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The Seaforth News, 1938-10-20, Page 6PAGE SIX. THE SEAFORTH NEWS THURSDAY, . OCTOBER 20, 1938 We were up at daylight, and even then it was snowing and blowing fiercely. There were two feet of snow on the sled house roof, and we were nearly buried in the 'bank. Uncle Eb had to do a lot of shoveling to :getout of doors and into the stable. Oid Doc- tor was quite out of the wind in a cave of snow and nickerin.g dor Inc breakfast, There was plenty for hili, but we were on short rations Uncle Eb put on the snow shoes, after we had eaten what there was left, and, canttioning us to keep in, set out for Fadden's across the lots. He carne back inside of an 'hour with a good supply of provisions in a basket on his shoulder. The wind had gone down and the air was milder. Big !flakes of snow came fluttering slowly downward out of a dark sky. After dinner we went up on top of the sled house and saw a big scraper coming in the valley below. Six teams of oxen were drawing it, and we could see the flying furrows 'on either side of the scraper as it plowed in the deep drifts. Uncle Eb put on the snow shoes again, and, with Hope on his 'back and me clinging to his hand. he went down to meet them and to tell of our plight. The front team had wallowed to their ears, and the men were dig- ging them can with shovels when we got to the scraper. A score of men and boys clung to the sides of that big, hollow wedge, and put their weight on it as the oxen pulled. We not on with the othere, I remember, and I was swept off as soon as the scraper started by a roaring ava- lanche of snow that came down upon our heads and buried me completely. I was up again and had a fresh hold in a jiffy, and clung to my palace until I was nearly smothered by the flying snow. It was great fun for me, and they were all shouting and hallooing as if it were a fine holiday. They made slow progress, however, and we deft them shortly on their prom- ise to try to reach us before night. If they failed to get through, one of them said he would drive over to Paradise Valley, if possible, and tell the Browers we were all right, On our return, 'Uncle Eb began shoveling a tunnel in the cut. When we got through to the open late in the afternoon we saw the scraper party going back with their teams. "Guess they've gi'n up ler t' -day," said he. "Snow's powerful deep down there below the bridge. Mebbe we can get 'round to where the road's clear by goin' 'cross lots. I've a good mind t' try it." Then he went aver in the field and picked a winding way down the hill toward the river, while we children stood watching him. He came back soon and took down a bit of the fence and harnessed Old Doctor and hitch- ed Whim to the sled !rouse. The tunnel was just wide enough to let us through with a tight !pinch here and there. The looting was rather soft, and the horse had hard pulling. We went in the field, atrugling on afoot— we footwe little people—while Uncle Eb led the horse, He had to stop frequently to tunnel through a snowdrift, and at dusk we had only !got half way to the bridge from our cave in the cut. Of a sudden Old Doctor went •up to his neck in a wall of deep snow that seemed to cut us off—completely. He struggled a moment, falling on his side and wrenching the shafts from the runners. Uncle IEIb went to work vigorously with his shovel and had soon cut a narrow 'box stall in the deep snow around' !Old Doctor. ffeast beyond the hill dipped simply and down the slope we !could see the stub- ble sticking through the shallow snow. "We'll hcv t' stop right where we are until mornin', he said. "It's mos' dark now." 'O'ur little house stood tilting for- ward about half way down the hill, its runners buried in the snow. A .few hundred yards !below was a cliff where :the shore fell to the .niver some thirty feet. It had stopped snowing, and the air had grown warmer, bat the sky was dark. We ,put nearly all the hay in the sled house under Old Doctor and gave him the last of the oats and a warn cover of blankets. Then Uncle Eb went away to the fence for more wood, while we spread the supper. He was very tired, I re- member; and we all turned in far the night a short tineafter we had eaten. The little stove was roaring dike a furnace when we spread our 'blankets on the sloping floor and lay down, our feet to the front, and drew the warns robes over us. Uncle 'Eb, who had had no sleep the night before, !began to snore heavily before we children had stopped whispering. He was still snor- ing, and Hope sound asleep, when I woke in the night and heard the rain falling on our little roof and felt the warm 'breath of the south wind. The water dripping from the eaves and fall- ing far and near upon the yielding snow had many 'voices. I was half asleep when I heard a new noise un- der the sled. Something struck the front corner •of the sled house—a heavy. muffled' blow—and brushed the noisy boards. Then I heard the tim- bers creak and felt the runners leaping over the soft snow. I remember it was like a dream of falling. I raised my- self and stared about me. We were slipping down the steep floor, The lan- tern, burning dimly under the roof, swung and rdttled. Uncle Eb was up un his elbow staring wildly. I could feel the jar and rush of the runners and the rain that seemed to roar as it dashed into my face. Then, suddenly, the sled house gave a great leap into the air and the grating of the runners ceased. The lantern went hard against the roof; there was a mighty roar in my ears; then we heard a noise like thunder and felt the shock of a blow that set my' back aching, and cracked the roof above our heads. It was all still for a second; then we children began to cry, and Uncle 'Eb stagger- ed to his feet and lit the lantern that had gone out and that had no globe, I remember, as he held it down to our faces. "Hush! Are you hurt?" he said, as he knelt 'before ns, "Git up now, see if ye can stand." We got to our feet, neither of us much the worse for what had happen- ed. My knuckles were cut a bit 'by a splinter, , and Hope had been .hit on the shins by the lantern ,globe 'as it fell. "By the Lord Harry!" said Uncle E'b, when he saw we were not hurt. "Wonder what hit us." We followed him outside while he was speaking. "We've slid down hill," he said. "Went over the cliff, \Vent 'kerplunk M the deep snow, er there'd been .nu - thin' left ui- is Snow's meltin' jest a' if it was July." Uncle Eb helped us into our heavy coats, and then was a blanket over his arm led us' into the wet snow. We came out upon clear ice in a moment and picked our way along the lower- ing shore. At length Uncle Eb clam- bered up, dulling us alp after him, one by one, Then he whistled to Old Doc- tor, who whinnied a quick reply. He left us standing together, the !blanket over our heads, and went away in the dark whistling as he had done :before. We could 'hear Old Doctor answer es he came near, and presently ;Uncle Eb returned leading the horse by the halter. Then he put us both on Old Doctor's Ib'a.ek, threw the blanket over our heads, and started slowly for the road, We clung to each other as the horse staggered in the soft snow, and kept our places with some aicl from Uncle Eb. We crossed the fence pres- ently, and then for a way it was hard going. We found fair footing after we had passed the big scraper, and, corn - growing light and they made us cam- fortalble around a big stove, and gave us [breakfast. The good man of the. house tookus homeinahig sleigh af- ter the chores were done, We met David Brower coming after us, and if we'd 'beenn gone a year we couldn't havereceived a warmer welcome. irtg to a house a mile or so down the road calledthem [out of bed. It was CHAPTER .'VIII Of all that long season of snow, I remember most pleasantly the days that were sweetened with the sugar - making. When ,the rim was lifting his course in the [clearing sky, and March had got the temper of the lamlb, and, the .frozen pulses. of the forest had !begun' to stir, the great kettle was mounted in• the yard and all gave a hand to the washing of spouts and buckets. Then came tapping time, in: which I helped carry the ibuckebs and tasted the sweet now that followed. the auger's wound. The woods were merry with our shouts, and, shortly, one could hear the heart-beat of the. maples in the sounding ibuc'ket, 'It was the [reveille of spring. Towering trees s'hoo'k down the gathered storms of snow and felt for the sunlight.. 'The arch and shanty were repaired, the great iron 'kettle was sooured and lift- ed 'to its place, and then came the boiling, It was a great, .an inestima- ble privilege to sit on the robes of faded fur, in the shanty, and 'hear the fire roaring ender the tkebtle and smell the sweet odor of the 'boiling sap. lUn- ole Eb nvinded the shanty and the fire and the woods rang with his merry songs. When I thinkof that phase of the sugaring, I am face to face with one of the !greatest ,perils of my life. My foster father had oonsented to let me spend a night with 'Uncle Eb in the shanty, aaod I was to sleep on the robes, where he [would be beside ane when he was not tending the fire, It had been a mild, bright day, and Dav- id carne up with our supper at sunset. He sat talking with Uncle Eb, fon an hour or so, and the woods were dark- ling when he went away. When he started on the darks trail that led to the clearing, I wondered at his courage—it was so black be- yond the firelight. While we sat alone I pleaded for 'a story, but the thoughts of Untie ,Eb had gone to roost early h a sort •of gloomy medi- tation. "Be still, my boy," said he, "an.' go t' sleep. I aunt again' t' tell no yarns an' git ye all stirred up. Ye go t' sleep. Come morndn' we'll go down t' the brook an' see if we can't find a mink or tew 'gin the traps." I remember hearing a great erack- ling of twigs in the dark wood 'before I slept. .As I lifted my head, Uncle lEb whispered, "Hark!" and we both list- ened, A bent and aged figure came stalking into the firstight. His long white hair mingled with hos beard and covered his coat collar :behind. "Don't be scairt," 'said Uncle Eb. "'Twin' no bear. It's within' but a poet." I knew him for a man who wand- ered nisch and had a rhyme for every one --a kindly man with a reputation for laziness and without any home. "Bilin', eh?" said the poet. The sw!a'iloVe was there an' he ushered .ea'eh ,pair with 'his Linsey an' claw. hammer 'coat: "Bilin'," said Uncle Eb, "I'm bilin' over 'n the next bush," said the poet, sitting down. "How's everything in Jingleville?" Uncle .Eb inquired. Then the newcomer answered: The :bobolink tried fer t' flirt with the 'bride in a way thet was sassy, an' !bold: An' the notes that he took as he shiv- ered an' shook Hed a sound -like, bhe jingle of gold. He sat on a briar an' laughed at the choir an' said Chet the music was old. The sexton he came—Mr. Spider by name—a citizen !hairy and gray. His rape in a steeple, he called the good people That live in the land o' the hay. The ants an' the squgs an' the crickets an' bugs—came out in a mighty ar- ray. Scathe came clown from Barleytown an' the .neighboring city o' Rye. Ain' the little Iblac!k people they climb- ed every steeple An' sat looking up at the sky. They cane fer t' see what a wedding might be an' they'furnished the dike' an' the pie. Well. neighbor dear, in 'Jingleville We live by faith bat we eat our fill; An' what w'u'd we do if it wa'n't fer prayer? Fer we can't raise a thing 'but whisk- ers an' hair. , "Cur'us how you can talk po'try," said Uncle Mb. 'The only thing I've got agin you is them whiskers an' thet hair. 'Taint Christian." "'Taint what's on the head, but what's in it—thet's the important thing," said the poet. "Did I ever tell ye what I wrote about the birds?" "Don' know'• ye ever did," said Uncle Eb, stirring his fire. "The 'boy'll like it, mebbe," said he, taking a dirty piece of paper out of his pocket and balding it to the light. The poem interested me, young as I was, not less than the strange figure of the old poet who lived unknown in the backwoods, and who died, I dare say, with many a 'finer song, in his heart. I remember how he stood in the firelight and 'chanted the words in a sing -song tone. He gave us that rude copy of the poem, and here it is: THE ROBIN'S WEDDING Young .robin reed 'breast hed a beauti- ful nest an' he says to his love says he:, It's ready now on a mocking bough In the top ofa maple tree. I've lined it with down an' the velvet brown on the waist of a.bum!ble bee. They were married next day, in the land o' the hay, the lady bird an' be The bobolink came an' .the wife o' the same An' the lark an' the fiddle de dee. An' the crow came 'dawn in a minis- ter gown—there was nothing that he didn't see. He fluttered his wing as they ast him to sing an' he tried fer ,t' clear out - his throat; He hemmed an' he 'hawed an' he hawked an' he cawed But he couldn't deliver a note, to wed The young man gloing ,forth Iby duty led An. :d [faltering age. Thou hads't a magic window broad and high The light and' glory of the morning shone Theo' it, however dark the day had grown, Or !bleak the sky. "I !know 'Dave •Brdtver's • doi'ks hev gat 'brains an' decency, Ibut when thet boy is old enough t' take 'Dare vv him- self, let him git out o•';this Country. I tell ye he'll never make a 'farmer, art' if he marries an' settles down 'here he'll !glt 't' be a poet, mebbe, er some such shif'iess cuss, an' die in the poor- house. 'Guess I 'bette'r git lbacklc •t' my bilin' now,'IGood-night," he added, ris- ing :and Ib'aattoning his old •ooat as he walked' awpy. '"'Sing'lar ananl" Made E'b exola'im- ed, thoughtfully, "but anyone Chet picks ,'him nap fer a 'foal'1l find him a counterfeit." Young as I was, the nagged, ele- mental !power of the old poet had somehow got to my heart and stirred my imagination. It MI name not fully to my understanding until later. Lit- tle 'by little it :grew upon me, and what an effect it had upon lny thought and life ever after I should not dare to estivate. And soon I sought out the "[poet of the 'hills," as- they nailed hint. and got to know and even to re- spect him in spite of his [unlovely as- pect. Uncle 'Eb skimmed the boiling sap, put more wood on the ,fire and •came and pulled off his boots and ley .down beside me under the robe. And, .hear- ing the boil of the sap and the crackle .of the 'burning logs in the arch, I soon went asleep. I rememlber feeling Uncle !Lb's upon my cheek, and how I rose and stared about me in the fading shad- ows of a dream as he shook me ,gent - 1, "Wake up, niy boy," said he. "Come, we mus' put fer home." The fire was out. The old man held a lantern as he stood ,before me, the blaze !flickering. There was a fear- some darkness all .around. "Come, Willy, [take haste," he whispered, as I rubbed my eyes. "Put on yer 'boots, an' here's yer little coat 'n' muffler" There was a nighty roar in the forest and icy puffs of snow came whistling in upon us. We stored the robes and pails and buckets and cov- ered the big kettle. The lofty tree tops reeled and creaked above us, and a deep, sonor- ous moan was sweeping through the Woods, as if the fingers of the wind had touched a mighty harp string in the timber. We could hear the caash and thunder of falling trees. "Make hastel Make hastel It's res- ky here," said Uncle Eh, and he held my hand and ran. We started through the ,brush and steered as straight as we oould for the clearing. The little box of !light lie carried was soon sheathed in snow, and I remember how he stopped, half out of :breath, often, and brushed it with his mittens to let out the light. We had made the scattering 'growth of tittle timber at the edge of the woods when the globe of the lantern snapped and fell. A mo- ment later we stood in 'utter darkness. I knew, ,for the first time, then that we were in a 'bad :fix. "I !guess tGod'1.1 take care of us, Willy," said Uncle !Eb. "If he don't, we'll never get there in this world-- never!" orld—never!" It was a black and icy wall of night and storm on every side of tis. I never saw a time when the ,light of God's heaven was so utterly extinguished; the cold never went to my bone as on that bitter night. My •hands and feet were numb with aching, as the roar of the •trees grew fainter in the open. I remember how I lagged, and how the old man unged me on, and how we toiled in the wind and darkness, straining ,our eyes for some familiar thing. Of a sudden we stumbled upon a wall that we had passed an hour or so 'before. "011 1" 'he .groaned, and made that funny, deprecating cluck with his tongue, that I :have heard so much from 'Yankee lips. "God o' mercy!" said he, "we've gone 'round in a half circle. Now we'll take the wall an' mebbe it'll bring us home." I thought I couldn't keep my feet any longer, for an irresistible drowsi- ness had come aver me. The voice of Uncle Eb Seemed far away, and when 1 sank in the snow !and shut my eyes to sleep he" shook me as a terrier shakes a rat I remember he turned to me when he had finished and took one of my Some 'came down from Barleytown an' the neighboring city o' Rye. An' the little !b''taak people they climb- ed every steeple An' sat looking up at the •sky. They carne fer t' see what a wedding might 'be an' they furnished the cake an' the pie. I remember he turned to me when he had finished and teak one of my small hands and held- it in his 'hard pair and looked at it and then into my face. "Ah, 'boys" he said, "your way shall lead you far from here, and you shall get learning and wealth and win many victories." "What nonsense are you .talking, Jed Peary?" said Uncle Eb. "0, you all think I'm a fool an' a humbug, 'cos I !oak it. Why, JEbeu Holden, if you was what ye looked, ye'd be in the presidential chair. Folks here 'n the valley think o' nuthin' but hard work—most uv 'em, and' =I tell ye now this boy ain't a goin' t' be waith putty on a farm, Look a' them slend- er 'hands. "There was a man come to me the other da'y an' wanted • t' hev a poem 'bout his wife that bed jes, died. I ast him t' tell me all ''bout her. '"'Wall,' said he, after he had scratched his head an' thought a min ate, 'she was a-dretfnl good woman t' work.' "'Anything .else?' I asked. "He thought agin fer a minute. "'Broke her leg once,' he said, 'an', was laid up fer more'n a year,' "'Must o' suffered,' said I. "Not then,' he answered. 'Ruttier enjoyed it layin':abed an' readin' an' bein' rubbed, but 't was hard on the children.' "'Suppose ye loved her; I said. "Then the tears come into his eyes an' he couldn't speak fer a minute. Putty soon he whispered 'Yes' kind 0' confidential. 'Course he loved her, but these Yankees .ase ashamed .o' their feelin's, They 'hev tender thoughts, but they hide 'em as careful as the wild goose hides ,her eggs. I wrote a poem !' 'please him, an' !gain' home I made up one fer myself, an' it run 'bout like this: O give me more than a [fife, 3 beg, That finds real joy in a broken leg. Whose only thought is t' work an save An' whose only rest is in the grave. Saving an' scrimping from day to day While its 'best it has squandered an' flung away Per a life like that of which I tell Would rob me quite o' the dread o' hell. "Toil an' slave an' scrimp an' save —thet's 'bout all we think u'v 'n this country. 'Tain't right, Holden" "N!o, 'tain't right," saki Uncle Eb. "I know I'm [poor, mis'rabde 'crit- ter. Kind o' out o'' tune with every- body I know. Alw•us quarreled with my own folks, an' now I ain't got any home. Some day .I'm goin' t' die its the poorhouse er the .ground guider these woods. But I (tell ye"—here he spoke in a voice that grew loud .with feeling—"mebbe I've been lazy, as they say, !but I've got mbre out o' my life than any o' these fools. And some day God '11 honor me far: above' them. When my wife an' I parted •I wrote some dines that say well nay [leaning. It was only a log house we had, beet this will show what I gigot out of it." Then 'he spoke the lines, his voice trembling with emotion. O tunable home! Thom 'hadst a secret door Thro' which I loo'ked, !betimes, with wandering eye On treasures that no palace ever ware But now-good-byl In hallowed scenes what feet havd trod thy stage! The 'babe, the maiden, leaving home PROFESSIONAL CARDS Medical SEAFOIRTH CLINIC Dr. E. A. McMaster, M.B., Gradu- ate of University of Toronto. D. Colquhoun, M.D., C.M.) Grad- uate of 'Da111otisie University, 'Halifax. The Clinic 'is f'u'lly equipped with complete and modern x-ray and other up-boedate diagnostic and thereuptic equipiident. Dr. Margaret K. 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 Throat, will be at the Clinic the first Tuesday in every month ,from 4 to 6 p.m. Free wellababy clinic will be !held on the second and last Thursday in every month from 1 toe pan. "Wake 'up, my boy," said he, "ye musn't sleep." Then he !boxed my ears until I cried, and picked me etp .and man with ire along the side of the wall. I was but dimly conscious when he ,dropped me 'under a tree whose (bare twigs lashed the air and stung my cheeks.: I heard him teaming the branches sav- agely and. muttering, "Thanks to 'God;, O 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 aesidence behind Dominion Bank. Office Phone No. 5; Residence Phone 104. rw DR. F. J. 'BURROWS, Office Main St, Seaforth, over Dominion Bank, Hours 2 -IS and r7 to !8 p.m. and by ap- pointment, Residence, 'Go'derich. St,, two doers west of !United Church. Phone 46. DR. F. J. R. FORSTER — Eye Ear, Nose and Throat. Graduate in Medicine, University of Toronto, 11897. Late Assistant New York Ophthal- mic and Aural Institute, Moorefield's Eye, and 'Golden Square throat hospi- tals, London. At Commercial Hotel, !Seaforth, third 'Wednesday in each month from 1.30 p.m. to '5 p.m. Auctioneer. GEORGE ELLIOTT, Licensed Auctioneer for the County of Huron. Arrangements can be made for Sale Date at The Seaforth News. Charges moderate and satisfaction guaranteed F. W. AHRENS, Licensed Audtiot eer for Perth and Huron Counties. Sales Solicited. Terms on Application. Farm Stook, 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 Insurance Co HEAD OFFICE—SEAFORTH, Ont. OblFICERS ' President, Thomas Moylan, Sea - forth; Vice President, William Knox, Londesboro; Secretary Treasurer, M A. Reid, Seaforth. AGENTS F. McKercher, R.R:1, Dublin; John 'E. Pepper, R.R.1, Brucefield; E. R. G. Jarmouth, 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 -'McGregor, Clinton No. 5; James Connolly, God- erich; Alex McEwing, Blyth No. 1; Thomas Moylan, Seaforth No. 5; Wm. R. Archibald, Seaforth No. 4. Parties desirous to effect insurance or transact other business, will be promptly attended no by applications to any of the above named officers- addressed fficersaddressed to their respective post - offices. it's the blue !beech.' 'I shall never 'for- get :how the turned ,and held my hand and 'put the whip on me as I day in the snow, and 'how the sting of it started my 'blood. 'Up I sprang in 'a jiffy and howled and danced. The stout rod (bent and circled on me like a hoop of 'fire, Then I 'turned and tried' to run while he eking to my coat tails, and every step I felt the stinging grab of the (beech. There is .a .little seam across my cheek today that marks a footfa'll of one of .those whips, In a moment. I' was as wide awake as Un- cle Eb and needed no more stimula- tion. (To be continued.)