Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 November 1874 — ALEK GREENE’S EXPERIENCE. [ARTICLE]

ALEK GREENE’S EXPERIENCE.

BY F. A. BLAISDELL.

Alek Greene sat on the dOor-step learning his history lesson for the next day. History was Alek’s favorite study. The sun had set long ago. All his crimson and golden banners in the west were furled; still Alek bent over his book with eager, flushed face, until the rapidly-waning light compelled him to desist. Then he closed it with a vigorous snap, and stepping along to the baywindow within which his mother was sitting leaned his arms upon the ledge and looked in. It w*s a glad, bright picture that broke in upon Mrs. Greene’s twilight musings: the curling brown hair tossed carelessly back from a fair, boyish face. Mr. Greene came up the Walk and rested his hand upon Alek’s shoulder. “My boy, do you think ypu are equal to a run over to the point?” lie said, pleasantly. “ Yes, sir,” said Alek, starting up with alacrity. “ You will not be afraid, will you? It is nearly dark now, you see, but there will be a moon.” “Afraid!” said Alek, scornfully; “what should Ibe afraid of? It will be right down jolly. I was never oil' so far alone by moonlight.” “Are you sure, Alek?” said his mother, leaning out of the window. " There is that long piece of wood; will you not lonely through that?” Then, turning to her husband: “Is your business very urgent?’’ “Very, little woman; this package must go out by the ten o’clock express. Joe is away with the horse and may not be back till midnight. I or Alek must go!” “I’ll go, father. Don’t fret, mother; it’s just jolly. If I’m lonely I’ll whistle for company.”

“ That’s right, my son,” said Mr. Greene. “ I should be sorry to have my Alek a cowardly fellow. Keep a clear, conscience, lad, and you need tear nothing.” - Alek had been reading some stirring stories lately, and tnis seemed quite an adventure. He was a carefully-trained boy and had seldom been out in the evening; never alone away from his father’s grounds. Now as lie lan down tlie street and out of the village he experienced a sense of importance and independence which had hitherto been quite foreign to him. Mr. Greene’s residence was on the extreme southern side of the village, fully a quarter of a mile from the main road to the station; thus, Alek's way for the most part lay through a \£ild and unfrequented road. As he entered the long stretch of woodland of which his mother had spoken the night had gathered about him. The moon was not yet risen but the beautiful stars, glistened above liijp, and he thought' lie had never heard anything so delightful as the music of the frogs and grasshoppers and crickets, which was occasionally enlivened by the sleepy twitter of some bird: He broke off a supple stick and whisked the bushes as he walked along, wondering what his mother could mean by asking him if he would not be afraid. Afraid, indeed! lie would as soon think of being afraid in bis own rodm at home. What had he to be afraid of? The cool evening air fanned his cheeks and he kept thinking: “This is just the gayest lark 1 ever had; going through the woods nlone in the night, and carrying an 'important package,’ father said. I wonder what’s in it? How father does trust me; it’s good to be trusted” —and lie straightened himself up with a new sense of manliness. “ ilow nice and sweet and .pleasant it is,”, sniffing the air full of woody scents. “It is a thousand times nicer than day. I almost wish something would happen; it would be so jolly to tell the boys to-morrow.” Nothing did happen, though, until he had passed out of the woods and into'the open road beyond. The moon was jnsTiil ting itself in the east, „ a great ball of paly gold. He stoppeda moment to look at it, it was so large and bright, and seemed so verynear, ss though iie might.run through a field or two and then clasp it in his arms. Now for the something that happened! It was not a robber who rushed out upon him demanding bis money or liis life! It was not a bear" or a panther, or a wildcat! There were no sukli creatures in this peaceful town. What w as it, then? ( It was only a knife! A large, pearlhandled, pocket-knife that lay in the dirt, glistening in the moonbeams. He Was just close upon the station now. He had only to cross over the main road upon which he had entered, step into the office and deliver his package. He caught at the knife eagerly. It was a beautiful oue! One to make the eyes of a boy to shine and his heart to leap with gladness. ; Alek turned it over and over in his hand, opeiing each of its four shining blades successively, and trying each one upon the slick he carried in iis hand. What a treasure it was! no boy in town had so,handsome a one! Alek had never seen such a knife, and he whistled softly to himself, full of a blissful content. Then ? lie thought of the boys. “ Crackie! won’t they stare, though! they’ll all want*.to born w it. Well, I'll Tie generous ilfld lend- —-but wjiat made Alek start so suddenly and look all

about him, thrusting the knife down to the very bottom of his pocket ? A carriage stood by the platform. Three or four gentlemen were going up the steps to the big building. No one spoke to him —no one was near him—it was only a little voice in Alek’s heart that made him start, and shiver, and look all about him so fearfully. iLonly said, “ But the knife is not yours, Alek; you must find the owner and give it up." “So I must,” thought Alek. “ I guess I’d better go right in and see about it,” and he sighed rather hopelessly. He felt like one who had suddenly lost a fortune. It is true he had only held the knife for three or four minutes ; but jn that time he had felt all the pride of ownership, all the joy of possession, and now it was all over. He did not go in. He sat down <m the steps to consider; or, rather, to have a little private talk with his conscience. It ended in this wise: “ How' do I know anything about the owner? Hundreds of people are passing here every day. If anybody loses anything it’s his business to hunt it up. I ain’t obliged to run up to every man I meet and ask him if he’s lost anything. Besides, if I should say I’d found a knife somebody that it didn’t belong to might claim it. There are plenty of people mean enough to do it, I dare say.” This last settled it, and Alek went into the office to deliverJiis package. A gentleman stood by desk writing. Alek had often seen him. It was Pemberton, the great mill-owner. As the clerk stepped back to the desk after attending to Alek Mr. Pemberton said: “ Now, Knowlton, if you will just receipt that, it is all right, I believeand all the time he was fumbling in his pockets and looking about upon the desk and on the floor. “Have you lost anything?” said the clerk, as he began to look, too. “Only my knife! I was going to cut oft'that slip of paper—don’t trouble yourself, it is of no consequence. I must have drawn it from my pocket accidentally.” Then the subject was dismissed, and the talk went oft to freight and percentage. This all passed in a few seconds. Alek was walking toward the door. His hand was in his pocket holding the coveted knife. He stopped when Mr. Pemberton announced his loss. “This is his knife, then, and 1 must give it up,” he thought, with a gasp as his heart gave a great throb. Then, as the words, “of no consequence,” came to liis ears, and he saw how quickiy the matter was dropped, he said to himself; “There, it isn’t his, after all. He would be more concerned if it w r ere—such a stunner of a knife as this is.” So Alek took up his burden and walked on. Only a little knife, yet such a heavy, heavy burden as it proved. Alek walked on, but the spring was all gone out of hie step. It would take him.a long time to reach home at that rate. He stopped as he same to the woods. How dark it looked in there. Haw fearfully still it was. The croaking of frogs and chirping of crickets only seemed to make the stillness more audible, if one might be allowed to use such a phrase. “ What a dismal sound it is,” he whispered to himself. “I am half tempted to turn about and go the other way; but it is twice as far, and I should have to tell father what kept me so long. He would think me a coward, too. lam not a coward. I’ll go on. How jolly it was coming. How grand night seemed. It’s late now, though—who’d think half an hour would make such a difference? It seems so kind of solemn, and so—oh!”—and be leaped into the middle of the road a dead branch snapped and rustled down among the leaves. He laughed when he saw what a little thing had startled him so; but liis laughter sounded hollow, and echoed about him in a weird kind of way. He had always enjoyed the echoes in these woods before. He walked once more in a nervous way, looking back at every tenth step. He had a disagreeable, uncanny impression that.somebody was following him. Sometimes he would fancy he heard breathing close to his ear—felt it on his cheek; then he would turn quickly in terror to find it was nothing but the breeze. ■ He heard a carriage coming in the distancc, and iiow a new fright took possession of him! “It was Mr. Pemberton,” he thought “He will ask me to ride, and how can I with this knife in my pocket? It isn’t his knife, though! His w r as a little cheap thing, of ‘no consequence!’ If I’d only shown it to him, and settled it. I can’t dow, though! What if he should ask me if I found a knife? I guess I’ll crawl into the bushes till he goes by.” Poor little Alek! he climbed over the wall and hid among the bushes, just in season to peep out and see his father’s hired man ride by and leave him crouching there alone in the dismal wood. His tirst impulse, when he had sufficiently recovered from his astonishment, was to scream for him to stop. Then he thought, “ But I’ll have to explain if I do, and 1 can’t —I can’t —not to him.” He had just climbed to the top of the' wall when a great owl, with a loud hoot, brushed him with its wing as it went dapping into its nest. He tumbled from the wall, and rolled and scrambled through the briers into the road, his bands and face scratched, and his nice summer suit soiled and torn. “ Dear me!” he thought; “ if all comes of that hateful, hideous old knife. 1 wish I’d never seen it. I’ll throw it away. I’ll hide it, and then 1 can go on well enough. I’ve thought of it every minute of the way.” He ran on to where there w ; as a large shelving rock by the roadside, and, stooping down, tucked it under. This was just where the road intersected the one leading to the village; and as he lifted himself he saw a huge man, with outstretched arms, leaning darkly toward him. He jrave one piercing cry, and, covering his face with both hands to shut out the fearful sight, he sank down upon the ground trembling with fright. He lay jhere—ages, it seemed to him —< but, in reality, a very short time, expecting every moment to be gobbled up and carried off, or murdered, perhaps! “Oh! that knife— that dreadful knife!” He began to think that hiding it wns not enough. He must So something else. He must return it to the owner It was Mr. Pemberton's. He knew it. ...Had known it all the time. If this old black giant would let him off he would run right back with it. As he formed this resolution he began to wonder what the old man was about to let him lie there so long. Perhaps he only meant to frighten him, after all. He moved his fingers a little and peeped timidly.out. Then he drew his hands wholly a<vay and sprang to bill Teet —the’ giant had fadedYnto an old familiar “guide-

board," upon which, in the brilliant moonlight, he could read: “SEVEN MILES TO GRAYKIELD.” He did not laugt at his mistaKe. He had been too thoroughly frightened for that. It had all come to him as he lay there under the old guide-board— just what he was, what he had done! The fault was not in the knife; it was in him—in him! What would his mother say? Her Alek a thief! His good resolution did not fade away when his giant tormentor resolved itself into an old worm-eaten cross! Even with the unpleasant task of explanation and restitution before him he felt a delicious sense of freedom as he caught the knife from'its hiding-place and ran, back toward Pointnorth Station. All his cringing fears were gone now. As he ran the night grew beautiful about him again. He felt a sense of protection in the shining moon and twinkling stars. His heart grew lighter and more buoyant at every step. He had passed through such a terrible experience during the last half hour that it seemed a light thing to tell Mr. Pemberton what he had done; for he meant to tell him all —all, and feel that he had a clear conscience once ffiofe. Alek ran very fast, fearing that Mr. Pemberton would be gone before be arrived. He might go the otherway; then he would miss him and have to take home that dreadful knife after all! But no; lie was not to be disappointed! He emerged from the wood and there was Mr. Pemberton riding toward him! He waited till he came near and then shouted; “ Stop, sir! please stop, do stop!” The carriage drew up at once. “Why, my lad, what is the matter? You alarm me; has anything happened?” “Yes, sir; oh, yes! I’ve got it; here it is!” gasped Alek, all out of breath. “Here is what?” said the astonished gentleman, reaching down to the boy. “Oh, sir, your knife!” “My knife! Where did you get it? Why do you think it is mine?” “ Don’t you remember? You were in the station; I heard you tell Mr. Knowlton! I found it; I had it in my pocket all the time.” “So you thought you would keep it, did you?” “ Oh, yes, sir, I did! I tried to make myself believe it wasn’t yours, but I knew it was all the time. 1 didn’t think wliat I was doing then.” “And who told you to bring it back now?” “ Nobody, sir; oh, nobody! I couldn’t keep it when I came to think. ’Twas awful! awful! Oh, sir, I was almost a thief!” “ Whose boy are you?” “ John Greene’s, sir.” “ Well, come up to me, then. You are a brave little fellow. 1 know your father. I will take you home.” Then he added, as he drew him into the carriage, “I think I piusi give you this knife. Do you know it is quite valuable for a boy to have?” “ Oh, yes, sir! I thought so. but I couldn’t take it. You don’t know what a dreadful-time I’ve bach—No, no, sir—please don’t; I couldn't take it.” Mr. Pemberton saw that the hoy was greatly excited and kindly let the matter drop. Very soon, with a pleasant “ Good nignt, my brave fellow,” he set him down at his father's gate. In a very few minutes Alek had his arms about his mother’s neck, sobbing out the whole story. She soothed him, wisely and tenderly, as only a mother can, and when she kissed him “ Good night,” as lie lay upon his pillow, she said: “ Now my little boy knows the meaning of the verse lie asked me to explain Sunday.” Alek opened his eyes very wide a moment; then he said: “Oh, I know, ‘The wicked flee when no man purkueth.’ It seemed so strange to me then, mother; now it’s just as plain; but I think it was a dreadful hard way to find out, don’t you?” — Christian Union. —A man who has figured it out says that if the surplus wheat of California, estimated at 600,000 tons, were loaded in carts containing a ton each, and started overland, the head of the procession would be entering. Boston before tlie rear had left San Francisco. Or if the wheat was loaded into ships of 1,000 tons each it would take six hundred, and if these ships should sail in a line within sight of each other —say twenty miles apart — they would extend a distance of 12,000 miles, or one-half the circumference of the globe. —A couple of fellows wlio were pretty thoroughly soaked with bad whisky got into the gutter. After floundering for some time, one of them said: “ Let’s get to another house; this hotel leaks.” . Coughs, colds, sore throat and similar troubles, if allowed to progress, will result in serious pulmonary affections—frequently incurable. Wishart’s Pine Tree Tar Cordial reaches at once the seat of the disease and gives immediate relief. A I’ROTk'Udixg toe is not a pretty sight, and is never seen where children wear SILVER TIPPED Shoes. They will save half your •hoe bills. For Sale by All Dealers.