The Deserter, and Other Stories
nd old men remember how the deer used to be driven to their clearings for food, when the snow had piled itself breast high through the fastnesses of the Adirondacks. The wi
aylight came, but the darkness of this early hour made it almost too much for flesh and blood to bear. There had been
des a bucket, a lantern to help him in his impending struggle with the pump. This ancient contrivance had been ice-bound every morni
o himself the previous day that if the pump-handle were propped upright with a stick overnight, there w
sledge-stake, and then a disheartening amount of dry pumping to be done before the welcome d
back with it to the cow-barn, stam
o long lines of cows, a score or more on a side, faced each other in double rows o
oreover, and half a dozen lantern lights were gleaming for the hired
blood running and spirits light. They talked as they plied shovel and pitchfork, guessing how near the low-mercury mark of twenty below zero the
bove the soft, crackling undertone of the kine munching
had brought from the well, and started at the end of one of the rows to wash clean the full udder of each of the forty-odd cows i
, the loud din of the streams against the sides o
ok his red, dripping hands with a groan of p
ed malt generates within its bulk so keen a heat that even when the top is frozen there will be steam within. Job went over and plunged his cold hands to the wrist in the smoking fodder. He h
ng glow, had hit upon something of an unusual character in the barrel. He felt of it vaguely for
skill than the schoolboys of those days used to possess; and in its outer rim
e one of the hired men had unconsciously slipped it off while warming his hands in the gr
glanced at the trinket, and making a negative sign bent down again
ith your spongin' off; I'm
esumed his task. The water was as terribly cold as ever, and the sudden change seemed to
he ring contained a priceless jewel, the proceeds of which enriched the finder for life. Clearly no such result was to be looked for here. It was doubtful if anybody
ass unnoticed. The boy pondered the mystery of how the ring got into the barrel. For a moment he dallied with the notion that it m
would not have them of rubber. Besides, the grains had only been carted in from town two
here for grains, he had noticed that the workers were cheerful and hearty fellows. No doubt they might be
on account of its family associations. Such things had happened before, according to the story-books;
red-faced Englishman with the big watch-chain, whom he had seen once walki
milkers behind him were talking about the ring. They had to shout to one another to ove
called out. "Don't you remember? He made it with his jack-knife,
ways whittlin' out somethin' or other-a pea
ick abed. Nobody ain't seen him around for up'ards of a fortnight. I guess
d the first speaker; "that is if you call it 'listin' when a
it applied to the interest he owes on his mortgage. That'
ay. If it wasn't one it'd be another. Never knew a fellow in all my born days with so little git-up-and-git
le fishin', an' a little huntin', an' keep a dozen traps or so in the woods, an' he'd throw up the best-payin'
n't feelin' right that spring, an' give up half his month's wages to go home, an' then what do we see next day but him an' his fathe
of the milkers exclaimed, and a
er, and had sent Moses Whipple to the front in his place. This relation between the rich man and the poor man was too common a thing in those w
zed the ring. Surely enough, the clumsily scratched initials on the little si
w the ring came in the barrel. The lad turned the pr
among his intimate friends, and Job's earliest recollections were of seeing the two start off toge
ne of them had not-Job reflected that probably this very morning he himself would be sle
ng. The boy, indeed, found himself dwelling upon the amiable side of Mose's shiftless nature. He remembered how Mose used to com
tent eye on the boy. Only the previous Christmas he had managed, somehow, to obtain an old pair of skates as a present for Job, and when he had gone to
He resolved that that very day, if he could squeeze in the time for it, he would cu
since his Mose went away. It was only too pro
the township. Left to his own resources, and failing swiftly all at once in he
owerfully built old man fumbling at his needles like
hat people were making woollen mittens and stockings now, like everything else, by machinery. Ve
spite of everything, he
ers off the tops of all the cans but one, and fastening on the covers instead. He could hear the bells on the harness o
supply of hay for the cows. Six weeks of winter had pretty well worn away the nearest haymow, and the boy had to go
unded, which had no business in a haymow. It rolled from under his feet, and threw him off his balance to his hands and kne
o it was that he had thus strangely encountered. There was just light enough from the distant lantern to
he began, in
erce whisper, "unless you want t
Short stories
Romance
Romance
Romance
Romance
Romance