I know it,". I said, "but I can't help it. Somebody's cut me out, Uncle Eb." "'Tain't so," said he .emphatically. 'Ye want t' prance right up t' her," "I'nm not afraid of any woman," 1 said, with a ,great air of bravery, 'but if she •don't care for .me I ought not to throw myself at her." 'Jerusalem!" said 'Uncle Kb, rising up suddenly, "what 'hev I gone an' dont?" He jumped out of his berth quickly and in the dim light I could see iiin reaching for several 'big sheet of pap- er adhering to the ;back of his shirt and trousers. T- went quickly to h.is assistance and began stripping off the broad sheets which, covered with some strongly adhesive substance, had Jaid a 6rnm 'ho'1d upon hint. I rang' the bell and ordered a light. "Cortsarn its" said 'Uncle Kb, as we plasters?" said Uncle Eb, quite out of: patience. "Pieces. of bx, wn paper, covered with -West India .molasses, I should. name, "Deceivin' looking man, amt he; Seen him often, but never took no pertickler notice of 'him 'before." "How deceiving?" I inquired. "Talked so kind of plain," he rep- lied. 'I could understand hint as easy as though he'd been swappin' bosses. But when you got up, Bill! why, you jes' riz right up in the air an' there couldn't no dun fool tell what you was talkin' ''bout." \Whereat I concluded that Miele Eb's humor was as deep as it was kindly, but 1 have never been quite sure whether the remark was a can- plintent or a bit of satire. CHAPTER XXVIII The folks of Faraway have been carefully B rudely ;pictured, but pie look my own person, since I grew to the stature of manhood, I have left wholly to the imagination of the read- er. I will wager he knew long since what manner of man I was and has' treasured me to' the fraction of an inch, and 'knows even the color of my hair and eyes from having—been so long its my company. When 'Uncle Fib and I took the train for New 'York that summer day in 1!860, some fifteen years after we came clown Paradise road with the' dog and wagon and pack basket, my head, which, in that far day, came only to the latitude of his trouser pocket, had now mounted six incheti. above his own. That is all I can say here on that branch of my subject. was leaving to seek my fortune in the big city; 'Uncle Kb was ,off for a'holi day and to see Hope and bring her home far a short visit. I remember with what sadness I looked back that. morning at mother and father as they stood by the gate slowly waving Omit' handkerchiefs. Our home at last was THURSDAY, DEC. 22, 1938 think," said I. "West Iniy molasses!" he exclaim- ed. "By mighty! That incites ane hot -1 ter'n a pancake, What's it on a bed fee?" To catch ,flies," I answered, An' 'ketched me," said 'flncie ,Kb,. as he !flung the sheet he, was examin- ing into a corner. "My exfry .good suit, tool" He ,took off his trousers, then, hold- ing thetas up to the light. "They're spilt," said he mournfully, "Hed 'em for more'n 'tett year, too." "That's 'long .enough," I suggested. "Got kind o' 'cached to 'em," ,he said, !coking down ,at then and ru'b- bing his chin :thoughtfully. Then we had a good laugh, •"You can put on the other suit," I suggested, 'and ,when we get ,to the city weal have these fixed." "Leetle sorry; though," said he, "cuz that other suit `don' lock ' reel grand. This here one has been purty —party scrumptious in .its day -if . I do say it," "You look good enough in ,anything that's respectable," I said. , "Kindo' 'wanted to look a leetle ' extry good, as ye might say," said Surgery Uncle Ell, groping in his big carpet 'bag, "Hope, she's terrible proud, an' if they should lhev a 'leetie -fmddlin' an', . PROFE'SSIONAL CARDS Medical SEAFORTH CLINIC Dr. E. A. ,McMaster, M,B,, Gradu- ate of University of Toronto. J. D. Calquhoun, M.D:, CMI., Grad- uate of Dalhousie University, Halifax. The Clinic is fully equipped with complete .and modern x-ray and other up-to-date diagnostic and 'thereuptic equipment. Dr. Margaret X. 'Campbell, M,D,, L.A.B.P., Specialist in Diseases in 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 Th'roat, 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' every 'month from 1 to 2 p.m, W. C. SPROAT M.D., F.A.C.S. ,dancin' some night we'd want t' Ibe' as stylish as any on 'em. B'lieve I'1'1 go 'n git me a 's;pang, bran' new suit, anyway, 'fore we go alp t' Fuller's," As we neared the city we both 'be- gan feeling a bit doubtful as to whe- ther we were quite ready for the ord- eal. "I ought to," I said. "Those I'm wearing aren't quite stylish enough, I'm afraid." "They're han'soins," said Uncle Eb looking up over his spectacles, "hitt mebbe they ain't just as splendid as they'd orter be How much. money did David give ye?" . "One hundred and fifty dollars," I said, thinking it a very grand sum indeed, "'Tain'te nough," said Uncle lb, looking up at me again. "Leastways not if ye're goin' t' 'hev a new suit. I want ye •t' .be spick an' span." He picked up. his trousers then, and took out his fat leather wallet. "Lock the door," he whispered. "Pop goes the weasel!" he exclaim- ed, good naturedly, and then he be- gan counting the bills. "I'nm not going to take any more of your money, 'Uncle E'b," I said. '"Tut, tut!" said he, "don't ye try t' interfere. Wha.td d' ye think they'll Charge in the city fer a reel, splendid suit?" He stopped and looked up at me. "Probably as much as fifty dollars," I answered. "Whew -w-!" he whistled. "Purty steep! It is sartin." "Let nue go as I am," said 1. "Tithe enough to have a new suit when I've earned it," ",Nall," he said, as he continued counting, "I guess you've earnt it al- ready. Ye've studied hard an' tuk first honors an' yer .goin' where folks are purty midcllin' proud'n haughty. I wan ye t' !be a reeler high stepper, with a nice, slick coat. There,' he whispered, as he 'handed me the money, "take Chet! An' don't ye never tell 'at I g'in it t' ye," I cotild nof' speak for a little while, as I took the money, for thinking of the many, many things this grand old man had done for me. "Do ye think these boots '11 do?" he asked, as he held up to -the light the pair he had taken off in the evening. "They look all right," I said. 'Ain't got no decent squeak to 'ern now, an' they seem t' look kind o' clumsy. H•ow're your'n?" he arcked. I got them au t .from ander the berth and the inspected them care- fully deciding in the etitl' they ,would pass muster. The steward had made i up our berth, when he cause, and lit our room for us, O•ur feverish discussion of attire had .carried its :far past mid- night, when we decided to go to 'hed. "S'pose we mustn't talk •1' no strangers there 'n 'New York," said Untie Kb, as he hay •clown, "I've read 'n the Tribune how they'll purtend t' •be friends an' then grab yer money an' run like Sam •Hill. If I meet any o' them fellers they're.goin' t' find me putty middlin'poor ,comp'ny." We were up and on deck at day- light, viewing the Palisades. The lonely feeling of ,an alien hushed us into silence as we came to the noisy and thickening river ,craft at the up- per end of the :city. Countless w.intlow panes were shining in time morning sunlight. This thought was in my mind that somewhere in the innumer- able host on either side was the one clearer to Me than any other. We'•in- quired our way -at : the dock anal walked .to French's Hotel, on Print- ing' House Square. After 'breakfast we went and ordem'•edl all the grand new things' we had planned to ,get. They would not be ready for 'two clays, and after talking it over we decided to go and make a short call. Hope, who had been up and look 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 :ues'idence behind Dominion 'Bank. Office Phone No. 5; Residence Phone 104. DR. F. J. BURROWS, Office Main St„ Seaforth, over Dominion Bank: Hours 2-6 and 7 to 8 p.m. and by ap- pointment. Residence; Goderich St., two doors west of lJnited Church. Phone 46. DR, F. J. R. FORSTER— Eye Eat', Nose and Throat. Graduate in Medicine, University of Toronto 14497,. 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 eac}t month from :1.30 p.m, to °5 p.m. Auctioneer. GEORGE ELLIOTT, Licensed 'uctioneer for the County of Huron, Arrangements can be made for Sale Date at The Seaforth News. Charges moderate and satisfaction guaranteed F. W. AIIRENS, Licensed Auetiot eer for Perth and Huron Counties, Sales Solicited, Terms on Application, Farm Stook, chattels and rd'al estate property, R. R. No. 4, Mitchell. Phone 634 r 6. Apply at this office, WATSON & REID REAL ESTATE AND INSURANCE AGENCY (Successors to Jamas Watson) MAIN ST.,*SEAFORTH, ONT. All kinds of I surance risks effect- ed at lowest rates in First -Class Companies. • • THE McKILLOP Mutual Fere InsuranceC� HEAD OFFICE—SEAFORTH, Ont. OFFICERS President, Thomas Moylan, Sea. forth; Vice President, William Knox, Londesboro; Secretary Treasurer, M A. Reid, Seaforth. AGENTS F, Mckercher, R.R.d, Dublin; John. E. Pepper, R,R.1, Brucefield; E. R. G. Jarmouth, Brodhagen; James Watt, Blyth; C. F. Hewitt, Kincardine; Wm. Yeo, H•olmesvil•le. DIRECTORS Alex. Broadfoot, Seaforth No. .3; James Sholdice, Walton; Wm. Knox, Londesboro; George Leonhardt, Bornholm No. 1; Frank McGregor, Clinttn No, 5; James Connolly, God- erich; Alex McEwing, Myth No, 1; Thomas Moylan, Seaforth No, 5; 6Vm, 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. ing for us, a long time, gave a greet- ing so hearty we began ,to get tli.e ' first feeling of comfort since landing. She was ,put out about our having had :breakfast, 'I remember, and said we must have our things (brought there at once, "'T shall have to stay at the hotel awhile," I said, •thinking of ,the new clothes. "Why," said 'Mrs. Faller, "this girl has been busy ai week fixing your rooms and planning for you. We could not hear of your ,going else- where. It would be downright ingtat- itude to her." YTo Be Continued)