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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Seaforth News, 1933-06-29, Page 6PAGE SIX THE SEAFORTH NEWS. THURSDAY, JUNE 29 1931 x �,m�,,f r t��"rt�✓.+ke ��.%;�' 1}�a it -;t 1., n. / ` $ , 4 '.TMv •% •s, ll..,:riltr 5 ,klfil '.'wZ' eatiradasuciasicsainsensenicastenscaistactemicies If'l'!i'v�7. lit' The little man, when thus cross yo' hurt, M'Adam? Eh, bu yng Xenen ir, often met Owd Bob, who had the free run of the •farm. 'On these occasion's 'he-' passed discreetly by; for, though he was no coward, yet it is had, single-handed, to, at- tack a Gray Dog of Kenmuir; while the dog 'trotted soberly on his way, Only a steely glint in the big gray eyes betraying his knowledge of the presence of his foe. As surely, how- ever, as the little man, in his desire •to spy out the nakedness of the land, strayed off the public path, so surely a gray figure, seeming to. spring from out the blue, would come fiercely, silently driving down on him; and he would turn and run fdr his life, amid the uproarious jeers of any of the farm-hands who were witness to the encounter. On these occasions David vied with (Mammas in facetiousness at his fath- er's expense. "Good on yo', little unl" he roared from behind a wall, on one such oc- currence. 'Bain't he a runner, neither?" yelled Tammas, not to be outdone. "See on skip it—ho! ho!" "Dook to his knees a-wantblin'!" from the undutiful son in ectasy. "An' It'd knees like yon, I'd wear petti- coats." As he spoke a swinging box on the ear nearly knocked the young .reprobate down. "D'yo' think God gave you a dad for you to jeer at? 'Tough to be ashamed o' yo'self. Serve yo' right if he does thrash yo' when yo' get 'home." And David, turning round, found James Moore close behind him, his heavy eyebrows lowering 4rver his eyes. Luckily, M'Adam had not disting- uished his son's voice among the oth- ers. But David feared he had; for on the following morning the little man said to him: "'David, ye'll come hame immediate- ly after school to -day." "Will 1?" said David pertly. 'Ye will." ",Why?" "Because I tell ye to, ma lad,"; send that was all the reason he would give. Had he told the simple fact that he wanted help to drench a "husk ing" ewe, things might have gone differently. As it was, David turned away defiantly down the hill. The afternoon wore on. Schooitinle. was long over; still there was no David. The little man waited at the door of the Grange, fuming, leop,ping from one kg to the other, talking to Red Wull, who lay at his feet, his head on his paws, like a tiger waiting for his prey: i.kt length he could restrain himself no longer; and started running down the hill. his heart burning with in- dignation. "Wait till we lay hands' on ye, ma lad," he muttered as he ran. "We'll warm ye, we'll teach ye." At the edge of Stony Bottom he, es always, left Red Well, Crossing it himself, and rounding 'Langholm Ho'w, he espied James 'Moore, David, and 'Owd Bob walking away from hien and he the direction of Ken- neir. The .gray dog and David were playing together, wrestling, racing, and rolling, The •!boy had never a thought for his father, The little man ran up .beh•ind thetit, unseen and unheard, his feet scaly pattering o:n' the grtiss. His hand had fallen on David's shoulder before the boy had guessed his approach. 'Did 1 bid ye come hame after school, David?" he asked, concealing his heat beneath a suspicious suavity. '9'!,faybe, Did I say I would tome?" The pertness of tone and words, alike, 'fanned his father's resentment into a blaze. Ina burst of passion he lu'n'ged forward at the boy with his stick: But as he s•ntote,'a gray whirl- wind struck him. fait- one the cheat, and: ire fell like a snapped stake, and lay, half stunned, with a dark muzzle an in'c'h from his throat. "Git back, Bob " shouted James Moore, hurrying u'p. "Git back, I I a'tn sorry. He thought yo' were gain' for to strike the lad'," !David had now run isp, and he, too,. bent over his father with a very scared face. 'Aire yo' hurt, feyither? he asked, his voice trembling. The little mac rose unsteadily to his feet and shook off his supporters. His face was twitching, and he stood, all dusetabegrimed, looking at his son. "Ys're content, aiblins, noo ye've seen yer father's gray head bowed in the dust," he said. "'Twee an accident," pleaded James Moore, "But I am sorry, He thought yo' were goin' to beat the lad," 'ISo I was—so I will," "If ony's beat it should be ma Bob here th'o'' he no'b''but thought he was doin' right. An' yo' were aff the path." The little man looked at his enemy, a sneer on his face. "Ye canna thrash hint for doin' what ye bid hint. Set yer dog on me, if ye will, but dinna beat him when he does yer biddin'!" •'1 did not set him on yo', as you know," the Master replied warmly. IM Aedatn shrugged his shoulders, "I'll no argie wi' ye, James Moore," he said, "I'!l leave you and wheat ye call yer conscience to settle that. My business is not wi ' you --!David!" turning to his son. IA stranger might well have mis- taken the identity of the boy's father. For he stood now, holding the Mas- ter's arm; while a few paces above theme was the little man, pale but de- termined, t'he expression 'on his face betraying his consciousness of the irony of the situation. "Will ye come Name wi' me and have it non, or stop wi' him and Wait till ye get it?" he asked the boy. '•\['Adam, I'd like yo' to—" "None n' that, James Moore.— David, what d'ye say?" David looked up into his protector's face. "Yo'dbest go wi' your feyther, lad," said the Master at last, thickly. The boy hesitated, and clung tighter to the shielding arae; then he, walked slowly over to his father. A bitter smile spread over the lit- tle man's face es he marked this new test of the boy's obedience to the other, "To obey his frien' he foregoes the pleasure o' disobeyin' his father," he muttered. "Noble!" Then he turned homeward, and the boy followed in his footsteps. Janes Moore and the gray dog «food looking after them. "I know yo'll not pay off yer spite agin me on the lad's head, McAdam," he called, almost appealingly. . "I'll do ma duty, thank ye, James Moore, wi'oot respect o' persons," the little man cried back, never turning. Father and son walked away, one behind the other, like a ,man and his dog, and there was no word said he- tween them. Across the Stony Bot- tom, Red Wull, scowling with .bared teeth at David, joined' them. Together the three went up the hill to the Grange. In the kitchen M'Adam turned. "Noo, I'nr gaein' to ,gie ye the gran'est thrashin' ye iver dreamed of. Tak' aff yer coat!" The boy obeyed, and stood up in ,hie thin shirt, his face white and set as a statue's. Red 'WWI seated hint - elf rein' his haunches close by, his ears pricked, licking his lips, all at- tention, The little man suppled the great ash -plant in his hands and raised it. IBrt the expression on the 'boy's face arrested his arm. 'Say ye're sorry and I'll let yer aff easy." "I'!! not." "'One stair chance—yer la'sit! Say yer 'shamed o' yerselfl" "I'nm not." IThe little main brandished his cruel, white weapon, and Red Wu1l shifted a little to obtain a (better view. "Git on wi' it," ordered. David angrily. teed yo'!" He bent over the prostrate The little man raised the stick again )ligture, propping it up anxiously, "Are and—threw it, into the farthest corer of the room. IIt fell wish a rattle on the floor, and MIAdam turned away. "Ye're ,the piti'fu'est son iver a mean had," he cried' brokenly,; "!Gin a'' m'an's sots dilute hand to him, whs. can ' he expect to? no one; Ye're ondootiful, ye're disr'tspectfu', ye're ` moist ilka thing ye shouldna be; there's but ae thing I thocht ye were not—a cow- ard. And as to that, ye've no the pluck to say ye'ro sorry when, God lesows, ye might be. I canna thrash ye this day. But ye shall ,qac nae m;air to school. , I send ye there to learn. Yell not learn—ye've learnt naethin' except disobedience to Inc -- ye ye shall slop at home and work," His father's rare emotion, his brok- en' voice and working face, moved David as all the stripes and jeers had failed to do. His conscience smote him. For the first' time in leis life it dimly, dawned' on him that, perhaps, his father, too, had. some ,ground for complaint; that, per'ha'ps, 'he was not a good son'. He hale turned. "Feyther—" 'tGit . oat o' me sight!" M'A'diann cried. ,And the boy turned. and went, QFDA!PTEIR VII. Thenceforward David .buckled down to work at home, and in one point only father and son resembled—industry. A drunkard McAdam was but a drone, no, The boy worked at the .Grange with tireless, indomita'b'le energy; yet he, could never satisfy his father. The little man would stand) a sneer on his face and his thin lips conteanp- tuously curled, and •flout rite lad's brave labors. "Is he no a gran' worker, Wullie? 'Tis a pleasure to watch him, leis hands in: his pockets, his eyes turned heavenward!" as the 'boy snatched' a momen't's hard-earned rest. "You and I, 'Wullie, we'll brak' oorse'l's slavin' for him while he looks on and Jeffs." And so on, the whole day through, week in, week out; till he sickened with weariness of it all. In his darkest hours David thought sometimes to run away. He was mis- erably alone on the cold bosom of the world, 'The very fact that he was the son' of his father isolated him in tele ID'aleland. Naturally of a reserved dis- position,'he had no single friend out- side Kenmuir. And it was only the thought of his friends there that with- held hint. He could not bring •himself to part from them; they were all he had. in the world. So he worked on at the Grange, miserably, doggedly; taking blows and abuse alike in burning silence. But ev- ery evening. when work was ended, he stepped off to his other erose be- yond the Stony !Bottom, And on ,Sun- days and holidays—for of these latter he took, Masking, what he knew was his clue—all day long, from cock- crowing to the going down of the sun, he would pass at •Keneniur. In this one matter the boy evee invincibly stub- born. Nothing his father could say or do sufficed to break him of the habit. 'H'e endured everything with' w"hite- lipped, silent doggedness, and still held on his way. Once past the Stony Bottom, he threw his troubles behind hint with a courage that did him honor. Of all the people at Kenmuir two only ever dreamed the whole depth of his un- happiness, and that not through D'av- ire, James Moore suspected something of it all, for he knew more of MAdam than did the others. 'While !Owd Bob knew it as did no one else. He could tell it from the touch of the boy's hand on his head; and the story was writ large upon his face for a dog to read.' And he would follow the lad about with a compassion in his sad gray eyes greater than words. ;David night well compare his gray friend at Keom uir with that other at the Grange, The Tailless Tyke had now grown into ae immense, dog, heavy of muscle and huge of bone. A great bull head; undershot jaw, square and lengthy and terrible;! vicious, yellow -gleaming eyes; cropped' ears; and an expression incomparably savage. His coat was a tawny, lion like yellow, short harsh, dense; and his back, running up front shoulder to - loins, ended abruptly in the knob -like tail. He looked like the devil of a dogs' hell. And his reputa- tion was as bad as his looks. He never attacked unprovoked; but a challenge was never ignored. and he was greedy of in,uits. Already he had nigh killed Rob Saunderson`s cnllie, 'Shep; Jcm !Burton's Monkey fled incontinently at the sound of his approach; while he had even fought a round with that re- doubtable trio, the Vexer, Venus and VanTromp, Nor, in the matter of war, did he confine himself to his own kind. His huge strength and indomitable cour- age made him the ]Hatch of almost anything that moved, Long Kirby once threatened• hint with a broom- stick; the smith never did it again \S,lhile in the B'ord'er Ram he attacked Big Sell, the Squi're's .underkeeper, with such murderous fury, that took all the men in, the roars to. pull him off. 1'lore than once had lie arid Owd Slob 'essayed to wipe out mutual side- mories,,'Red 'Wull, in this "ease only, the aggressor. As yet, however, while they fenced a moment for that deadly throat -grip, the value of which each knew so well, "James Moore hall al- ways seized the chalice to intervene, "IThtrt's right,, hide hint ahint yer .petticoats;" sneered MiAdann on one of these occasions. "Hide? II•t's not be him I'll hide, I wares you,. McAdam,"' the Master an swerved grittily, as he stood, twirling his good oalc stick between the would- be duellists. Whereat there was 'aloud laugh at the little matf's expense. 1t seemed as if there were to be other points of rivalry between the two than memories. For, in the matter of his own business—the hall of sheep! --(Red Wull bid fair to he second only throughout the Dalelaml to the Gray Dog of Kenmuir. Aticl •'\'('A'da'm was patient and painstaking in the training of his Wullie in a manner to aston1ish David. It1 would have been touching, had it nut been so unnatural in view of his treatment of his own ;blood, to watch the tender carefulness with which the little man moulded the dog beneath his hands. After a proan- isin!g display he would stand, nabbing his palms together, as near cotntent' as ever he was. "Weel dome, Wullie! Weel done, !Bide a wee and w'e'll show 'em :a thing or two, you and I, Wullie. " 'The warld's wrack we share alt, The werstie and the care ;o't,' For it's you aitd I alane, lad," And the dog would trot up to hint, place his great forepaws on his elhoulders, and stand them with his great head over- topping his master's, his ears back, 'and ebenip tail vibrating. You saw them at their best when thus together, displaying each .his one soft side to the other, (From the very first David and Red Wull were open enemies: under the circumstances, indeed, nothing else was possible, 'Sometimes the great dog would follow on the lad's heels with surly, greedy eyes, never leaving him from sunrise to sundown, till David could hardly hold his hands. So natters went on for a never-end- ing year. Then there caste a climax, 'One evening. on a day throughout which Red Wull had clogged him thus hungrily, David, his work finished, went to pick up his •coat, which he ,had left hard by. On it lay Red Wull. "Git off eta coat!" the boy ordered angrily, marching up. But the great dog never stirred: he lifted a lip to Showa fence of white, even teeth, and seemed to sink lower in the -ground; his head on his paws, his eyes in his forehead, "Conte and take itl" he seemed to say. Now what, between piaster and dog David had endured almost more than he could bear that day. "Yo' won't, won't yo', 'girt brute!" he shouted, and bending, snatched a corner of the coat and attempted to jerk it away. At that, Red 'Wull rose, shivering, to his feet, and with a low gurgle, sprang at the boy. !David, quick as a Rash, dodged, canna thole.' it. I-Ia' ye no heart? lie asked, unconscious of the irony of 'tine, question. "As ranch as some, 1 reckon," Da- vid ]nn:tteredd.. "Eh, what's that? Whet d'ye say?" `Ye may thrash nue till ye're blind; .ancl it's noh'but yer duty; but if only one' dams ' d much las to look at yer !Wullie ye're mad,'' the !boy answered bitterly, And with that he turned aw- ay defiantly and openly in the direc- tion of Kenmuir, ,M"Ad ne made a .step forward, and then stop!ped, ''I'll see ye agin, ma lad, this even - i0"," he cried with creel significance, tI doot but ya'll be too drunk 'to see two—eecep.t, 'appen, your bottle,' the boy ehoti'ted ,back; and swaggered down the hill, 'A•t .Kenmuir that night the marked aired particular ,kindttess of Elizabeth Moore was too match for the over- s'treilg lad; Oivercotne by the coutrats of her sweet' nro'therliness, he b'urs't into a storms of invective against his father, his home, his life—everything, 1"Dlon't 'ee, Davie, don't 'ee, deariei" cried Mrs. Moore, much distressed. /And taking him to her she, .talked to The great sobbing boy as though he !were a chit. Alt length he lifted his face and looked up; and, seeing the whibe, wan countenance of his dear co'nsforter, was struck ' with tender re- morse that he had given way and pained her, who 'looked so frail and thin herself. (Hee mastered himself with an effort; and, for the rest of the evening, was his usual cheery self. He teased M'ag- gie into tears; chaffed stolid little An drew; and bantered .Sam'( 'Todd until that generally impassive man threat- ened to bash his snout for him. Yet it was with a great swallowing- at wallowingat his throat, that, later, he turned down the slope to home. lames Moore and Parson Leggy ac- companied hint to the bridge over the !Wastrel, and stood a while watching 'as he disappeared into the summer night. "Yon'e a good lad," said the Mas- ter half to himself. "Yes," the parson replied; "I al- ways thought there was good in the bay, if only his father'd give him a chance. And look at the way Owd 'Bo'b 'there follows hie;i. There's not another soul outside Kenmruir he'd do that for." "Ay, sir," said the Master. "Bob knows a neon when he sees one." "tile does," acquiesced the other. '"And by the by, James, the talk in the village is that you've settled not to run him for the Cup, Is that so?" The 'Master nodded. "'It is, sir. 'They're ai'11 mad I should, bust II nun cross 'est. They say he's reached his prince—and so he has o' his (body, but !tot o' this brain. !And a sheep-dog—unlike other dogs—is not at his 'best till 'his brain is at its best—and that takes a while developin', sante as in neon, I reck'n." 'Well, well," said the parson, pull- ing out a 'favorite phrase, "waiting's Winning—waiting's 'winning." hent, and picked up an ugly stake, ly- David :slipped up into 'Isis room and ing at his feet. Swinging around, all into !bed unseen, -e he !hoped. Alone in a moment, he dealt his antagonist with the darkness,'he allowed himself a mighty buffet on the side of the eche rare relief 'of tears; and at length head. ;Dazed with the blow, the greatlfell asleep. He awoke to find this dog fell; then, recovering himself, father s'tan'ding at his !bedside. The with a terrible, deep roar he sprang again. 'Then it must have gone hard with the boy, fine -grown, muscular young giant though he was. For Red \Vuti was now in the first bloom of that great strength which earned him afterward an undying notoriety in the land. As it chanced, however, M'Adam had watched the scene from the kitch- en. And now he came hurrying out of the house; shrieking commands and curses at the combatants. As Red Wull sprang, he innterposed between the two, head back and eyes flashing. .His small person received the full shook of the charge. He staggered, but recovered, and in an imperative voice ordered the dog to heel. 'Then he turned on David, seized the stake front his hand, and• 'began fpri- atis'ly belaboring the boy. "I'll teach ye to strike=a p•uir— durn b-.h,arnllless—creettur, ye — cruel —cruel -lad!" he cried, "Hobo dour ye strike—ma — \b?ti11ie? yer — father's Wullie? Adapt — MiAdam's — Red )Wull?" I -Ie was panting from his ex- ertions and his eyes were blazing. "'I pit up as best I can wi' all manner o' disrespect to mase!'; but when it conies to takin' rna pair Wullie, I little elan 'held 'a feeble dip -candle in his 'hand, !which lit his sallow face in crude 'black and 'white. IIn the dour - way, dimly :outlined, was t'he great figure Of IRed IWull. 'Wilmer ha' ye been the day?" the little man asked. Then, looking down on the w"hite stained face beneath him he added hurriedly: "If ye like to lie, I'll 'believe ye." 'David was out of bed and standing ap in his night-shirt. IHe looked at his 'father contemptuously. `1I ha' ib'in at Kennnuin. iI'11 'not lie for yo' or your likes," he said 'proud'ly. The little nnan shrugged his shoul- d ers. 'Tell a lee and stick to it,' is 'my rule, and !a good one, Loo, in honest lEnegland. ,I for one'll no think only the worse o' ye if yer memory plays yer 'false." • "D'yo' think 'I care a !kick 'what yo' think o' me?" the 'boy asked brutally.. '":Nay; ''there's'noug'h liars in this 'fare - 'y swi'oot Inc." The candle trembled 'and Weer still again. "A liekio' or a lie.—tak' yer 'ch'oice!" (To'Be Convtinued.) s le names of your visitors; A DOLLAR'S WORTH Clip this coupon and mail it with 01 for a six weeks' trial subscription to, THE CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR • Published by THE OIIaIar,sN SCIaNea PIICLI ff,o SaosorY Boston, Masaae11115etts, If. B. A: In 1t Fou will find the dully goad news of the world from Its 800 special writers, as well as departments devoted to women's and chtldren'a Interests, sports, music, finance, edgcatlan, radio. eta You will be glad to, welcome Into your home so fearless an advocate of peace and prohibition. And don't miss Snubs. Our Dog, and the 0105101 and the ether features. Toon Onelsexnoo SCmNOZ Menxaeo, BoClt Bayy Stetlon,•)3oston, Mass. Please'send mea ale weeks''trlal eubacriptlon. I. enclose one dollar (51), 0,4 ofix 0 „,.e. (Name,please print) (Address) (Town), - (state) PROFESSIONAL CARDS Medical DR. H. HUIGH.ROSIS, Plhysfth and Surgeon. Late of London Btct'-' pita!, - Lond'on, England. Speainl8 attention to diseases of the eye, away nose and. bhroat. Office and reed- deuce • behind Dominion Bank. ` E311fioe Phone No, 5 ,Reseidence Phone WC DR. F. J. BIURIdOIWS, Stake*. Office and residence, Godericd seectee east of the United Church: COMM: for the County of Huron. TeacgRoere No. 46, DR. F. J. R. IlO'RSTER-1Eye, Bata Nose and Th'roat, Graduate be 14leti&e eine, University of Toronto i64�L Late Assistant New York f9gfthr& ink and Aural Institute, Moore€eM's Eye, and Golden Squaere throat futsll ta'1s, London, England. At COMM. ercial Hotel, Seaforth, 3rd Monday its each month, from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. DIR. W. C. SPIRiOAIT.--Gradesate la4 Faculty of Medicine, University at Western Ontario, London. Menthe of College of Physicians and Sdta- geons of Ontario. Office is tear cif Aberhart's- drug stone, Seafer& Phone 90. Hours 1.30-4 p.ess., Iii' -9 p.m. Other hours by appoiatssaa Dental DR. J. A. MU1N!N, Successor W Dr. R. R. Ross, graduate of Wolfe western University, Chicago, centiate Royal College of Dental Sac geons, ;Toronto. Office over Sfi'W hardware, Main St., Seaforth. Litman 151. DR. F. J. BECHELY, graduate Royal College of Dental Someone. Toronto. Office over W. R. Smitten grocery,, Main St., Seaforth. Phoney, office 185W, residence 185J. Auctioneer. ;GEORGE ELIJIIOTT, Licensed Auctioneer for the County of Hsacenc. Arrangements can be evade for Safe Date at The Seaforth News. Charges moderate and satisfaction gurant'eed. • WATSON AND REEDS S REAL ESTATE AND INSURANCE AGENCY' (Succssors to James 'Watson) MAIN- ST., SEAFORTH, All kinds of Insurance risks effect- ed, at lowest rates in First -am Companies. THE lVIcKIL OP Mutual Fire Insurance Co. HEAD OFFICE—SEAFORTH. ()eat OFFICERS Geo, R. McCartney, Seaforth Phase James Connally, Goderidh - Vice -Pres. Merton A. Reid, Seaforth-Sec.-'Frew • AGENTS: W. E. Hinch'ley, Seaforth; joke: Murray, R. R. 3, Seaforth; E. R. G Jarmouth, . Brodhagen; James \!leant, 'El yrh; C. F. Hewitt, Kincarnlinep, NVdtt, Yeo, Hblmesville, DIRECTORS: William Knox, Londesboro; George, Leotnhardt, Brodhagen; James Coit,.- nolly, Goderich; Alex, Broadfoot, Mai. 3, Seaforth; Robert Ferris, Blythe, George 'McCartney, No. 3, Seafo t0 John Pepper, •Bruceifiedd; James Shed"- dice, fax -dice, Watton; Thomas iafoylam, 'N'c. , Seaforth. Parties desirous to effect insurance, or transact other business, wilt ice promptly attended to by application to any of the above wanted officers act- dressed to their respective poet offices. • Use Miller's Worm Powders area the battle against 'worms" is '010 48,-. These powders correct dde mortli8 condition of the stomach Which nour- ish the worsts, ,incl these destructive parasites cannot exist after they conte in contact with the 'medicine. The worms are digested by. the powder„ and are speedily evacuated with other refuse 'from the bowels. Soundness is imparted to the 'organs and Clue health of the c'hild'slteadily imspro-'es,.