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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Huron Expositor, 1923-02-16, Page 7It 'he Light IN THE Clearing By IItWING BACBIiLLER • CONNSI" MONEY BACK GUARANTEE Baa Sold in Seaforth by E. UMBACH. 5 MAKE MONEY. ATHOME Nun,leh everything. WE otartyou In bu,inro,. You make 1 to 2 a.11an an hour at home to yon enure time. No c ,va,,ing or auliviting. We guarantee to tad, 'u show Card Leering 'y oar New Simple Mnhcd and pay ash each week no matter where Write for 111u2tmted IS,,.,kra end Terms Free. DETROIT SHOW CARD SCHOOL 254 Lead Security Bldg. Toronto, Ont - s s .r, Just a trace of sooth- ing Boracic—to make it the perfect soap for mother, baby and all the family. IP CANTS IT TOILET SOAP J They do not glow when blown out. Their heads do not drop. They contain no poison. Rats won't gnaw then. Sane Their added length prevents scorched fingers when lighting ranges and lanterns. They give longer, brighter light in the darkness. Certain ' One gentle stroke ignites them, MAPLE I MA C . . t a'rtd. ' Tho Canadian Match Co, Limited, Montreal 12 After Every Meal .„..... ji..,_ qr. 4:, Trop off each meal with a L)iii of sweet in the form Of WRIGLEY'S. It satisfies the sweet tooth and aids digestion. Pleasure and benefit combined. r, .u$. °,AR`. (Continued fimin Bast 'Reek) "Will you love me always and for- ever?" "Yea," I answered in the careless way of youth. She stopped and looked 'into my eyes' and I looked into hers. "May I kiss you?" I asked, and afraid, with cheeka burning. She turned away and answered: "I guess you can if you want to." Now I seem to be in Aladdin'a tower and to see her standing so red and graceful and innocent in the sun- light, and that strange fire kindled by our kisses warms my blood again. It was still play, although not like that of the grandladies and the noble gentlemen in which we had one in- dulged, but still it was play — the sweetest and dearest kind of play which the young may enjoy, and pos- sibly, also, the most dangerous., She held my hand very tightly as we went on and I told her of my purpose to be a great man. My mind was in a singular condi. tion of simplicity those days. It was due to the fact that 1 had had no confidant in school and had been brought up in a home where there was neither father nor mother nor brother. That night I heard .a whispered conference below after I had gore up -stairs. I knew that something was coming and wondered what it might be. Soon Uncle Peabody cane up to our little room looking highly serious. He sat down on the, side of his hcd with his hands clasped firm- ly tinder one knee, r:'ising his foot below it well above th-' floor. He r -- minded me of ore carefully holding taut `erns on a horse of a bad reputa- tion. I sat, half undressed and rather fearful, looking into his face. An I think of the immaculate soul of the boy. I feel a touch of pathos in that scene. I think that he felt it, for 1 remember that his whisper trembled a little as he began to tell Inc why men are strong and women are beau- tiful and given to men in marriage. "You'll be falling in love one o' these days," he said. "It's natural ye should. You remember Rovin' Kate?" he asked by and by. "Yes," I answered. "Some day when you're a little old- er I'll tell ye her story an' you'll see what happens when men an' women break the law o' God. Here's Mr, Wright's letter. Aunt Deel asked me to give it to you to keep. You're old enough now an' you'll he goin' away to school before long, I guess." I took the letter and read again the superscription on its envelope: To Master Barton Baynes— (To be opened when he leaves home to go to school.) I put it away in the pine box with leather hinges on its cover which Uncle Peabody had made for me and wondered again what it was all about and again that night I broke camp and moved further into the world over the silent trails of knowledge. Uncle Peabody went away for n few days after the harvesting. He had gone afoot, I knew not where. He returned one afternoon in a buggy with the great Michael Hacket of the Canton Academy? Hacket was a big, brawny, red-haired, kindly Irishman with a merry heart and tongue, the latter having a touch of the brogue of the green isle which he had never seen, for he had been horn in Massa- chusetts and had got his education in Harvard. He was then a man of fcrty. -' "You're coming to me this fall," Ile said as he put his hand on my arm and gave me a little shake. "Lad! you've got a big pair of shoulders! Ye shall Live in my house an' help with the chores if ye wish to." "That'll be grand," said Uncle Pea- body, but, as to myself just then, I knew not what to think of it. We ;were picking up potatoes in the field. "Without. 'titers an' imitators this world would be a poor place to live in," said ItIr .Harlc"t. "Some imi- tate the wile—thanlc Godl—some the foolish—bed 'cess to the devil!" As he spoke we hoard a wonderful bird song in a tall spruce down by the brook. "Do ye heir the little silver bells in yon tower?" lie asked. As we listened n moment he whis- pered: "It's the Seng o' the Hermit Thrush. T weeder, now, whom be imitates. ! ihir4. the first one o' them must 'a' emne on Christmas night an' hewnd the angels sing an' remembered a 1', t'1' o' it so he eiAuld give it to his cl.adren an' keep it in the world." I looked up in(n the man's face and liked him, and after that I look- ed forward to the time when I should knew him and his home. Shea was rul hing his Deck fondly on the school-nmstcr's boot. "That dog co'.ildn't think more o' MC if 1 were" a L„ne," he said as he went away. End of Look One. BO(lli TWO Which is the Story of the Principal Witness. CHAPTER IX In Which I meet Other Great Men. 1 It was a sunny day in late Septem- ber on which Aunt Deel and Uncle Peabody took me and my little pine cheat with all my treasures in it to the village where I was to go to school and live with the family of ovo'r sawshoxge t vac •- : o erthetlre a GHer IR'� p 4"*"ia at its niwipf :caw Jautvzhirmbeagitieltdciatit.11, I was proud of the chest, now equip- ped with iron hinges and a hasp and staple. Aunt Deel had worked. hard to get ate ready, sitting late at her loom to weave cloth for my new epic, which a travelling tailor had fitted and made for roe. I remember that the breeches were of tow and that they scratched my legs and made me very uncomfortable, but I did not complain. My Ungle used to say that nobody with tow breeches on him could ride a horse without Ibeing thrown—they pricker] so. The suit which I had grown into— "thc Potsdam clothes," we called them often, but more often "the boughten clothes"—had been grown out of and left behind in a way of speaking. I had an extra good looking pair of cowhide boots, as we all agreed, which John Wells, the cobbler„had made for me. True, I had my doubts about them but we could afford no better. When the chest was about full, 1 remember that my aunt brought something wrapped in a sheet of the St. Lawrence Republican and put it into my hands. "There are two dozen cookies an' some dried meat,” said she. "Ayes, I thought mebbe you'd like 'em—if you was•hungry some time between meals. Wait a minute." She went to her room and Uncle Peabody and I waited before we shut the hasp with a wooden peg driven into its staple. Aunt Deel returned promptly with the Indian Book in her hands. "There " said she, "you might as well have it—ayes!—you're old en- ough now. Yoq'll enjoy reudin' it sometimes in the evenin', mebbe— ayes! Please be awful careful of it. Bart, for it was a present from my mother to me—ayes it was!" How tenderly she held and looked at the sacred heirloom so carefully :stitched into its cover of faded linen. It was her sole legacy. Tears cam. to my eyes as I thought of her gen- erosity—greater, far greater than that of which has brought me gifts of silver and gold—although my curiosity regarding the Indian book had abated, largely, for I had taken many a sly peek at it. Therein I had read how Captain Baynes—my great grandfather7ehad been killed by the . Indians. 1 remember the sad excitement of that ride to the village and all the words of advice and counsel spoken by my aunt. "Don't go out after dark," said she. "I'm afraid some o' them rowdies'll pitch on ye." "If they do I guess they'll be kind o' surprised," said Uncle Peabody. "I don't want him to fight." "If it's nec'sary, I believe in fight - in' tooth an' nail," my uncle main- tained. I remember looking in vain for Sally as we passed the Dunkelbergs'. I remember my growing loneliness as the day wore on and how Aunt Deel stood silently buttoning my coat with , tears rolling down her cheeks while I leaned back .upon the gate in front of the Hacket house, on Ashery Lane, trying to act like a man and rather ashaimed of my poor success. It re- minded me of standing in the half - bushel measure and trying in vain, as I had more than once, to shoulder the big bag of corn: Uncle Peabody stood surveying the sky in silence with his back toward us. He turned ar:d nervously blew out his breath. His lips trembled a little as he said: "I dunno but what it's goin' to rain," • 1 watched them as they walked to the tavern sheds, both looking down at the ground and going rather un- steadily. Oh, the look of that be- loved pair as they walked away from me!—the look of their leaning heads! Their silence and the sound of their footsteps are, somehow, a part of the picture which has hung all these years in my memory. Suddenly I saw n man go reeling by in the middle of the road. His feet swung. They did not rise and reach forward and touch the ground according to the ancient habit of the human foot. They swung sideways and rose high and each crossed the line of his flight a little, as one might say, when it came to the grotrid, for the man's movements reminded me of the aimless flight of a sporting swallow. He zig-zagged from one side of the street to the other. He caught my eye just in time and saved me from breaking down. I watched hint until he swung aroun' n corner. Only once before had I seen a man drunk and walking, although I had seer, certain of our neighbors riding home drunk—so drunk that I thought their horses were ashamed of them, being alwayssteaming hot and in a great hurry. Sally Dunkelberg and her mother came along and said that they wera glad I had come to school. I could not talk to them and seeing my trou- ble, they went on, Sally waving her hand to me as they turned the corner below. 1 felt ashamed of myself. Suddenly I heard the door open be- hind me and the voice of -Mr. Hacket: "Bart," he called, "I've a friend here who has sohnething to say to you. Come in." I turned and went into the house. "Away with sadness—laddie buck!" he exclaimed as be took his violin from its case while I sot wiping my eyes. "Away with sadness! She often raps at my door, and while I try not to be rude, I always pretend to be very busy. Just a light word o' recognition by way o' common po- e UR►N EYES / _ ZRR1TATED BY SUN.WIND DUST t3.CINDERS APCOMMOIDED 6 BOLD BV DRUGGISTS 6 OPTICIANS Mr. Michael Hacket, the schoolmaster. aa • r•.y. a a. sous M'a,a. eatea'avaa inn@es ply: tt)i Q• do it gttaield d, an she i pias a ow Vi The 1 "words were spokenin whisper, with one band on m breast He tuned tlie.tstrin and played the Fieltel''e finrnpi Pe. at u romp of perry music tilled the house! I had never beard , the like. and was soon smilinget trim as he played. Hip bovf an4 fingers flew in the wild frolic of the devil's Dream. It led me out of my sadness into a world all new to tae. "Now, God bless your soul, boy!" he exclaimed, by and by, as he put down his instrument. "We shall have a good time together --that we will. Nota strobe o' work this day! Come, I have a guide here that will take us dawn to the land o' the fair- ies.'' Then with" his microscope he showed me into the wonder of little- ness of which I had had no•knowledge. "The microscope is like the art o' the teacher," he said. "I've known a good teacher to take a brain no bigger than a fly's foot an' make it visible to the naked eye." One of the children, of which there were four in the Hacket home, called us to supper. Mrs. Hacket, a stout woman with a red and kindly face, sat at one end of the table, and be- tween them were the children—Mary, a pretty daughter of seventeen years; Maggie, a six year old; Ruth, a deli- cate girl of seven, and John, a noisy, red-faced boy of five. The chairs were of plain wood—like the kitchen chairs of to -day. In the middle of the table was an empty one—painted green. Before he sat down Mr, Packet put his hand on the back of ttis chair and said: "A merry heart to you, Michael Henry." I wondered at the meaning of this, but dare not to ask. The oldest daughter cted as a kind of modera- tor with the others. "Mary is the constable of this house with power to arrest and hale into court for undue haste or rebellion 'or impoliteness," Mr. Hacket explained. "I believe that Sally Dunkelberg is your friend," he said to me present- ly "Yes, sir," I answered. "A fine slip of a girl that and a horn scholar. I saw you look at her. as he Persian looks at the rising sun." I blushed and Mary and tier mother and the boy John looked at me and laughed. "Peer prilrherrime!" Mr. Hacket exclaimed -with a kindly smile. Uncle Peabody would have called it a "stout snag." The schoolmaster had hauled it out of his brain very deftly and chucked it down before me in a kind of challenge. "What does that mean?" I asked. "You shall know in. a week, my son" he answered. "I shall put you into the Latin class Wednesday morn- ing, and God help you to like it as v ell as you like Sally." Again they laughed and again I blushed. "Hold up yer head, my brave lad," he went on. "Ye've a perfect right to like Sally if ye've a heart to." He sang a rollicJing ballad of which I remember only the refrain: ,face a a can *7 Fri: 4 little room wi}er'ar'ri depeaite(i'There,weere'in tJle!'r , bed,, a ehagr,a positrony of .2ltaip an Bonepartei and a pna11G table oa • ach were a dictionary, a Bible and'a.awa- ber of seine books,: "These were Mary's .books," *laid Dir. Hacket. "I told'yer uncle that ye et-uld use them an'. welcome. There's another book here which ye may study if ye• think it worth the bother. It's a worn an' tiresome book, my lad, but I pray God ye may find no haraa in it, Uae it as often as ye will. It le the beok o' my heart Ye will find in it some kind o' answer to every query in the endless flight o' them that'a coming on, an' may the good God help us to the truth." He turned and bade me good night and went away and closed the door. I sat down and opened the sealed envelope with trembling hands, and found in it this brief note: "DEAR PARTNER: I want you to ask the wisest man you know to ex- plain these words to you. I suggest that you commit them to memory and think often of their meaning. They are from Job: 'His bones are full of the sin' of his youth, which shall lie down with him in the dust.' I believe that they are the most impressive in all the literature I have read. Yours truly, • SILAS WRIGHT, Jr. I read the words over and over a- gain, but knew not their meaning. Sadly and slowly I got ready for bed. I missed the shingles and the familiar rustle of the popple leaves above my head and the brooding silence of the Mlle. The noises of the village chal- lenged my ear after I had put out my candle. There were many bark- ing dogs. Some horsemen passed, with a creaking of saddle leather, followed by a wagon. Soon I heard running feet and eager voices. I rose and looked out of the open win- dow. Men were hurrying down the street with lewterns. 'He's the son o' Ben Grimshaw," I heard one of them saying. "They caught -him back in the south woods yesterday. The sheriff said that he tried to run away when he saw 'em coming." What was the meaning of this? What has Amos Grimshavy been do- ing? I trembled as I got back into bed—I can not even now explain why, but long ago I gave up trying to fathom the depths of the human spir- it with an infinite sea beneath it crossed by subtle tides and currents. We see only the straws on the sur- face. I was up at daylight and Mr. Hack - et carne to my door while I was dress- ing. A merry day to you!" he exclaim- ed. "I'll await you below and intro- duce you to the bumble herds and flocks of a schoolmaster." I went with him while he fed his chickens and two small shoats. I milked the cow for him, and together we drove her back to the pasture. Then we split some wood and filled the boxes by the fireplace and the kitchen stove and raked up the leaves in the dooryard and wheeled them away. 'Now you know the duties o' your office," said the schoolmaster as we went in to breakfast. We sat down at the table with the family and I drew out my letter from the Senator and gave it to Mr. Hack - et to read. "The Senator! God prosper him! I hear that he came on the Platts- burg stage last night," he said as he began the reading—an announqement which caused me and the children to clap our hands with joy. Mr. Hacket thoughtfully repeated the words from Job with a most im- pressive intonation. He passed the letter back to me and said: 'All true! I have seen it sinking into the bones o' the young and I have seen it lying down with the aged in the dust o' their graves. It is a big book—the one we are now opening. God help us! It has more pages than all the days o' your life. Just think o' your body, 0 brave and tender youth! It is like a sponge. How it takes things in an' holds 'em an' feeds upon 'em! A part o' every i apple ye eat sinks down into yer blood an' bones. Ye can't get it out. I It's the same way with the books ye ' read an' the thoughts' ye enjoy. They go down into yer bones an' ye can't get 'em out. That's why I like to I think o' Michael Henry. His food is gond thoughts and his wine is lail h - ter. I had a long visit with M. H. last night when ye were all abed. ' His face was a chunk o' laughter. ! Oh, what a limb he is! I wish I could tell ye all the good things he said." "There comes Colonel Hand," said ! Mrs. Hacket as she looked out of the window. "The poor lonely Whig! • He has nothing to do these days but i sit around the tavern." A lad in his teens will never know beans if he hasn't an eye for the girls. It was a merry supper, and when it ended Mr. Hacket rose and took the green chair from the table, ex- claiming: "Michael Henry, God bless you!" Then he kissed hia wife and said: "Maggie, you wild rose of Erin! I've been all day In the study. I must take a walk or -I shall get an exalted abdomen. One is badly beat- en in the race o' life when hia abdo- men gets ahead of his toes. Children keep our young friend happy here until I come back, and mind you, con't forget the good fellow in the green chair." Mary helped her mother with the dishes, while I eat.with a book by the fireside. Soon Mrs. Hacket and the children came and sat down with me. "Let's play backgammon," Mary proposed. "I don't want to," said John. "Don't forget Michael Henry," she reminded. "Who is Michael Henry?" I asked. "Sure he's the boy that has never been born," said Mrs. Hacket. "He was to be the biggest and noblest one o' them—kind an' helpful an' cheery hearted an' beloved o' God above all the others. We try to live up to him." He seemed to Inc a very strange and wonderful creature—this invis- ible occupant of the green chair. I know now what I knew not then that Michael Henry was the spirit of their home—an ideal of which the empty green chair was a constant re- minder. We played backgammon and Old Maid and Everlasting until Mr. Hacket returned. He sat down and read aloud from the Letters of an Englishwoman in America. Do you want to 'know what sleigh. ing is?" she wrote. "Set your chair out on the porch on a Christmas day. P'nt your feet in a pail -full of powder- ed ice. Have somebody jingle a bell in one ear and blow into the other with a bellows and you will have an exact ides of it." When she told of a lady who had been horned by a large insect known as a snagdragon, he ladghed loudly and closed the book and said: "They have found a new peril of American life. It is the gory horn of the snapdragon. Added to our genius for hnnstfulneas and impiety, it is a crowning defect. Ye would think that our chief aim was the cuspidor. Showers of expectoration amt, thunder claps o'• profanity and braggart gales o' Yankee dialectl— that's the moral weather report that she sends pack to England. We have faults enough, God knows, but we have something elseyaway beneath them an' none o' these writers has discovered it." The sealed envelope which Mr. Wright had left at our home, a long time before that day, was in my poc- ket. At last the hour had come when I could open it and read the message k� 1 V '�.�o-�?�kIF. 'sort.°!'•: a>.i,,y'a 9 n�� "Ye might as well pity a goose for going bare-footed," the schoolmaster remarked. In the midst of our laughter Colonel Hand rapped at the door and Mr. ' Hacket admitted him. "I tell you the country is going to the dogs," I heard the Colonel saying as he came into the house. "You inhuman Hand!" Raid the schoolmaster. "I should think you would he tired of trying to crush that . old indestructible worm." Colonel Hand was a surly looking man beyond middle age with large eyes that showed signs of dissipation. Hehad a small dark tuft beneath bis lower lip and thin, black, untidy Bair. "What do ye think has happened?" he asked as he looked down upon us with a majestic movement of his hand. He stood with a stern face, like an orator, and seemed to enjoy our suspense. "What do you think has happen- ed?" he repeated. "God knows) It may be that Bill Harriman has swapped bereft again or that somebody has been talked to death by old Granny Barnes—wbieh ltr't Ys't:,,,tint ya,. Superior to the beet Young" Upson., mile:# is it?" asked the schoolmapter. -' "It is neither, sir," Colonel Hand answered sternly. "The son o' that old Buck -tail, Ben Grimshaw, bas' been arrested and brought to jail for, murder." "For murder?" asked Mr. and Mrs, Hacket is one breath. "For bloody murderer sir," the Colonel went on. "It was the shoot- ing of that man in the town o' Dally - been a few weeks ago. Things have come to a pretty pass in this coun- try, I should say. Talk about law and order, we don't know what it means here and why should we? The party in power is avowedly apposed to it—yes, air. It has fattened upon bribery and corruption. Do you think that the son o' Ben Grimshaw will receive his punishment even if he is proved guilty? Not at all. He will be protected—you mark my words." He bowed and left us. When the door had closed behind him Mr. Hack • - et said: "Another victim horned by the Snapdragon! If a man were to . be slain by a bear back in the woods Colonel Hand would look for guilt in the Democratic party. He will have a busy day and people will receive him as the ghost of Crensa received the embraces of Eneas—unheeding, Michael Henry, whatever the truth I "Well, I see ye still love the ted. may be regarding the poor boy in der embrace o' the wheelbarrow,e jail, we are in no way responsible. ' said Mr. Hackett as we approached Away with sadness( What is that?" the Senator. Mr. Hackett inclined his ear and "My embrace is the tenderer o' they, added: the two," the latter laughed with a3 "Michael Henry says that he may looks at his hands. be innocent and that we had better He recognized me and aeised Layn go and see if we can help him. Now two hands and shook them as Ing, I hadn't thought o' that Had you, said: Mary?" "Upon my word, here is my friend "No," the girl answered. Bart. I was not looking fot roll "We mustn't be letting Mike get here." ahead of us always," said her father. The news brought by the Colonel had shocked me and my thoughts had been very busy since his announce- ment. I -had thought of the book which I had seen Amos reading in the haymow. Had its contents sunk In- to his bones?—for I couldn't help thinking of all that Mr. Hacket had just said about books and thoughts. My brain had gone back over the events of that tragic {moment—the fall, the swift dream, the look of the robber in the .dim light, the hurling of the stone. The man who fled was about the size of Amos, but I had never though& of the latter as the guilty man. "You saw the crime, I believe," said Mr. Hacket as he turned to me. I told them all that I knew of it. "Upon, ray, W9rat brave lad," dais sehoo heard of all;and,•decid would be a belp' ter- MiCbai and a creditable sitdept..:`' us go and pay our nom the Senator. He rise* e ho stayed at the tavern out and up , at hia ' house DP The schoolmaster and I wean'' to Mr. Wright's house—.a whiter frii building which had often been'. ed out to me. Mrs. Wright, a fine-looldn who met us at the door, said that Senator had gone over to the with his wheelbarrow. Mr. Racket asked for the time she answered: It wants one 'Minute of seven," I quote her words to show -.(foil' early the- day began with as back I those times. "We've plenty of time and well wait for him," said the echoohuags: ter I see him!" said little John as lit and Ruth ran to the gate and domil' the rough plank walk to meet hipa, We saw him coming a little a down the street in his shirt-s with his barrow in front of him. f0 stopped and lifted little John ins arms, and after a moment put Id* down and embraced Ruth. al (Continued next week) • . • • • • ... De THOMAS ECO 1 @RIC• ,'����SUR SA AND SINItp,EA� iTT SHOULDHOF LW S A V8 a RI EtKy. PT0 ON ATBON. FLAN SUCH H BE GET A NO H \v %WIL TO -OW TT VE I TFO •®0 • rr • SMOKE TbeToba�oor Quali 6p /2LB.iIN� and in packages A slow oven will not spoil your baking when you use EGG -O Powder ORDER FROM YOUR N©GHOORHOOD G ra