Old Man Savarin Stories

. They crowded around her, nine of them, the eldest not more than thirt

the stools from which they had sprung up, or squatted again on the rough floor, they all burned their mouths in tasting the mush too eagerly. Then there

sugar, nor milk, nor butter to it, they found it a remarkably excellent sam

low, unpainted cradle. He never took his eyes off Number Eleven; he could not bear to look around and see the nine devouring the corn-meal so hungrily. Perhap

d in a dazed way at his big hands, and they

handle?" asked the fingers, "and

leven children and his wife next door to starvation; but if he had been asked to describe

e pot. Number Nine was diligently scraping off some streaks of mush that had run down the outside; Numbers Eight, Seven, Six, and Five were looking respectfu

ry Ann," he said. "I'll be h

ack into the pot, and ate the rest with much satisfact

"and the warmth is so comforting. Give me little Nor

was being scraped inside earnestly by Nine, Eight, Seven

ing the bowl in imagination; the others now moved their spoons absent-mindedly around in the pot, brought them empt

low; the smell of the mush went up into his nostrils, and

in me to-night. Sure, I wish the childer wouldn't lea

; the remaining four went to the four youngest. Then the bowl was skilfully scraped by Number Nine, after which Num

is blouse pocket through a similar process. He found no pockets in his well-patched overcoat when he took it down, but he pursued the dust into its lining, and sepa

ong or very foolish. Peter McGrath was, in truth, out of work because he had committed an outrage on economics. He had been guilty

e at least thirty dollars a month, when the demand was only strong enough to yield him

er, old John Pontiac. "I'm offering you the best wages going, mind

ork, boss, but I'm fit to a

ages were forty. That could only be with trade active, and a fine season for

hard. I'm not

all the other hewers thirty; and that's not all. Scorers and teamsters and road-cutters are used to getting wages in proportion to hewers. Why, i

ily to Mary Ann when he reached the cabin. "The old boss is getting too hard li

over, she did think the offered wages very low, and had some hope he might better himself; but when he came back from Stambrook, she saw trouble a

ng the boss again, maybe, P

ter me in a few days, you'll see." But there

y wages. The season was the worst ever known on the river, and before January the shanties were dischargi

n Pontiac. Indeed, he soon got it into his stupid head that the old boss was respons

ing what on earth was to become of them all next day. For a man out of work there was not a dollar of credit at the little

m, through the thin partition of upright boards, pasted over with newspaper

; Number Eleven in her cradle beside; Nine crosswise at the foot; Eight, Seven, Six, Five, and Four in the other bed; One

ver therein. She had actually beaten the meal out of the cracks to make that last pot of mush. He knew that all the fish he had salted down in the summer were gone, that the flour was all out, th

ow, all her sufferings and the children's were light to her, in comparison,

ndered, and was scared. She opened the door very softly, and there he was, leaning on the rail fe

t had a friendly look; he was soon reminded of the steam from an immense bowl of mush! It vexed him. He looked up at the moon. The moon was cert

road to where he could see, on the hill half a mile distant, the shimmer of John Pontiac's big tin-roofed house. He thought he could make

hes of bacon in the smoke-house, bags of beans, chests of tea,-he had a vision of them all!

had refused to pa

out went his gaze to the space of mist; it was still more painfully like mush steam. His p

felt that minute. How dumbly the elder ones would reproach h

through the walls of the store

husband. "John, wake up! there's someb

'sleep-ugh." H

wake up! Ther

-eh-what

y getting into t

re's not m

con and ham. Then there'

ess there

I'm sure. You

ugh them, the storehouse, the smoke-house, and the other white-washed out-buil

too much. Still he was sorry for the man, no matter who, in that smoke-house,-some Indian prob

he smoke-house; there was no one in it; there was a g

e looked in, then stopped, and started back as if in horror. Two flitches tied together w

old John Pontiac to himself, shrinking arou

ed more than that pig-headed Peter. What to do? He must punish him of course; but how? Jail?-for him with

said to himself after a little reflection. "I'l

hat the literal Devil had first tempted him near the house, then all suddenly-with his own hunger pangs and thoughts of his starving family-swept him into the smoke-house to steal. But he had consented

met the face of Pontia

his eleven children and his wife-he felt himse

bit early, but there wouldn't have been any harm in an old neighbor like you waking us up. Not a word of that-hold on! listen to me. It would be a pity if old friends like you and me, Pet

ot speak; h

you again. There's a job of hewing for you in the Conlonge shanty,-a man gone off sick. But I ca

aid nothing;

hand to carry the truck home. I guess your wife won't mind seeing me with you; then she'll know that you've

rible gasps between. "Boss-O, my God, Mr. Pon

w all about it; I guess I do. Sometimes a man is driven he don't know how. Now we will say no more a

terrible frame of mind.

o resume his privileges as an infant. One after another they got up and huddled around her-craving, craving,-all but the three eldest, who had been we

; next a bag of flour, and again an actual keg of sirup. Why, this was almost incredible! And, last, he came in with an immense round loaf of

of a loan. It's well I met Peter to-night. Maybe he'd never have told me your troubles-not but what I blame myself for not suspecting how it was a bit sooner. I just made him ta

, God bless you, Mr. Pontiac! it's a kind ma

the sleigh; she put the baby in his arms, and cling

o? Why, he cried, too, with gasps and

ards-he stands on. You don't know what he's done-for me. It's broke I am-the bad

ed to-night. Come away in and get a bite for him. I'd like a dish of tea myself b

n't you be troubling your wife with any little secrets about

have helped him to become a very prosperous farmer, his wife does not quit

ver knew the st

ning out the light, on returning to bed, "exc

ped him! Well, John,

on you, and all of us! Let us bless God that he's saved us from the terriblest temptations, and th