Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 35, Number 135, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 November 1903 — Old Blazer’s Hero [ARTICLE]

Old Blazer’s Hero

By DAVID CHRISTIE MURRAY.

CHAPTER i. On a winter night half a dozen ohiliren, romping in the roomy kitchen of a pleasant home in n typical coal mining/ Tillage, made a noise like the confusion of Babel. They were all well-tow do in aspect, rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed and wholesome. Within certain conditions a pleasanter sight than they afforded could hardly be asked for, though their presence and the noise they made gave but poor assistance to the study of the higher mathematics. A bearded young fellow of six-aml-twenty or thereabouts, with a penholder between his teeth, and a heap of papers scattered loosely before Mm, sat with both hands in his hair at a big table by the window, and looked about him occasionally with' an air of abstraction which always melted more or less quickly into a smile. The smile was invariably followed by. a momentary relaxation from study, while t&e ‘young man watched the joyow gambols of the children, who shouted all together with a wild hilarity, and seemed to acquire fresh vigor from the mere "fact of remaining unrebuked. Always in a little time the young man's smile grew abstracted, and faded slowly away as his thoughts gradually drew back to their •wn refuge.

A great fire with a solid core of red heat burned on the hearth, and on one side of it flat an elderly woman in a widow’s cap and a gown of respectable black. With all the diversity of feature! and expression which marked the group of children, there was so strong a like* Bess between the elderly woman in th* chimney corner and every individual member of the noisy little assembly that a stranger would have had no ditflcully in deciding their relationship. Like the children, the woman was plump, hi le eyed and rosy, but her countenance, for all its rosy plumpness, was drawn to an j expression of complaining resignation. Facing her sat n woman of a differtnt pattern—holt upright, lean, and full of aervous energy. Her knitting needles, which in the light of the glowing coals had a quite startling look of being red hot at moments, clicked with nn amazing swiftness and determination. Her evening dress of clean-washed and primly starched light print fitted tightly and gave to her ungniuly figure something of the look of an uasymmetrically packed pincushion into which the bran has been rammed too hard

There was a momentary hush among the children, while they took breath, and evolved plans for the making of wilder noise than they had yet created. After the receut hubbub the kitchen seen)edtalmost at peace by cont rast. Then hr a moment of iuspiratioq. one of the group proposed that their next amusement should be the game of Sacks to the Mill.; This cheerful and invigorating indoor pastime begins by everybody trying to catch hold of somebody else with a view to bringing him or her to the ground. This object in any one case once achieved. it becomes the business of the rest to choose a victim, and forcibly to deposit; ill at victims upon the recumbent figure./ This point is no sooner gained than a similar choice, ns swift and unanimous, remains to be made. Finally the gnqne develops into a wrestle of two, and that happy child wild lies uppermost on I the struggling pile is conqueror. The new game had only lasted for a minute or two when at one appalling and universal shriek, mingled of joy, terror, triumph and excitement, the woman in the print dress bundled her knitting needles, the unfinished stocking, and the ball of worsted all together, slapped them resoundingly upon the big table v and charged upon the struggling mob. 1 " She sorted them from the confused heap In which they lay upon the floor, and set them on their feet with a swiftness and dexterity which looked dangerous. There was a dreadful silence. The domestic resumed her knitting and her seat. The flashing needles clicked audibly for half a minute, and the children looked at each •ther with shy and disconcerted glances. “And how do you think your brother Edward can do his figures, 1 should like to know?" the decided female demanded. “Oh. let the children play. Hepzibah,” •aid the«.young man. looking up smilingly. “They don't hurt me. I’ve seen Sacks to the Mill played before to-night,” he added, laughing. “I, remember when I was quite a littleschhp going with a ; aurse of mine to some sort of Christmas merrymaking at Farmer Bache’s. She waa a buxom, strapping girl of about 17 or 18, and she had an eye like a sloe and a check like a cherry in those days." ] “Get along with you, Edward." said ! Hepzibah.- cutting the stopr short, and ' rising with an air of displeasure not too well affected. “I can't stay listenin' to your nonsense all night. Children! It’s time you was in bed. Kiss your mother and troop upstairs with you while 1 get the candle —there's good b’ys aud gells.”

\yhile the ceremony of kissing and saying gpodrnight vas in progress there came a rap at the front door of the home, and Hepzibnh hating disappeared into some darkened backward region in search of the candle, Kdtdhrd himself answered the summons. The open door admitted a draught of keen and wintry air sad s cloud of whirling snow Hakes. The white carpet on the road was unmarred accept by the track of the newcomer. “That you. Shadracli?” Edward asked. “Why. yes, Mistei ,\eo. ssra tne uirMsl, humbly. “1 thought I'd tek the liberty of tnekin’ a call this evenin', if I’d not held to W i’ the way.’’ “Not a bit of it,” responded Eduard. “Come in.” i The arrival kicked Ida toes ncdsNy •gainst the dooratone to clear his boots from the snow, and tlien mounting the step turned about.and repeated the procsss with his heels. “Come iu, Shadracfa, come in,” rspeat•4 Edward, standing half-sheltered from tk« roaring wind- “We shall have the bans* fall of snow.” “Uspslbsh's rhrs an' particular shout

her kitchen quarries. Mister Ned,” responded the other, entering with a clumpy step. “I’vc ketehed it too often not to have growed a bit particular myself.” Having eptered, he stood stamping in the dark and polishing his feet upon the doormat; and Edward, returning to the kitchen, left him to follow. “Here’s Shadrach,” he said, addressing Hepzibah, who had by this time found her candle, and was now peeking cautiously at the glowing fire with a very small scrap of paper to secure a light. “Oh,” said Hepzibah; “and what might he Want, traipsing all the mud out of the street into the kitchen, as was only clean swilled this blessed afternoon?” ~ $

“Eerliaps he’ll tell you,” said Edward, with a look of humorous mischief. “I’ve often thought lie would, and perhaps he may tonight. Who knows?” made no answer, tpt~ having secured a light, trooped the children out of the room, bestowing a passing nod upon the arrival, who was in the act of entering the kitchen, nnd stood on one side to let her pass. Shadrach, who had a long, meek face, and habitually wore his mouth a little open, was dressed in his Sunday black. He entered with a propitiatory nnd apologetic nfpeet, smoothing his hair ns if he were entering chapel, nnd, sitting on the extreme edge of the chair assigned to him, hid his fingers in the voluminous cuffs of his coat, aud concealed them further between his knees, as if it were a point of etiquette, painfully to be observed, that the hands shoulds life invisible. His eyes, wonderingly wide open as a baby’s, were carefully directed to objects which did not come well within their sphere; ns the shells on the high mantelpiece, the clock face to his left, nnd nn almanac tacked to the wall on his light. Since he made it a point of honor with himself not to move his head while lie regarded these things, the effect to a sympathizing observer was a little embarrassing. The greetings extended to him he answered in a deprecatory peacemaking sort of murmur, nnd altogether he was most exasperatiugly humble and unobtrusive.

By and by, however, he thawed so far as to observe that it was deadly cold, and bitter seasonable for the time of year; but Hepzibali’s entrance froze the conversational fount again, and- lie resumed his sheepish examination of the shells, the clock face and the almanac. Edward glanced now and again at him and Hepzibah with an outer seriousness, which, was belied by the twinkling of his eye; and after a pnitse, in which little was audible except the click of the knitting needles and the rumbling of the -winter wind in the chimney, the widow hex throat as if to speak, but Hepzibah held up the ball of worsted with an air of warning, and Shadrach spoke in her stead.

“The night,” said Shadrach, “is dark, the snow comes down. The wind is like a person’s frown; it stops the heart and chills the blood, An' does no mortal moil no good." ? “Theer!" said. Hepzibah, dropping her work into her lap, and laying her hands npou it with a look of answered expectation and wonder. “Did you rnek that up ns you come along. Shadrach?” “Finished it! that instant minute,” returned Shadrach, mildly. “It’s a gift,” he added, “as I wouldn’t tek no credit for, not if it was offered me. The highdears is put into the head. ! That's how it is. They'm put there.”

“Really!” said Edward, and then bolted with a haste which, to a bard less simple minded, might have looked suspicious. When he returned Shadrach had somewhat recovered from the seerlike trance, and was talking humbly and with an obvious fear of trespass to Hepzibah and the widow. “That's how it seems to be, Hepzibnh.” he was snyiug. “Young Mr. Ilackett's said to have surrounded the old men's scruples, and he's gi’en in his consentment, and his promise to asjnach as five hundred dollars ou the w-eddin’ day.”

"Will Hackett?” ssid Edward rather sharply. “Will Hackett isn't going to be married?” “That’s how it’s gi'en out. Mister Edward, the village over,” returned Shadrach. , If the ban! had been less concerned with the clock face and the shells he would have seen that Hepzibah was signalling to him, and had been from the nmmeut of the young man’s return. Edward stooped over the table and turned the figured papers about with an assumption of carelessness. “And who may be the young lady that’s been so happy as to win Will liackett?’’ he asked. Hepzibah dropped her signals, nnd. plunging back into her chair, took up a dozen false stitches with her knitting’' needles, and stopped the rapid clicking to undo them. . . “Ij's said to be Miss Mary Hoivarth, Mister Edward,’’ replied the unsuspecting Shadrach.

Tjtere was silence again for the space of h minute „or two. The young tnan l>etit over ids papers, took up his pen, dipped it in the ink pot, and made an unmeauing sign''or two. atnougst his figures. Then lie *Spoke in a voice of commonplace with the faintest touch of scorn: “Tliat sounds a likely story, Shadrach. Where did you get it?” “Why,” said Shadrach, “it*s not looked on for a likely sort o’ story, Mister Edward, but It’s known to lie true. Mr. Hackett's been a rackety sort of a chap, and Miss Uowapth has allays been that quiet sad chapel going, it’s a bit of a shake fee folks.” “H’mr said Edward. “I shea Id think so.” He lsid his pen down carefully after wiping if en the skirt of his coat, sad taking the papers iu both bauds

shook them delicately into order. "I an going out for a while, mother,” he said ns he bestowed the papers in a drawer below the table. “I shan’t be long.” He stooped over her and kissed, her and said good night. He left the room, nnd a moment later the front door was.* heard to plose behind him. Tiye widow dispatched Hepzibah for a caudW, and on its arrival bade the domestic and the visitor good night aud withdrew. “Well,” said Hepzibah in a bitter whisper when her mistress’ back was turned, “of all the wool-gathering fools as ever I do believe as you’re the king and eafitain.” “Why?” asked Shadrach. “What ha vs I done now?” “Couldn’t you see whpit iverybody elsp in the village could sefej as Edward worshiped the very ground as Mary Howarth trod on? And you must come and blurt out afore him as her's going to wed that scamp of a Will Hackett, as’ll mek her sup sorrow by the spqonful afore she’s done with him!”

“They didn’t seem to tek on about itmuch,” said Shadrach, mildly aelf-db-fensive, “nayther him nor his mother.” “Tek on?” said Hepzibah, rising and snatching at the knitting with a gesture of complete exasperation. “What did you expect him toTdo? —get on the table and howl? And as for his mother, her’s a creature as niver saw nothin’ in her born days and ud niver ha’ found so much as a church door unless her’d had somebody to arm her into it.” CHAPTER 11. In an, upper room in the Pitville Hotel on this same night of wind and snow there sat an assemblage of vocal amateurs whose use and wont it waatogether for their own amusement, and the practice of their favorite art, on Wednesday nights throughout the winter. The party consisted mainly of the younger tradesmen .of the town, with here and there a mechaniq, whose musical loves had lifted him a r&ng or two on the social ladder.

Down below sat the oldsters of the place, whose tastes ran rather for politics than music. To them, as they sat arranging the affairs of the nation, entered with something of a noisy swagger a young mall of luinSlßotnfe bus dissipated appearance, who bestowed a general salute upon the company. He was received with cordiality and a touch of respect not accorded to every comer, and whilst he stood sipping and chatting with the host there rose in the upper room a clatter of glasses and stamping of feet which communicated a sensible vibration to the floor. Then a piano began to tinkle, and a ventriloquial rendering of a popular song made itself faintly heard at intervals. The jingling piano filled in the pauses,, and the chorus rose in a defiant howl. “What's that?” asked the latest comer. “Why”’ said one, “it's held to pass for music with some on ’em upstairs.” “It’s well to know what it’s meant for,” said another. “Ah!” said a third, “if Mr. Hackett did go upstairs an’ show ’em what it moans to sing a song! It’s a goodish while; Mr. Hackett, since that countertenor of yours was heard here.” Mr. Hackett swaggered a little and tapped at his legs with the riding whip he carried.

“tome now,” said Hazeltine, the jobmaster. who had first ventured to broach the topic.' “|?ou might do a thing as ud please the present company a good deal less than by singing a song for us, Mr. Hackett.” ‘Tm in no great voice to-night," said Mr. Hackett, swaggering. “I’ll see how I feel by and by perhaps.” “Come!” cried the landlord, “that's r-a good as a promise.” “Well, Warden,” said Mr. HaeketV with an easy air of lordship, “let us go upstairs and see what the piano's like." The landlord threw open the door. The owner of the counter-tenor passed out and the company streamed after liim. The young fellow's appearance in tile upper rfiom was hailed with a mighty shouting and beating of tables, and like a man to whom this sort of reception was customary and commonplace, he nodded here and there about him, and seated himself in a chair which one 4bf his admirers had obsequiously vacated. The landlord had carried up Mr. Haekett's glass, aud the young man sat sipping its contents and chatting with affability and condescension "to those about him. All but the more important people stood in an admiring and expectant circle. “Oh,” said the landlord, “you see how the public opinion rung,.sir. Now we’ve got you here, if you happen to be in a yielding temper, it’ll be some time afore you get au’ay again.” (To be continued.)