The Deserter, and Other Stories

over the ridge-beam which had once been Asa Whipple's roof-tree; and the place then was in ruins. The rafters had fallen in; what was left of the sides were dry-rotten

suse. I suppose that to-day it would be as hard to find the house under the

pretty poor sort of habitation. The lowliest of Elisha Teachout's live-stock were consid

as still a veritable part of the Adirondacks. Whether Asa built it or inherited it from his father, a Revolutionary soldier who took u

was not a log house but a frame building, with broad planks nailed roughl

he window on the north side was of rude construction, and was evidently the work of some pers

eaked sadly in rainy seasons. There was no cellar under the house, but a rough lean-to woodshed at the back served to shelter any overf

t it was roofless an

ike the others, he cleared his land, got in his crops, built a barn for his cattle and produce, and ran

a comparatively young man, the hand of fate was

ys, they say, this sinister scourge of the thin-soiled northern farm lands on the forests edges. But

othing was simpler than to sell the cows, and allow the barn to fall to pieces. Much better than taking anxi

ul coppers. Here instead were luscious trout for the hook, and otter, mink, and even an occasional beaver for the trap; here in the greenwood, to the trained hunter, was spread a never-end

en the influence of advancing civilization compelled Mose to eke out a scanty living for his fathe

d, however, and he never pretend

the house, and this in so luke-warm a fashion that the net results-some potatoes, a lit

wanted it, instead of borrowing money from him on it to pay taxes for it, I c

ree hundred dollars in accrued interest upon the mortgages he held, and that to prevent his fore

life before it on the morning in que

had heard the talk in the barn about the certainty of his capture, but it made little impression on his mind. It did not even occur to him tha

farm-house before the temptation to be off again toward home mastered him

he fodder bins to eat on the way, and let himself

father might be perishing of hunger! He turned and bent his steps back across the yard to the hen-house, opened the door, and crept

the door, and started to run, stuffing a big,

he house he had journeyed so far and risked so much to return to, Mose was conscious of a heavy,

dly than before, and bent his

landscape, he noticed something he had missed before. There had been no path cut through from the house to the road. The frozen drifts

o dim, after the morning glow on the snow without, that it was hard at first to

ss to the stove, instinctively holding his hands over it. So dull a semblance of warmth

re an hour ago. Where was h

tick had been brought from the bed in the other room and spread there on the flo

re was disclosed before him the head of a man asleep-a head which he scarcely recognized at first sight, so p

elf say aloud, in a voice tha

er of pulse at the shrunken wrist which he i

till his lips touched the white hair. "

eem as though he saw his son, or anything else. His whitened lips moved, emitting some husky, unintel

y days-don't

tress of this awful situation, with lightning swiftness before his brain. He strode to the woodshed door

n another minute he had torn down half the roof, and

o be melted into water, on one of the open griddle holes; hacked the remaining turnip into slices, and then began at the fowl, stripping t

he rude stew under way, he kept an eager and apprehensive eye u

on account of the prodigious spluttering and crackling which the fire kept up. Through

tew. He looked about for a cover for the frying-pan. There was no such thing in the house, but he found in the shed an

king the mess on the stove palatable. But it would not be easy to tell with what emo

uence of the roaring fire, and now it began to be fill

emed unwarranted, was pardonable in Mose perhaps, for he him

Perhaps there would be some of the stew left, after the old man had eaten

im. He seemed to see himself eating the whole of that glorious stew, lingering with all

him. When, a few minutes later, the smell of burning warned him that the cooking was done, and he lifted the pan from the stove,

hem on the table, with such cutlery and spoons as he could find. He made a motion then to take off th

t to raise him to a more upright posture. Old Asa opened his eyes as before, and made

end of it up against the wall and raise

den expression of interest and reviving intellige

to defy the most appetizing stew in the world. He took off the cover with decision, and dipped the tea-cup up half f

ght temperature and consistency. He dipped a little finger into it to further satisfy hims

eat too fast or choke himself. After the first cupful, he brought a chair to sit in, and h

s rush of sensations within, but keeping up as best he could an indifferent exterior. I

ombined influences of food and warmth seemed fo

ence, and noting that something like

his forehead, and, turning his face up to look at his son, smiled. There was no lack of comp

hamed to tell it, but I'd laid down here just to go to sleep for good. I thought for quit

elf down like this, dad?" was

a soul since the big snowfall-up'ards of a fortnight. But-but it's all right now, ain't it, Mose? An' to

f footsteps on the crusted snow outside, th