5 MO
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 BY MRS. MARTHA E. BERRY, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "CROOKED AND STRAIGHT," "CELESTA," ETC. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 WILLIAM V. SPENCER. 
 1868.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 
 
 WILLIAM V. 8PENCEE, 
 In the Clerk's office of the District Court for the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 ROCKWELL ft ROI.LTWS, PRINTERS AKD STERBOTTPKBS, 
 12-J Washington Street, Boston.
 
 PEEFACE. 
 
 THIS second volume of Jotham's history, which is 
 founded in truth, is now offered to the public, with 
 the hope that those boys who get the wild fancy 
 that some other place is better than home, may 
 pause and think before they leave a mother's tender 
 care, or a father's judicious corrections. Better is 
 home discipline than a stranger's. 
 
 (in)
 
 CELESTA STORIES. 
 
 I. CELESTA. 
 
 II. CROOKED AND STRAIGHT. 
 III. THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. PAOB 
 
 BEFORE MIDNIGHT 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE GLOOMY DAY 28 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 FINDING A HOME 47 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 THANKSGIVING .... - 66 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 FIRST TRIAL AT WORK 85 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 CHURNING AND PUMPING . . . . . . .104 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 THE NEW CLOTHES . 123 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 JOTHAM'S THANKSGIVING ....... 143 
 
 (v)
 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER EC. 
 CHOPPING AND ITS EFFECTS ....... 162 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 LIGHTS AND SHADOWS ........ 1W 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 HOPE LOST 
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 ELLEN JORDAN .......... 
 
 CHAPTER 
 SUDDEN DEPARTURE ........ 242 
 
 CHAPTER XTV. 
 HOME ............ 262
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED.
 
 T 
 
 HE LROOK pTRAIGHTENED, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BEFORE MIDNIGHT. 
 
 cold and cheerless it seemed on that 
 country road. The evening was frosty ; there 
 were no singing-birds enlivening the twilight, 
 no hum of insects lulling the ear. The songsters had 
 gone to their southern homes, the crickets and the 
 locusts had been chilled by the autumnal blasts, and 
 there was silence in nature's laboratory. 
 
 To Jotham this silence was terribly oppressive. 
 Not a sound greeted his ear save the occasional merry 
 voices of children as he passed a house where was a 
 happy circle ; and these notes fell painfully upon his 
 ear, for they reminded him that he was now homeless. 
 He remembered how often he and Harry had made 
 their home vocal with laughter, and then he thought 
 sadly that for him there was a home no more. He was 
 a runaway. 
 
 9
 
 10 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 He was now six miles from the city, half way be- 
 tween two villages, and the large barns surrounded by 
 broad fields told him that he was in a region of farm- 
 ers. Comforts appeared plentiful in the houses he 
 passed ; but for him there were none. Supperless lie 
 walked on ; for what else could he do ? It was too cold 
 to stand still, or to sit down to rest. The wind 
 pierced through his jacket; he shivered, and hunger 
 grew imperious. The absence of street-lights, to 
 which he had always been accustomed, added to the 
 gloom. 
 
 The boy's knowledge of country-life had been de- 
 rived principally from his visits at his grandfather's 
 farm, and as these had been always in the summer, he 
 had no idea that a rural road could seem so dreary and 
 desolate. The trees, stripped of their verdure, were 
 far less inviting than when their rustling leaves en- 
 ticed travellers to their shades on a warm day; and 
 the grass, embrowned by frosts, seemed to have lost 
 its velvety softness. Few carriages were passing, and 
 these, in the absence of street-lamps, seemed groping 
 their way in darkness. 
 
 Two or three times Jotham paused. 
 
 "I've half a mind to go home," he mused. "What 
 if father should scold ? I don't believe he would give
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 11 
 
 me any other punishment, and I can bear the scolding. 
 I ought to bear it, for I deserved it. I did wrong. 
 Yes, I was mean to go stealing an old lady's apples. 
 No wonder father was angry. I'll go home, for I'm 
 dreadfully hungry. I have had nothing but an apple 
 since breakfast, and now it is past supper-time. I've 
 nowhere to go, nowhere to sleep to-night. I don't 
 want to beg, and I've no money." 
 
 Putting his hands in his pockets, he shook the few 
 coppers he happened to have ; but there were not 
 enough to even buy him a supper, and if there were, 
 where would he buy it ? There were no refreshment 
 rooms on that quiet road ; he must go to some private 
 house, and delicacy forbade that ; it seemed like beg- 
 ging- 
 
 Every moment the unhappy boy grew more unde- 
 cided. Should he go home, or should he not? Finally, 
 as the darkness deepened, and he grew yet more 
 hungry, he stopped in earnest thought, then resolutely 
 turned his face homeward. It seemed as though 
 Annette was beckoning him. He could hear her voice 
 calling, " Jotham, Jotham, come home." 
 
 He remembered how she followed him the evening 
 previous, how she sat on the stone by the roadside and 
 pleaded with him. Then he thought of her headache
 
 12 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 this morning, caused, undoubtedly by her exposure 
 and anxiety. 
 
 "And now," he said to himself, "I have run away 
 from her again. She cannot follow me ; she does not 
 know where I am. Perhaps she is weeping for me, 
 for she always seems to love me. I'll go home. Yes, 
 I will." 
 
 Under the strength of this resolution, he rapidly 
 retraced the road he had come. Now that he had 
 decided, he seemed in haste to return and know the 
 worst. His steps were almost a run; but at length 
 nature grew weary, and he walked with less speed. 
 Even the thoughts of his mother's pantry and table 
 failed to hurry him. He was thoroughly tired ; and, as 
 he walked more slowly, he mused again, 
 
 " For what am I going home ? To get something to 
 eat. Perhaps I cannot get it. Perhaps I cannot be 
 allowed to stay at home ; father said that if I stepped 
 once more from the path of rectitude he should be 
 done with me forever ; and of course he will call this a 
 crime, for didn't I come away this morning when he 
 told me to go to school ? Haven't I stayed away all day ? 
 Oh, yes, he will say this is as bad as stealing apples ! 
 He will not let me stay at home. He said such a boy 
 as I ought to work; that I ought to earn my own
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 13 
 
 bread; and I said, 'Very well, I can, sir.' Now here 
 am I, going home because I am hungry. That doesn't 
 look like earning my bread. But what can I do ? The 
 captain wouldn't take me ; and if some other captain 
 would take me, I don't really want to go to sea. It 
 must be very hard to live and work as the sailors do, 
 tossing all the time on those terrible waves ; especially 
 when it is cold like to-night. No, I don't want to go 
 to sea. I can't stay and work in the city, for father 
 will find me out, and what shall I do?" 
 
 As he walked along, the cry of a child arrested his 
 steps, and then he heard the harsh voice of a man, 
 saying, " Go into the house, child ! There, take that 
 for your ugliness ! " 
 
 The man and the child were in a shed near the road, 
 and Jotham distinctly heard the rude blow upon the 
 ear as the child went screaming into the house. 
 
 "That's an ugly father," thought Jotham. "My 
 father is just so. All fathers are ugly. If I go home 
 I'll be treated just so. I won't go home. I won't 
 stand such treatment. I never'll go home. Father 
 would be just so cross to me, and Annette couldn't 
 stop him. He said he would never listen to her again. 
 No, I cannot go home. I have no home now. My
 
 14 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 father's home is not my home. He said he had done 
 with me forever." 
 
 Once more the wanderer turned, and over the cold 
 road he ran again. On into the country he went, 
 neither heeding nor caring whither. His heart had 
 grown bitter and decided. Whether he kept a straight 
 course, or whether he turned, he knew not nor cared. 
 Really he fyad wound away from the main road, and 
 was in the midst of a rural population. Somewhere 
 from a distant steeple, as he quietly pursued his deter- 
 mined way, he heard the ringing of the evening bell, 
 and it recalled him to his situation. 
 
 " It is nine o'clock," he said to himself, " and here I 
 am, so tired I can hardly step. My feet ache so I 
 think they'll come through my boots. I wish I had a 
 good bed. I must sleep somewhere." 
 
 A shadow loomed up in the distance before him, and, 
 as he approached it, he perceived it to be a barn. It 
 stood alone, at some way from the house to which it 
 evidently belonged, and as the wearied boy drew near, 
 two men left the barn with a lighted lantern. The 
 heavy door swung together after them, and Jothara 
 observed that they did not lock it. He drew back a 
 little, lest he should be observed, and paused, while
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 15 
 
 the men went to the house. "When all was still again, 
 he cautiously approached the barn-door. 
 
 " If I could only get in here," he thought, half- 
 frightened at his own temerity, " perhaps I could find 
 a place to sleep. I wouldn't do any harm. I'd get up 
 early, and go off before anybody comes." 
 
 Timidly he placed his hand upon the large iron 
 latch, and, as he raised it, it clicked with a heavy 
 sound. Frightened, he paused, but as no one came, 
 he ventured to raise the latch once more with greater 
 caution. 
 
 "It see*ms like being a house-breaker," he said to 
 himself; " but I can't help it. I must sleep somewhere, 
 and I won't do a bit of harm." 
 
 Opening the door just wide enough to admit his 
 body, he crawled silently through, and closed it again. 
 How his heart beat ! He could feel it, almost hear it, 
 bounding! With a strong effort at calmness, he 
 stepped softly one side, and hit against a barrel. His 
 hand involuntarily extended as a balance, and came 
 down upon some large, fair apples. Yes, they were 
 apples. He could feel the stems, the smooth skins, 
 the blossomed ends, and he was so hungry! How 
 good an apple would taste ! 
 
 Almost unconsciously he raised one to his lips, and
 
 16 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 his teeth were in it. It was sweet and delicious, but 
 a sudden thought struck him, a pang of remorse. 
 The apple was not his. He had stolen it, and it was 
 bitten ! 
 
 "What can I do?" he asked himself, in anguish. 
 "Everything I 'do is wrong. I must be a terribly 
 wicked boy. Oh, dear ! But I have it ! Yes, I 
 know what I'll do. I'll eat the apple, and before I go 
 out in the morning I'll leave a cent where the men 
 can find it. That will be fair." 
 
 Scarcely had he uttered this resolution, ere a light 
 flashed through the key-hole of the door,* the iron 
 latch clicked, and men's boots were shuffling on the 
 frozen ground outside. 
 
 Jotham was paralyzed. His heart, which had been 
 leaping at a "double-quick," suddenly paused. The 
 apple in his hand was clenched with twofold force, 
 and the mouthful between his teeth seemed fastened as 
 in a vice, while his terrified eyes fixed themselves upon 
 the key-hole through which the light was streaming. 
 
 Suddenly the key-hole was darkened, something was 
 thrust into it, then there was the turning of a lock, 
 then the key was removed, the light flashed through 
 again, and the motionless boy realized that he was 
 locked in.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 17 
 
 For several minutes after the departure of the man 
 he remained like a statue. He could scarcely realize 
 that he had escaped ! He could hardly believe that he 
 was alone again, uncaught ! In that brief moment he 
 had seen before his imagination himself a prisoner, 
 handcuffed as a thief, and he had realized the horrors 
 of a trial, and a prison at the end. 
 
 Now, as the sound of the footsteps died away, and 
 he was once more alone, his heart gave a new re- 
 bound, his jaws relaxed, and the apple resting between 
 his teeth felt their power. His first impulse was to 
 run. He would escape from a position of so much 
 danger. But how? The door was locked. There 
 might be other doors, but, in groping after them, he 
 might full into trouble. Added to all, he heard ii 
 heavy bark outside. A dog was probably there to 
 guard the premises. 
 
 " Bow-wow," with a coarse voice went the mastiff, 
 just before the barn-door, and again Jotham thrilled. 
 Why should the dog stand there, barking? 
 
 " He has found out I am here," said the terrified 
 boy. "Dogs always do find out people. Oil, dear! 
 I'm afraid the man will come back again." 
 
 But the man having just come from the barn, and
 
 18 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 believiug everything safe there, couldn't comprehend 
 the barking of the dog. 
 
 " Here, here, sir," he called, looking back at him by 
 the light of the lantern. " Come here ! There, no 
 noise ! That's a good fellow. Save your barking till 
 there's need of it." 
 
 Very unwillingly the animal obeyed, looking back 
 suspiciously ; but the master soothed and petted him, 
 till, finally, he grew reconciled, and walked content- 
 edly away. All this Jotham heard as his quickened 
 ears listened attentively, and presently he compre- 
 hended that now he was truly left alone. The dog and 
 his master were gone, and he whom they would have 
 locked out was safely locked in. 
 
 The stamp of a horse, the nibbling of hay, and the 
 low breathing of cows told the prisoner who were to 
 be his room-mates. They were new companions, but 
 they could neither betray nor punish him, aud, with 
 that reflection for a solace, he stealthily crept along, 
 feeling his way by the guidance of the hay scaffolds, 
 and peering through the barn-floor dimly discernible 
 by his eyes now used to the darkness. Half way 
 through the barn was a bay from which the hay had 
 been partially taken, and into this he climbed by 
 mounting a low railing. Thence, groping, he crawled
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 19 
 
 up a short ladder, placed against a high scaffold, and 
 passing up this, was soon safely lodged beneath the 
 eaves, rolled over behind the hay, and half buried 
 under it. 
 
 He grew warm, and his bed was soft, but it seemed 
 unnatural, and he could not sleep. All around was 
 quiet, but within him was a tumult. The agony of 
 affright through which he had just passed had wholly 
 changed him. Before that, he had felt like a very 
 independent boy running away from an unjust father; 
 now he seemed like a criminal, trespassing upon 
 another's man's property, guilty of stealing, and of 
 lodging upon his premises without leave; indeed, it 
 seemed to him that he was guilty of every offence, so 
 mean lie had become in his own eyes. 
 
 As he lay on his hay-bed he thought of Harry, 
 wondered whether he was quietly sleeping, or whether 
 they were all anxious about him, so that they could 
 not sleep in his own home. 
 
 "I reckon father's angry enough by this time," he 
 said to himself. "He'd storm if I should go home 
 now. No, I'll not go home. Not I. I told father I 
 could work, and I can. I'll go to work on a farm. 
 I've seen farm-work done at grandfather's. I could do 
 auythiug. But I do wish I had never gone with
 
 20 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 George ; then I should not have displeased father. No, 
 [ don't wish so, either. George is a good fellow. 
 Father is cross." 
 
 Thus distracted by conflicting emotions, he lay till 
 nearly midnight, revolving plans at one moment 
 which were to be rejected the next. Finally, tired 
 nature could endure no longer, and he sunk into 
 a heavy sleep. 
 
 Far away from him, on that same night, there were 
 other sleepless eyes. In his own home a mother was 
 weeping, a father was threatening, a brother wonder- 
 ing, and a sister, unconscious, lay moaning and 
 tossing on her fevered bed. But still further away, 
 in a distant country town, an aged couple sat talking. 
 Many years they had happily trodden the vale of life, 
 pleased with each other and with the world around 
 them. Much good they had done in their little sphere, 
 and now they wished to add one more happiness to 
 the circle they loved. 
 
 " I'm so glad you've thought of it," said Grand- 
 mother Wilson. " You are always thinking something 
 good, though you are so afraid somebody will know 
 it." 
 
 " Poh ! " rejoined grandfather," this is nothing very 
 good. It is just for my own gratification."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 21 
 
 " But it is good," replied grandmother, " and it will 
 make us all happy. I am sure I shall be happy in 
 going. Jotham and Annette will be delighted to see 
 us, and I am sure Josiah will give us a cordial wel- 
 come to his Thanksgiving table, especially if we 
 provide our own dinner." 
 
 "Well, I've been thinking," replied grandfather, 
 " that 'twould be too lonesome to stay here all day, 
 and only you and I trying to eat a turkey with Jones 
 and Smith. They can stay and eat with Sally Ann, 
 while you and I go to our son's. Maybe we shan't 
 take many more journeys together till we take that 
 last long one." 
 
 A tear trickled on grandmother's fair cheek, and 
 grandfather's ruddy face gleamed in the rays of the 
 fire. 
 
 "We've had many happy years together," the old 
 gentleman said. 
 
 And grandmother added, "They're about over 
 now! Yes, we'll go to Josiah's to Thanksgiving. 
 It will be a treat for the children. I can fancy Jotham 
 stepping proudly toward us with his defiant manner, 
 Annette with her loving caress, and Harry placidly 
 saying, 'I am glad to see you, grandmother.' Yes,
 
 22 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 we'll go to Thanksgiving. Three weeks from to-mor- 
 row, isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes," replied grandfather, "and you'd better write 
 to-morrow to tell them about it. Tell them that on 
 the Tuesday previous we will send a box full of good 
 things, so they need not be at any trouble on our 
 account. That is best, isn't it?" 
 
 " Certainly, father. You always know what is best. 
 We'll put in a turkey and chickens, a cheese and some 
 butter, pies, cakes, and a quantity of those little 
 knick-knacks I make which they love. We'll have a 
 happy visit, I'm sure. I'm glad Jotham is doing so 
 well, now. I think he will earn the rewards I prom- 
 ised him. You remember, don't you? I promised 
 him a Bible at the end of the year, if he would try to 
 pray every morning and evening. I tried to explain 
 to him that the best safeguard of our life is prayer. 
 Besides that, I promised him a five-dollar gold piece 
 if he would keep at the head a year ; and he said he 
 could do that easily enough. The year will end next 
 summer, and, if he keeps on as he has begun, he'll be 
 sure to win both prizes." 
 
 "I hope he will," replied grandfather. "He is 
 capable of becoming a smart man. He has ability and
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 23 
 
 energy. If he can only be kept from bad companions 
 he will do well enough." 
 
 "That is not quite all he needs," rejoined grand- 
 mother. " He needs most of all, a high aim, and a 
 noble purpose. Give him that, and he will outride 
 temptation. That was why I proposed to him to 
 strive to keep at the head of the class. While he is 
 aiming for that he will become interested in his 
 studies; having gained the head, he will be proud 
 of his position and will try to keep it. Then I felt 
 the necessity of impressing him with the importance 
 of a religious life. I wanted to lift him up to higher 
 motives, and I know that nothing so elevates the 
 mind as earnest prayer." 
 
 " Well," replied grandfather, "1 hope your efforts 
 will be successful. I wish I could see the scamp this 
 minute. When he ran away with my colts last 
 summer, I thought I should never have any more 
 patience with him ; but I declare, he was so sorry for 
 that, I could not help forgiving him." 
 
 Thus the old people communed, sitting together in 
 the glow of the fire-light, grandmother busily knitting, 
 and her portly, ruddy consort toying with the corner 
 of the last weekly paper, in which he had just finished 
 reading the state of the markets, and the general
 
 24 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 summary of news. At length grandmother glanced 
 at the tall clock standing in the corner. 
 
 "See there, father! It is eleven o'clock! When 
 did ever you and I sit up so late ? It seems like forty 
 years ago, when the hours we sat together were but 
 as moments." 
 
 " Ah, ha ! " laughed grandfather, " when you thought 
 it was not midnight, and that the redness in the east 
 was some fire broken out. You couldn't believe the 
 sun was about to rise." 
 
 Grandmother smiled. " So you haven't forgotten 
 that, have you? Well, you were as much surprised 
 as I. You didn't think it was morning." 
 
 " No, I confess I didn't. It was a short night, that's 
 a fact. You know 'that was the first time you fairly 
 promised me to be mine always. You haven't been 
 sorry, have you?" 
 
 "Never, father, never. Some trials we've had to- 
 gether, but they have only endeared us to each other. 
 Three of our little ones lie under the sod. Only 
 Josiah is left to us, but he is a good son, and has 
 three as fine children as are to be found." 
 
 "So they are," added grandmother. "Annette is a 
 gem, Harry is good, and Jotham will be extra if he 
 only tries."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 25 
 
 The old lady rolled up her knitting, put the ends of 
 her needles carefully through the ball, and, rising, 
 dropped the work into a basket on the table, while 
 grandfather covered the fire with ashes, inspected the 
 fastenings of the doors and windows, and soon the 
 household was in quiet sleep, while the Jotham of 
 their love, hidden under the eaves of a stranger's 
 barn, sunk into repose from anxiety and exhaustion. 
 
 The next day it became known through the neighbor- 
 hood that Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were going to the city 
 to spend Thanksgiving with their son. 
 
 " It's a great undertaking for them at their time of 
 life," Mrs. Furbur said; but Mrs. Mason said, "that 
 the very thought of the visit seemed to make them 
 ten years younger." 
 
 Annette's friend Julia came as soon as she heard of 
 the intended expedition, and her smiling face beamed 
 with beauty as she entered. 
 
 " O Grandmother Wilson, I heard you were going to 
 see Annette at Thanksgiving ! " 
 
 " Yes, darling, I expect to." 
 
 Grandmother's love called all young people darlings. 
 
 "Well, grandmother, I am glad you are going. I 
 wish I could go too. I do so like Annette. There's 
 no girl here I like so well."
 
 26 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " She is worthy of your love, Julia," answered 
 grandmother, proudly. "If I do say it that shouldn't 
 say it, there isn't a better girl in the country, always 
 excepting you, Julia." 
 
 " Oh, don't except me, grandmother, I can't compare 
 
 with her. But give her my love, won't you? And tell 
 
 ; 
 Jotham I haven't forgotten when he fell into the 
 
 pond." 
 
 Soon after Julia left, wild Jack Furbur came in. 
 
 "Mrs. Wilson," said he, striding across the room, 
 and pausing before the fire, " they say you are going 
 to spend the Thanksgiving with Jotham." 
 
 " I expect to, Jack." 
 
 "That'll be jolly, Mrs. Wilson. Jotham's a grand 
 fellow if he did run away with the colts. He's got a 
 big heart, and he just opens wide to a fellow." 
 
 " Ah, Jack, too wide, sometimes, I fear. However, 
 we'll hope for the best." 
 
 " And the best will be sure to come, grandmother. 
 You see father talks to me sometimes, thinks I'm 
 going to be wrecked and ruined because I like a little 
 fun. But how's a fellow to keep always a long face 
 on? I can't, and I tell father so. But I must tell you 
 what I came over for. The fact is, I want a pair of 
 skates, and I earned the money long ago; but there
 
 THE CnOOK STRAIGHTENED. 27 
 
 isn't a single pair in town that I like. Now, T want 
 you to ask Jotham to buy me a real tip-top pair, the 
 best he can find in the city. Tell him to try them on. 
 If they fit him they'll fit me. Our boots are the same 
 size. Tell him I'm going to beat every fellow in these 
 parts, skating, this winter, and if he'll come up I'll try 
 a race with him. Here's the money." 
 
 Grandmother promised to fulfil the message, and 
 then Jack bounded away. Soon came little Johnny 
 Mason, quietly gliding in. 
 
 " Grandma Wilson, be you going to see Harry?" 
 
 "Yes, darling, I am going." 
 
 " I do want to send Harry something, grandma; but 
 I don't know what to send. Will you carry him a bag 
 of chestnuts if I will bring them to you ? " 
 
 " That I will, Johnny, and right glad he'll be of them 
 too." 
 
 Johnny went out again, and grandmother murmured, 
 " Bless their hearts, all of them ! They are all good, 
 and I like to make them happy."
 
 28 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE GLOOMY DAT. 
 
 , ORNING dawned slowly into Jotham's narrow 
 bedchamber. The warmth of the hay so 
 snugly packed about him had deepened his 
 slumbers, and at the early dawn, at the very time he 
 had intended to effect his escape, he was still soundly 
 sleeping. The cattle wore astir in the stalls below, 
 the horse was whinnying for his morning meal, the 
 chickens came peeping out, and chanticleer gave his 
 early call; but the tired outcast did not awaken. 
 
 The morning was cheerless and cold. A gray No- 
 vember mist overspread all things, and not one ray of 
 sunlight peeped through the crevices. It was quite 
 late, even past the breakfast-hour in farm-houses, 
 when Jotham first became conscious. There was a 
 pain in his limbs, an unwonted weariness, and yawn- 
 ing ; he turned as though wondering what could be the 
 cause of these unusual sensations. But as he moved,
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. .29 
 
 the sharp spears of hay touched his cheeks, and in a 
 moment he was aroused to his condition. He recalled 
 the events of the day previous, and- realized his present 
 situation. Slightly raising his head to ascertain 
 whether it was day, he hit the beam, which came close 
 down to his bed, so far back had he pushed himself in 
 his endeavors to be wholly secreted. 
 
 A slight sigh escaped him. He found that, though he 
 had slept, he was not much refreshed. His first 
 thought was the fear of being discovered. He had con- 
 cluded, before sleeping, that there probably were small 
 doors to the barn, which were fastened inside, and he had 
 resolved to rise early, before any one would be stirring, 
 and effect his escape. But now, as he strained his 
 eyes to ascertain the hour, he saw that it was fairly 
 daylight, and directly he heard voices bolow. He 
 could hear the hay rattle as it was pulled from the 
 scaffold to the floor, and, more than that, he could see 
 it move from the front edge of the very division where 
 he lay. Terrified, he shrank back. 
 
 " What if they should see me? " he mused. 
 
 But presently he heard loud voices. A boy had 
 come into the barn, and a man called to him in an 
 angry tone,
 
 30 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " Hallo, here, you young rascal ! I told you not to 
 touch one of those apples last night." 
 
 " I didn't touch one," answered the boy.' 
 
 "Didn't touch one! What does this mean, then? 
 Here's a core I found this morning over in the hay 
 there! You ate the apple and then threw the core 
 away." 
 
 " I didn't touch an apple, sir." 
 
 "Now you just look here, youngster. I don't care 
 half as much about the apple as you think, but if you 
 are going to lie in that way, you'd better look out ! 
 Come here." 
 
 Breathlessly Jotham listened, and he heard their 
 steps as they walked toward the door. Then they 
 stopped, and the man exclaimed, 
 
 "There, look in that barrel! Last night I placed 
 the apples in it as evenly as I could lay them. Now 
 you can see! Just in the middle of the barrel the 
 handsomest apple of the lot is gone, and here is the 
 core tossed off into the hay. You thought it wouldn't 
 be seen there." 
 
 " I don't know anything about it, sir," replied the 
 boy, firmly. 
 " Well, I declare ! " exclaimed the man, apparently
 
 THE STOLES APPLE. Page 31.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 31 
 
 too much surprised to utter more, and then he 
 paused. 
 
 "I didn't touch the apple, sir," repeated the boy, 
 this time more tremulously, and the man noticed the 
 tremor. 
 
 "You'd better tremble, I should think! Standing 
 there with a lie in your mouth ! I didn't want the 
 apple eaten, but that's nothing to having a liar on my 
 farm." 
 
 Just then another man came, and the case was 
 presented to him. 
 
 " You know, Wiley," said the first man, in conclusion, 
 "we fixed those apples just before dark, and they are 
 to go to Deacon Holman's this day. They are the 
 best I have, and I wanted them to look a little extra, 
 so I told Joseph not to touch them. If he wants 
 apples, there are plenty of others he can have. I don't 
 grudge him an apple, but I can't stand this lying, nor 
 I won't." 
 
 "Joseph," said the second man, mildly, "you'd 
 better acknowledge. I s'pose the apple looked so 
 good you couldn't resist. I wouldn't tell a falsehood." 
 
 "But I didn't touch it, sir," remonstrated the boy. 
 " I wasn't out here last night. You know I was saw- 
 ing wood in the shed."
 
 32 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 "Yes," said the first man, "you was sawing wood, 
 but you managed to get out here and eat that. Don't 
 
 deny it again. Own it, and perhaps I'll forgive you, 
 
 i 
 and keep you; but deny it, and you leave my service. 
 
 I'll not hire a liar." 
 
 " Joseph," said the second man, " confess it no\v, 
 and I'll plead with your master to forgive you. I'll be 
 your friend. As the Lord hath forgiven me my sins, 
 I'll plead with him to forgive you. You know, Joseph, 
 that I think you are a Christian." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wiley, I hope I am. You know I would 
 not touch an apple after Mr. Lothrop told me not to, 
 and you know I wouldn't tell a lie." 
 
 " I didn't think you would, Joseph ; but somebody 
 did eat the apple, that is certain. Here is the core, and 
 there is the place where the apple was taken out." 
 
 " And of course he ate it," responded Mr. Lothrop, 
 sternly. "There was not another living soul about 
 here. And I remember now,- he didn't come in to sup- 
 per so soon as we did." 
 
 " That was because I wanted to finish that big stick 
 of wood," answered the boy. 
 
 "Stuff and nonsense!" returned Mr. Lothrop. "I 
 don't believe a word you say. I never did have any 
 confidence in these pretended Christians. They are
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 33 
 
 hypocrites, every one of them. Begging your pardon, 
 friend Wiley, I don't mean you." 
 
 "I forgive you," replied Mr. Wiley, "but I do not 
 agree with you. I believe there are sincere Christians 
 who would sooner forfeit their lives than do a wrong 
 act, and I thought this boy was one of them. I have 
 known him from the cradle, and this is the first time 
 I ever saw anything that looked suspicious in his ac- 
 tions. Joseph, my boy, I wish you would confess it. 
 I'll get Mr. Lothrop to forgive you." 
 
 "Yes, boy," returned Mr. Lothrop; "just own it and 
 I'll say no more. It's only a little thing, and if you'll 
 tell the truth, I'll keep you, for I like you." 
 
 " I do tell the truth, sir," returned the boy, boldly. 
 " I did not touch the apple, and I do not know any- 
 thing about it." 
 
 " Well, well," returned Mr. Lothrop, " this beats me ! 
 Such audacity ! I believe I owe you six dollars, boy. 
 Here, take it ; I happen to have it in my pocket. Take 
 it, and go ! I want no liars on my premises." 
 
 The boy broke into sobs. 
 
 " Don't send me away, Mr. Lothrop. It is just 
 winter and I can't find another place. My poor mother 
 has no one to earn for her but me." 
 
 " Well, then, if you regard your mother, speak the 
 3
 
 Si THE CSOOK ^STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 troth, and you can still work for her. I promise you 
 HI keep you if youll ten the troth. 1 * 
 
 "I do tell the troth, sir. I should ten a lie if I 
 should say I ate the apple.* 
 
 "Bare-laced impudence!" retained Mr. Lothrop, 
 scornfully. " The facts are here before our eyes, and 
 yet you deny it. Go, as soon as possible." 
 
 Audible sobs stfll came from the boy. 
 
 * Xbbody wffl hire me, sir, if you caU me a liar and 
 send me away. People will believe you." 
 
 ''leant help it," returned Mr. Lothrop. "I hare 
 my own eyes against your word." 
 
 Mr. Wiley once more expostulated, but all in vain. 
 Mr. Lothrop declared he would not have a liar near 
 him, and presently poor Joseph went out. As Jotham, 
 up in his narrow bed, heard the boy go away, he was 
 in a tumult of excited feelings. His honest, open- 
 hearted impulses prompted him to rush down, confess 
 the truth, and bring Joseph back to the confidence of 
 his master; but a cowardly fear restrained him. He 
 knew by the sound of Mr. Lothrop's voice that he must 
 be a stern man, and he dreaded the consequences to 
 himself. 
 
 ' ' Oh, dear ! " he inwardly groaned. " Annette always 
 said crooked paths were hard, and I believe they are,
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 35 
 
 for every step I take in them leads into trouble. I 
 knew I had no right to touch that apple, but I thought 
 I could leave a cent in its place, so it wouldn't be steal- 
 ing. Oh, dear! What shall I do? I've a good mind 
 to jump right down there, and tell Mr. Lothrop all 
 about it ; but then, hell give me a thrashing, likely as 
 not, and tell me to go home. Oh, dear ! "What shall I 
 do ? I wish I had stayed at home. Father would have 
 got good-natured some time, and I don't wonder he was 
 cross. I didn't do right. Oh, dear ! I'm the meanest 
 boy that ever lived, and I used to think I was so smart ! 
 I wish I had never gone with George Thompson. If I 
 had only minded Annette, I would have been all right. 
 Dear Annette! I wonder where she is? I'm the 
 meanest fellow in the world ! " 
 
 Thus thinking, instead of acting. Jotham suffered the 
 moments to pass away. First thinking he would go to 
 Mr. Lothrop and confess, then, dreading the conse- 
 quences and shrinking back, he was equal to no con- 
 fession. The moments passed away, and soon the op- 
 portunity was gone, for Mr. Lothrop said, "Wiley, 
 you harness the horse, and I'll take this barrel of ap- 
 ples over to Deacon Holman, now. I'll just run into 
 the house and get another apple to replace this one.
 
 36 THE CKOOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 I've apples enough, and I didn't so much mind the 
 loss of one; but I do hate liars, and I won't keep one." 
 
 "I'm dreadful sorry this has happened," replied 
 Wiley. "I never knew -that boy do a mean thing. I 
 don't understand it, and there's his mother depending 
 on his work ; I don't know what she'll do." 
 
 " She'd better take some of his pretended religion 
 out of him," sneered Mr. Lothrop* as he went out of 
 the barn. " It's sheer hypocrisy." 
 
 In a moment Mr. Lothrop was gone, and Mr. Wiley 
 had led the horse into the open barn. 
 
 " Now's my time," thought Jotham. "Wiley is a 
 good man. I'll go right down and tell him, for I'm so 
 sorry for poor Joseph." 
 
 Drawing his wearied limbs from their cramped bed, 
 he began to rub them, for they felt numb, and as he 
 rubbed he summoned anew his resolution to face Mr. 
 Wiley and tell the whole truth. 
 
 "Dear me!" he murmured, inwardly, "how numb 
 my legs are ! " 
 
 Then he gave another pull, and the hay rustled about 
 him. 
 
 "What in creation's that?" asked Mr. Lothrop, 
 coming into the barn with the apple, and looking up as 
 the hay rustled.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 37 
 
 Mr. Wiley smiled. " It's the hens, probably. Per- 
 haps one is making a nest up there. You're excited, 
 Mr. Lothrop." 
 
 " It's enough to make one excited," he answered, 
 gruffly. " I wanted that boy more than a little. He's 
 the best boy I ever had, and to think he should lie so, 
 right in my face. But I must be off. You go up on 
 the scaffold by and by, Wiley, and see if there's a nest. 
 Wait till you think the hen is gone, because she won't 
 do so well if you disturb her." 
 
 Jotham shrank back at the sound of Mr. Lothrop's 
 voice. He could not acquire courage to meet him. 
 
 " He doesn't seem a bad man," he said to himself; 
 " but he's just like my father. He's good to those who 
 do right ; but if a fellow does wrong, he's no mercy. I 
 dare not go down. He'd kill me. But when he's gone, 
 I'll go down and tell Wiley." 
 
 But in this he was disappointed. He thought Mr. 
 Lothrop would drive away and leave Wiley at the 
 barn, but, after Mr. Lothrop was in the wagon, he 
 called, 
 
 " Wiley, the chores are all done here, aren't they? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, for the present." 
 
 " Well, you'd better go and finish sawing that wood, 
 now Joseph's gone."
 
 38 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " Very well, sir," and then Jotham heard the great 
 doors shut, heard the wagon go away, and Mr. Wiley 
 walking toward the house. A death-like silence came 
 into the barn. The cattle had been turned into the 
 yard, the horse no longer stamped, and a few heus 
 were the only sign of life. 
 
 Jotham reflected, "What shall I do? Wiley will 
 be back by and by, looking up here after a hen's nest. 
 I'd better be off." 
 
 Then his conscience whispered, " Don't go till you 
 have cleared Joseph. Find Wiley, and tell him. Do 
 one right thing." 
 
 Buoyed by this idea, he slid from the scaffold down 
 to the hay, then leaped the low railing and stood upon 
 the barn-floor. A thought of the savage dog crossed 
 his mind, and he resolved to reconnoitre. Perhaps the 
 mastiff might be watching outside. Softly stepping he 
 looked through the small windows of the barn, passing 
 from side to side till he had taken the full bearings 
 of the situation. No dog was in sight. The large 
 doors of the barn opened directly upon the road, the 
 house was at a little distance on one side, and, as no 
 person appeared in view, the boy hastily dropped a 
 cent on a stool near, opened the door, and, sliding 
 through, leaped into the street. He was trembling
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 39 
 
 with affright, like a prisoner escaped from his dun- 
 geon. 
 
 In his first impulse, he ran, as though longing to 
 leave a place of so much danger ; but then he thought 
 of Joseph, and turned to go toward the house. He 
 stepped quickly though timidly, but just as he came to 
 the gate, two men came driving down the road, and 
 turned into the yard. "Wiley heard them and came to 
 meet them. Jotham paused, and, as he looked about 
 him, he saw through the window a little girl looking 
 earnestly at him. Her face was pleasant, and the 
 guilty boy might not have turned from her, but beside 
 her he saw the huge mastiff also looking at him, and 
 he turned quickly away. 
 
 " I can't tell Wiley," he murmured, by way of excuse 
 for his cowardice. " Those men are talking with him. 
 Ill be off somewhere, no matter where." 
 
 The little girl watched him, wondering who he could 
 be, but he was soon out of sight and she thought of 
 him no more. He went away with his guilt and his 
 wretchedness hanging about him. He tried to appease 
 his conscience for eating the apple by thinking how 
 hungry he was, and that he had left a cent in its place ; 
 but, iu spite of his reasonings, straightforward con- 
 scientiousness told him he had done another very mean
 
 40 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 thing. He felt meanly enough before. He was 
 ashamed that he had run away from home just because 
 his father was cross to him when he knew he deserved 
 censure ; but now this new guilt seemed to be greater 
 than the others. He was haunted by the voice of 
 Joseph, pleading, " I do tell the truth, sir ; " and he said 
 to himself, " That was a noble fellow, and I have 
 driven him from his good place to work ; I have cast a 
 stain upon his character. I've a mind to find him, and 
 tell him all about it ; but no, he's so good, he would 
 look at me with scorn. I couldn't face him. What 
 will become of me ? I'm sure I cannot tell." 
 
 When one has been guilty of a crime, it is surprising 
 how the mind will vacillate under reflection. As 
 Jotham slowly walked over the frozen road that 
 dreary autumnal day, a thousana varying emotions 
 filled his mind. He was weary, hungry, unrefreshed 
 by his night's rest, and he knew not where to go; 
 too proud to beg, and too poor to buy. In his own 
 orderly home, he had every morning bathed his face, 
 combed his hair, put on a clean collar, and made his 
 appearance neat and becoming. This morning he 
 went just as he pulled himself from the hay, except 
 that once he took off his cap in the street and 
 smoothed his hair a little with his pocket-comb. His
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 41 
 
 clothes were full of hay-dust, and his eyes seemed 
 weary and dull. 
 
 Thoughts of home came to him, but they were soon 
 discarded. He believed his father's house could be a 
 home to him no longer. 
 
 "No," he said to himself, emphatically, "I cannot 
 go there now. If I should tell my father the truth, 
 he would shut the door in my face, and I cannot tell a 
 lie. No, Joseph would not tell a lie, even to save his 
 place, and I won't tell a lie. No, I cannot go home 
 now. I have no home. My father said he would 
 discard me, forever, if I committed another misde- 
 meanor. He said I must work, and I will. I've a 
 mind to go back and try another captain. I could 
 go to sea. Maybe some other captain would take me. 
 I don't believe I'm so very bad, after all. Father 
 never had patience with me. I didn't mean any 
 harm." 
 
 On he wandered, burdened under every variety of 
 imagination, growing more tired and more hungry. 
 Once he came to a village, and, going into a grocery 
 store, purchased a few crackers with his few remain- 
 ing pennies; but these were soon gone, and then he 
 drifted hopelessly on. 
 
 Hunger is a hard master. It will bring down the
 
 42 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 most obstinate. When once it has set up its claim, 
 it demands with an imperious audacity. Jotham tried 
 by every means to forget that faint gnawing which 
 sickened him; but it would not be forgotten. Back 
 again the terrible feeling would come, each time with 
 renewed strength. It was nearly thirty-six hours 
 since he had eaten a full meal. Two apples and a few 
 diy crackers were all that had sustained him during 
 a continuous walk of nearly two days, for it was now 
 almost dark of the second day since he left his home. 
 Many miles lay between him and the barn where he 
 had slept. He wanted it so, for though no person 
 had seen him there, he felt like a criminal on the point 
 of detection. Now he was so far away that he 
 seemed more secure, and as another night was draw- 
 ing on, he began to wonder where he should sleep 
 again. 
 
 At length he came to the foot of a hill, which he 
 began to ascend. The place was exceedingly lonely, 
 and the road rough. Not a house was visible. Half- 
 way up the hill he paused, and a few tears dropped 
 upon his cheeks. He was so exhausted that he could 
 scarcely walk, and he sat down upon a stone beside 
 the road, thinking he would crawl into the woods 
 near by, and there sleep till he should sleep the last
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 43 
 
 repose of death. He saw that he must die or beg 
 some food, and he thought it would be better to die. 
 
 But the invisible, loving God, who has made immor- 
 tal souls upon this earth, does not leave them to perish. 
 Their transgressions may bring sorrow upon them- 
 selves, but he who watches does not leave them. 
 He loves the erring as well as the good, and seeks the 
 wandering, that they may be brought back to the light 
 of life. Jotham needed chastisements that he might 
 learn to walk in a straight path; but God would not 
 leave him to die there alone. 
 
 Just as he was thinking these despairing thoughts, 
 seeing nothing but darkness before him, he heard a 
 sound at the foot of the hill, 
 
 " Whoa ! Whoa ! " 
 
 The voice betokened distress, and, involuntarily, he 
 glanced in that direction. There were two horses 
 there, and an old man was trying to hold them. He 
 had a large farm-wagon, on which were several bags 
 of grain, some boxes, and a pile of dried cod-fish. 
 By some accident, some of these bags and boxes had 
 slipped off, and the old man was trying to hold the 
 horses while he could replace them. At any former 
 period in his life Jotham would have rushed to help 
 in such an emergency ; but now he sat stupidly look-
 
 44 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 ing. He felt too thoroughly debased to be of assist- 
 ance to any one. Such is the power of wrong-doing 
 over the human mind. 
 
 The old man tugged and worked till he grew exas- 
 perated. Every time he left the horses to pick up a 
 bag, they would start. The hill was not very steep 
 at the foot, the load was light, and the horses were 
 going toward home. They had no idea of waiting, 
 for they, too, had empty stomachs, and were in haste 
 for their hay and oats. 
 
 "Confound you!" screamed the old man, as they 
 started the fourth time before he had picked up a 
 single bag. "I'll give it to you! I'll break your 
 necks for you ! " 
 
 In the fury of his passion, he ran in front of the 
 horses and begun to back them, for they had drawn 
 the wagon quite a distance from the spot where the 
 bags lay. 
 
 " Back there, I tell ye ! Back ! " he shouted, strik- 
 ing them across their noses, and "back" they went, 
 faster than he could hold them. They came to the 
 bags, and then he screamed, again, "Whoa!" but not 
 they. They had begun to back, and they were deter- 
 mined to do it. The old man clutched at their bridles 
 and pulled with all his force, but they thought of their
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 45 
 
 smarting noses, and still receded. Presently the 
 wagon behind them veered, and they turned also. 
 Around went the wheels, after them backed the 
 horses, tossing their heads in the air and jerking the 
 old man from his feet. A few more turns, and the 
 wheels ran off at the side of a deep ditch, the wagon 
 capsized, the horses stopped by the entanglement of 
 the harnesses, and the old man stood helplessly be- 
 fore them. 
 
 Jotham had watched these proceedings with in- 
 creasing interest. His benumbed faculties seemed to 
 rouse, and he forgot himself, as his eyes were riveted 
 on the scene of excitement. But he did not stir until 
 he saw the lumbering wagon in the ditch. Then his 
 hunger and his misery were forgotten and his natural 
 impulses returned. Springing from his seat, he ran 
 down the hill as though wings helped him, and, in a 
 moment, stood by the old man's side. 
 
 " Where d'ye come from ? " asked the old man. 
 
 " Come down the hill, sir." 
 
 ' Was that you settin' on the stone there?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Wall, why on airth didn't you come sooner? 
 What d'ye sit there for, when a feller was in dis- 
 tress ? "
 
 46 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 Jotham did not reply. The old man's manner 
 seemed unkind, and the boy hardly knew what to say. 
 However, they soon went to work, and the old man 
 found the new-comer an excellent assistant. His 
 ready invention soon extricated the horses, and, as he 
 worked with a " right good-will," his good sense soon 
 brought order out of confusion.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 47 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FINDING A HOME. 
 
 IT was not an easy task to pick up that over- 
 turned wagon, and rearrange the scattered 
 load. Darkness was coming on apace, and 
 Jotham entirely forgot his own situation while his 
 hands wrought busily. He had a strong natural love 
 for horses, and the admirable manner iu which these 
 had foiled their master, quite won his admiration for 
 them, although he had sympathized with their owner 
 in his distress. As the two spirited animals were cut 
 loose from their fastenings, and, bounding forward, 
 shook themselves as though rejoicing in the disaster 
 they had caused, Jotham looked at them with admira- 
 tion. He saw that they were high-mettled, fat, and 
 glossy, and even now little disposed to wait patient- 
 ly till the boxes and bags were restored to their 
 places. 
 
 "Let me hold them," said Jotham, seeing they were
 
 48 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED 
 
 determined not to stand, and their owner readily as- 
 sented. 
 
 Jotham grasped the bridle with one hand, and with 
 the other stroked their manes and faces, looking in 
 their spirited eyes, and they seemed to yield to him 
 a passive obedience. He tamed them, very much as 
 he had once captivated his grandfather's colts in the 
 pasture; and while he was doing this the old man 
 righted his team. 
 
 "It's lucky I have some strings," he remarked, as he 
 examined the harnesses. " I always carry strings for 
 fear of accidents. But, I do declare, this ere's a 
 pretty job. These ere harnesses will have to be sent 
 off to be fixed. I'll tie 'em up now, but they'll have 
 to be fixed. That'll be a pretty job of cost. 'Twill 
 take some dollars, I dunno how many, to fix 'em. I'd 
 like to give them horses an almighty walloping. 
 
 A fierce, disagreeable expression crossed the man's 
 face, and Jotham half shrank away, but the expression 
 passed away directly, and soon the team was ready to 
 recommence the ascent of the hill. Then the old man 
 looked at his new assistant, and for the first time 
 seemed to wonder who he might be. 
 
 "What's your name, youngster?" he asked, as he 
 was about to start the horses
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 49 
 
 I 
 
 " Jotham Wilson, sir." 
 
 " Aha ! I don't know that name. You don't belong 
 in this town, I take it ? " 
 
 " No, sir," answered Jotham, a thought of his situa- 
 tion flashing into his mind. 
 
 "Where d'ye come from?" 
 
 " From the city," replied the boy, hesitatingly, not 
 quite likiug to reveal the home which he had so igno- 
 miniously loft. 
 
 " From the city ! " replied the man, scanning him 
 closely in the deepening twilight. " What kind of a 
 boy are you? What are you off out here for? " 
 
 These were questions not very agreeable to Jotham. 
 As to the first, he hardly knew Avhat to say, for he was 
 not quite certain what kind of a boy he was. Once he 
 thought himself " a splendid fellow; " but now he felt 
 like a guilty culprit. His own conduct seemed to him- 
 self very mean, and besides hunger was beginning to 
 speak again now that the excitement was passing 
 away. 
 
 The second question was equally difficult, fur he was 
 not willing to tell that he stole apples from an old lady, 
 was thrust into the lock-up, and had run away because 
 his father censured him for such misconduct. But 
 
 4
 
 50 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 while he hesitated, he felt those cold gray eyes resting 
 upon him, and presently the old man spoke again. 
 
 " I say, boy, what are you here for ? " 
 
 " Because I don't know where to be." 
 
 " Why, haven't you any home? " 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 Now, Jotham feared a lie, and he excused himself 
 for this prevarication by thinking that truly he had 
 no home, for his father had threatened to discard him 
 forever, and that had made him a wanderer. But the 
 old man had more questions yet. Jotharn's prompt 
 assistance and ready intelligence had pleased him, 
 and now his curiosity was aroused. 
 
 " Come," he said, "let's jump into the wagon. The 
 horses may as well draw us, they feel so nicely." 
 
 "Now," said the man, as they started up the hill, 
 " tell me all about yourself. Haven't you got uny 
 father and mother ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered the boy, with some hesitation. 
 
 " Well, why don't you stay at home ? " 
 
 A sudden idea flashed into Jothain's mind by which 
 he thought he might screen himself, throw the blame 
 upon his father, and prevent further questions, and yet 
 not tell a falsehood. Accordingly, he answered, 
 
 " ily father says I uiusL work."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 51 
 
 "Aha! That's it, is it? Can't afford to keep you 
 any longer? Well, you do look big enough to work, 
 and 'twoii't hurt you to earn your own living. But 
 why don't he put you into a store? That's the way 
 city boys generally do." 
 
 "I don't want to go," answered the boy, still trying 
 to keep within the bounds of truth. 
 
 "Don't you? "Wall, that's strange I What do you 
 want to do ? Work on a farm ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I would do that." 
 
 "Do you know anything about it?" 
 
 " I never worked much on one, but I've been to my 
 grandfather's and seen them work there." 
 
 " Where does your grandfather live?" 
 
 " At Cherryfleld." 
 
 " Cherry field Cherryfleld I don't rightly know 
 where that is. In this State ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir; way up north of Boston." 
 
 " Ay, ay, yes. Wall, I don't know much about the 
 towns there. Whore are you going to-night? " 
 
 " I don't know, sir." 
 
 "Don't you? Wall, that's a pretty hard case. 
 'Twan't right for your father to send you out so to 
 find a place, lie ought to have found one for you. 
 (Jot auv uioacy '("
 
 52 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Wall, wall, you must have a queer kind of a father. 
 Guess I must take you in to-night. You've done me a 
 good service, and it's no more'n fair I should keep you." 
 
 Jotham's heart leaped with joy. He thought not 
 nor cared what kind of a man this new acquaintance 
 might be. It was sufficient for him to know that he 
 was to be taken to some kind of a home where he 
 would be likely to have something to eat. He turned 
 toward the old man and thanked him. 
 
 "Aha! So you're glad to go with me? Wall, I 
 don't wonder. I should think you'd want a place to 
 sleep. "T\vas a risky way you took to find work, for 
 'tisn't every one wants to take in a boy that pomes 
 round so. There might be something wrong, you 
 know." 
 
 By this time they had reached the top of the hill, and 
 the impatient horses were allowed to go at the height 
 of their speed. One or two small farm-houses were 
 passed, and then they turned into a broad, uufenced 
 yard. Jotham could see very little, for it was now 
 quite dark, but he observed that the windows were 
 without blinds, and that the only light visible was at 
 the extreme rear of the house, which seemed to be 
 large, but ill no way ch'gant.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 53 
 
 As they drove opposite the kitchen windows, a 
 brown dog leaped into the wagon, giving the master a 
 cordial welcome, then turning to inspect the new 
 visitor. 
 
 "Get down! get down!" said the master, and at 
 that moment the outer kitchen door opened, and a 
 large woman came in sight. 
 
 " "Why didn't you come sooner? " she demanded, in a 
 heavy, masculine voice. 
 
 Jotham looked to see if there was a man behind her, 
 for he could hardly believe such a voice could be the 
 utterance of a woman. He saw no one, however, and 
 was compelled to believe it was she who spoke. The 
 man answered drily, 
 
 "Got tipped over." 
 
 " Got tipped over!" repeated the woman, in a tone 
 of horror. " And did you come out all safe? " 
 
 " Yes, pretty safe. It'll cost me something to get 
 the harnesses mended, though." 
 
 "Cost! will it?" sneered the woman, finding that 
 was all the damage. " Why didn't you keep right side 
 up ? You're always doing something to take money." 
 
 The man made no reply, and the woman re- 
 turned to the kitchen, soon appearing again with a 
 lighted lantern, which she placed upon the broad stone
 
 54 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 step of the door. She gave a searching glance at 
 Jotham, as the rays from the lantern revealed him, but, 
 without speaking, re-entered the house, and the rattle 
 of dishes soon told that she was preparing supper. 
 Never was there a more welcome sound to Jotham. 
 His fainting system revived at the cheering ring of the 
 cups and plates, and, seizing the lantern, he followed 
 the man and horses to the barn. 
 
 "Fly round," said the man, as they drew off the 
 harnesses. "You lead one horse, and I will lead the 
 other." 
 
 Jotham hastened, for the ring of the dishes was still 
 in his ears, and the gnawing within him was almost 
 insupportable. He unbuckled the straps, threw the 
 blanket over the horse, and led him to the stall with 
 the utmost celerity. 
 
 "Smart boy!" muttered the man. "Knows what 
 he's about, I reckon. I wonder now if 'twouldn't be a 
 good idee ! It's mighty unhandy to do all the work 
 alone. I've tried it many a winter, and I've got about 
 tired on't. 'Twould be a good idee to hire him." 
 
 Then turning to Jotham, he added, " Toss up a little 
 of this hay to the horses, and I'll give the cattle a little 
 of this ere fodderin*. The old woman fed 'em some, I 
 reckon, when she tied 'em up." ,
 
 THE CEOOK STRAIGHTENED. 55 
 
 " The old woman ! " thought Jotham. " What does 
 lie mean ? Does that woman come out and tie up the 
 cattle ? I wonder whether she's his wife." 
 
 But he had not long to wonder, for in a moment 
 the man called, " Come, let's go in and have some 
 grub." 
 
 At any other time Jotham would have smiled, but 
 now he was so hungry that language mattered little to 
 him. Two days of almost entire fasting had nearly 
 subdued him. He followed the man into the broad 
 kitchen, where the table was spread for the supper, 
 but not, as he was anticipating, in the middle of the 
 room. It was not a nice oval table covered with a 
 white cloth, such as he had always sat by in his 
 mother's home, but it stood by the side of the room, 
 as though the mistress thought it too much trouble to 
 take it to the centre of the floor, and its covering was 
 a painted oil-cloth. 
 
 One little flush of disappointment crossed the mind 
 of the hungry boy, but he quickly recovered, for he 
 saw a plate of bread on this little side-table, and the 
 flavor of tea was in the room. There was a large 
 kitchen stove, in which the wood was brightly burning, 
 and by this stove stood a woman busily stirring some 
 mixture. She turned as they came in, and cast an in-
 
 56 TJIE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 quiring glance upon Jotham. The man came for- 
 ward. 
 
 " I've picked up this chap," he said, " and I want 
 you to give him some supper." 
 
 " Who is he? " asked the woman, bending her eyes 
 full upon him. Cold gray eyes they were, and Jotham 
 did not like them; but what could he do? He could 
 not escape their scrutiny. Turning to the man, who 
 had now taken off his hat, he saw by the light of the 
 kitchen candle that he was quite bald, with a receding 
 forehead, a long, pointed nose, thin, gray beard, and a 
 sallow complexion. His eyes, too, were gray, cold, and 
 hard, though a little less resolute in their expression 
 thau were the eyes of the woman, whose broad face, 
 and large, solid body spoke of indomitable will and 
 persevering industry. The boy glanced furtively from 
 one to the other, while they, in their turn, scanned him. 
 Not at all like them was he. His full, beaming eye, 
 his bright chestnut locks, his broad white forehead, 
 and his intelligent expression marked him as no 
 ordinary boy, and both the farmer and his wife mar- 
 velled that such a boy should be there, penniless and 
 homeless. Little did they think that beneath that 
 handsome face there was a marred manhood. Little 
 did they think that bad companions had seduced that
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 57 
 
 noble-looking youth, till he felt meaner than the dog 
 walking wistfully beside the table. 
 
 Jotham did not speak when the woman asked, " Who 
 is he ? " nor did the man reply immediately. Drawing 
 off his striped mittens and putting them on a little 
 stand in one corner of the room, he placed his over- 
 coat upon them, then laid his hat on the top of that. 
 Then he turned to Jotham. 
 
 " What did you say your name was? " 
 
 "Jotham Wilson, sir." 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes, I remember. You see, Betsey," he 
 continued, turning to his wife, " I found the fellow at 
 the foot of the hill. He haint had any supper, and he's 
 nowhere to go, and, as he helped me out of that con- 
 founded scrape, I thought I'd oughter bring him 
 home." 
 
 " It's just like you, Enoch Higglesey," returned the 
 woman. " Just as though I hadn't enough to do with- 
 out waiting upon other people." 
 
 " Oh, you needn't wait upon him, Betsey. Just git a 
 plate and let him sit right down here and share our 
 grub. If it's good enough for us, it's good enough for 
 him." 
 
 " Git a plate yourself," returned the woman, as she
 
 58 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 went for a dish, into which she poured the mixture she 
 had been stirring. 
 
 Quietly the man went to the cup-board, from which 
 he soon brought a plate, a knife and fork, and a cup 
 and saucer. 
 
 " There, Betsey," he said ; " make a place here." 
 
 The woman obeyed, and then went herself for a 
 chair. Her first irritation seemed to have subsided, 
 and she poured a cup of tea for the young guest quite 
 graciously, then turned to her husband. 
 
 " Didn't you know any better than to tip over, Enoch 
 Iligglesey ? " 
 
 "No, Betsey, it's a fact, I didn't. The horses just 
 got the upper hand of me, and the whole thing went 
 over smash. If t hadn't been for this boy I wouldn't 
 got out till this time." 
 
 "And so you've got to pay for mendin' the har- 
 nesses ? " she queried. 
 
 " Yes, that's just the worst on't." 
 
 " I should think so, Enoch Higglesey. It's just pay 
 out, pay out, all the time, this fall." 
 
 " Wall, I know it, Betsey, but I can't help it. Here, 
 give the boy some of this puddin'." 
 
 The woman dipped out some of the mixture, and 
 handed it to Joth^m. It was a " hasty -pudding," made
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 59 
 
 of corn-meal and water. It was hot, and as she poured 
 molasses over it, Jotham took it. At home, he would 
 have disdained such a supper; but now he was so hun- 
 gry that anything seemed good. The hot tea was 
 delicious, although it was not strong and was sweet- 
 ened with coarse brown sugar. Not the lemonade or 
 beer with which George Thompson used to regale him 
 in their palmy days was ever sweeter to his taste. 
 
 "When the supper was finished, Mr. Higglesey arose 
 and relighted the lantern, saying, " Come, boy." 
 
 Jotham would fain have lingered longer at the table, 
 for it seemed that he was but half satisfied ; but his 
 judgment told him that he had eaten as much as pro- 
 priety would allow, and, rising, he followed Mr. Hig- 
 glesey to the barn. If he had already earned his supper 
 by his labors at the foot of the hill, he bade fair to pay 
 for it a second time at the barn. For half an hour he 
 worked incessantly, running hither and thither, mixing 
 meal with water for the fatting oxen, feeding the cosset 
 sheep, combing and brushing the horses, carrying and 
 emptying the meal which had just been brought home, 
 and putting everything in order for the night. 
 
 Mr. Higglesey inwardly congratulated himself that 
 he had been so fortunate as to bring home the boy. 
 
 " I'll git done twice as soon as common," he mused.
 
 60 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " I declare, it's better that his young legs should run 
 than my old ones, that have been going nigh on to sixty 
 years. I'll jest tell Betsey so." 
 
 When all was done, they locked the barn and went 
 into the house. Jotham thought of the night previous 
 when he was locked inside with no bed but the hay. 
 Surely this night was better, for, though the people 
 were gruff and uncongenial, their house afforded him 
 shelter, their large fire warmed his chilled limbs, their 
 supper nourished him, and their bed would refresh 
 him. Therefore he was grateful, and went back into 
 the kitchen with a contented heart. 
 
 The table was clear of dishes now, and the large 
 woman sat by the stove knitting. A tallow candle 
 stood on a small stand near, and a weekly newspaper 
 lay by it. Mr. Higglesey hung his hat upon a peg in 
 the back part of the room, and bade Jotham do the 
 same. 
 
 " Now, boy," said he, "sit down by fhe stove there 
 and git warm. I'm going to take a smoke." 
 
 Back of the stove there was a door opening into a 
 brick oven formerly used for family baking, but now 
 supplanted by the more convenient stove. Mr. Hig- 
 glesey opened this door, and, drawing his chair near to 
 it, sat down. Two or three clay pipes lay in the oven's
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 61 
 
 mouth, and a small box of tobacco. Jotham watched 
 as Mr. Higglesey cut the tobacco into bits, with which 
 he filled the pipe. 
 
 " Jest bring me a coal," said the smoker to Jotham. 
 " There's the tongs in that box." 
 
 Jotham stared a little at this strange request, but 
 immediately obeyed, and the old man, taking the tongs 
 in his right hand and the pipe in his left, placed the 
 stem of the pipe in his mouth and rested the red coal on 
 the top of the tobacco in the bowl. When the tobacco 
 was fairly lighted, he called Jotham to take away the 
 tongs, turned his face toward the oven that the smoke 
 might escape up the flue, and then puffed as though in 
 the midst of the most serene enjoyments. Jotham sat 
 thinking. The warmth of the fire made him sleepy, and 
 a sense of his actual weariness oppressed him. He 
 had passed through so many changes during the lust 
 two days that he could scarcely realize his own feel- 
 ings. 
 
 " You see," said Mr. Higglesey, taking the pipe from 
 his mouth and chucking down the half-smoked tobacco 
 with the end of his forefinger, " I have to sit here so 
 the smoke may go up the chimney, for my wile's so 
 delicate she can't bear the smell of tobacco." 
 
 Juthuin felt a smile rising at the idea of the delicacy
 
 62 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 of that robust woman; but he quickly suppressed it 
 and she immediately replied, 
 
 " Well, there's no use in mincing the matter. I do 
 hate tobacco-smoke, and that's the long and the short 
 of it. If I had my way there'd never be a leaf of the 
 tobacco raised." 
 
 " It's a good thing," replied the man, " that you can't 
 always have your way. 'Twould be a queer world if 
 you could." 
 
 " I'd straighten some things, I know," she replied, 
 with an energetic snap of her needles. 
 
 " I reckon you would," replied the husband. " You'd 
 be bigger than the Lord himself. I should hate to be 
 under you. But come, this boy's tired ; show him his 
 bed." 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey laid down her knitting, apparently 
 acquiescing in the reasonableness of this command. 
 Since her first rude reception of Jotham she had been 
 quite civil to him. Perhaps his handsome face had won 
 her, or perhaps she really had no special objection to 
 keeping him, only that her rough nature must manifest 
 itself. Taking the candle in her hand, she bade the 
 boy follow her, leaving Mr. Higglesey and his pipe in 
 the dark. Up a night of narrow buck stairs she went, 
 turning at the top to caution Julhain not to hit his head
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 63 
 
 against a beam which jutted down so low that every 
 grown person must stoop in passing under it. 
 
 At the top of these stairs there was a small chamber, 
 in which were a bed, a chair, and a pine table. The 
 place was not very inviting. It was not like the boy's 
 neat chamber at home, to which he ascended over his 
 mother's nicely carpeted stairs. In that chamber there 
 were pictures hanging on the walls, a pretty chamber- 
 set, a carpet, a stove, and books. Here there was 
 nothing ; and, as the woman was fearful he might set 
 the house on fire, she told him she would wait outside 
 until he could spare the caudle. Such as the chamber 
 was, however, satisfied our poor self-outcast, who, 
 three hours before, was contemplating plunging into 
 the woods to lie down and die. Any bed was accept- 
 able to him, and he thanked the woman with a smile 
 that won her heart. When she returned to the kitchen 
 with her light and had resumed her knitting, her hus- 
 band turned to her, and suddenly remarked, 
 
 "Betsey, I've got an idee! " 
 
 " Well, what is it, Enoch?" 
 
 "Why, I think I'd better keep this boy. He's a 
 right handy fellow." 
 
 " Well, what of that? He'll have to eat, and you'll 
 have to pay him. 'Twill only make cost."
 
 64 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " Aud what if it does? The fact is, Betsey, you aud 
 I are getting old, though you don't seem to know it. ] 
 can't do so much as formerly. I used to Send off my 
 men in the fall, and then I'd go through the wiutei 
 alone ; but I can't do it now. I git tired." 
 
 " Well, what of it? You can't afford to hire." 
 
 " I know I can't afford to pay much. By the way, I 
 left five hundred dollars to-day at the bank. Old 
 Eyder paid me at last, and I thought 'twas best to 
 chuck it into the bank as quick as possible, so it might 
 be on interest, you know. But about this boy ; 
 I might pay him a little, you see, just enough to pacify 
 him, and keep him this winter to do my chores. I 
 reckon he'd work cheap, for his father has sent him 
 out huntin' after a place, and I reckon he'd be glad of 
 a place most anywhere." 
 
 " But we'd have to board him," expostulated Mrs. 
 Higglesey. 
 
 "I know it; but we live kind o' cheap in the winter, 
 you know, and besides there's always remnants good 
 enough for a boy. Of course, boys can't expect every- 
 thing. Aud don't you see, Betsey, besides helping me, 
 he could help you. He could bring in your wood and 
 water, and he'd be here when I'm gone, so he could tie 
 up the cows and feed the pigs. Then you coukl find
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. G5 
 
 time to knit and sew. You are always complainin' for 
 want of time." 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey looked straight in her husband's 
 eyes, and considered. She revolved the subject in all 
 its bearings, and having finally satisfied herself that 
 the board could be so managed as to cost very little, 
 and that really she would be a gainer in time, she con- 
 sented to the proposal. " Provided," she added, "you 
 don't have to pay him too much." 
 
 With this conclusion, the couple fastened their doors, 
 shut the stove to make the fire secure, and retired. 
 5
 
 66 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THANKSGIVING. 
 
 I^BADIAH ! " said Grandma Wilson, in an ex- 
 cited manner, not many days after the decis- 
 ion to spend Thanksgiving with the family 
 of their only son. 
 
 Mr. Wilson looked up as the old lady spoke. She 
 was reading a letter which a neighbor had kindly 
 brought from the village post-office, and her face had 
 grown suddenly pale. 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Mr. Wilson, laying 
 down his newspaper. 
 
 "Such trouble!" she replied. "I declare I don't 
 know what to do. This letter is from Josiah's wife, 
 and the poor woman is in a hard situation. I won't 
 wait for Thanksgiving, I'll go right down now. I'm 
 sure I can do them good." 
 
 "But what is the matter?" asked grandfather, 
 again. " You haven't told me yet."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 67 
 
 " No, I haven't. Well, listen, and I'll read. Mary 
 
 says, 
 
 " 'DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, "We received your 
 very welcome letter, saying that you would spend 
 Thanksgiving with us. Nothing could give us greater 
 pleasure were we as we have been. As it is, we are 
 truly walking in the midst of troubles. Annette is 
 very ill; the doctor calls it brain fever. She has quite 
 lost her reason, talks incoherently sometimes ; at 
 others, of Jotham, begging him to be a good boy, and 
 imploring him not to go to sea. But this is not our 
 greatest trouble. We could view this as a dispensa- 
 tion of Providence to which we could submit ; but we 
 have a greater sorrow, Jotham is gone, we know not 
 where. We can find no trace of him. On the very 
 day that Annette was taken ill he disappeared. His 
 father directed him to- go to school; and I went up- 
 stairs to Annette, who was taken w r ith a headache and 
 chills. When I came down again Jotham was gone to 
 school, as I supposed. But at noon he did not come 
 home, and Harry said he had not been at school. 
 Then we grew anxious. Night came, and he did not 
 come. Annette's illness increased and we sent for a 
 physician. By the next day she was dc-Frious. .inrl in
 
 68 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 her wildness she began to plead with Jotham not to go 
 to sea. We have not yet told her that he is away, but 
 we have searched the city for him. We have been to 
 the wharves and the vessels. No one has seen or 
 heard from him.'" 
 
 " Strange ! " interposed the old gentleman, as the 
 reader paused a moment. " Strange what ails that 
 boy! A brighter, smarter boy is seldom found. A 
 good boy, too, when under good influences ; and that's 
 just the trouble, I do believe. It is just because he 
 must be under good influences in order to be good; 
 for, the moment the influence is changed, he changes. 
 He seems to lack a balancing power within himself. 
 He yields to others too easily. He ought to have his 
 own thoughts of right and wrong, and within himself 
 to have an independence of his own." 
 
 "I am sure," returned grandmother, "he alwajs 
 was independent. You could see that in the very 
 manner of his speaking. He always had a lofty bear- 
 ing." 
 
 " He had a swagger," returned grandfather; " a sort 
 of pompous way of showing off. I don't call it inde- 
 pendence, exactly. It was rather the reverse of inde- 
 pendence, for it showed a dependence upon the good
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 69 
 
 opinions of others. He wanted to be thought grand, 
 therefore he tried to appear so. That has helped to 
 spoil him, because when bad boys came around him 
 with high-sounding words, he wanted to be just as 
 smart as they, or a little smarter. Ah, it is yielding to 
 bad boys that has ruined him! He hadn't moral firm- 
 ness enough to resist them. I am sure he does not 
 want to be ugly. It is not his nature." 
 
 "But what shall we do?" asked grandmother. 
 " The letter goes on to say that they would be glad to 
 see us at Thanksgiving, but fear we would not enjoy 
 the visit. As though we would not be happy in trying 
 to sympathize with them ! I tell you, father, just what 
 I think." 
 
 ".Well, what is it?" 
 
 " Why, I ought to go right down there now, and 
 stay till Thanksgiving. Then you could come after 
 me." 
 
 " But you cannot go alone in the cars at your time 
 of life, and with your feeble health." 
 
 " Yes, I can. I can manage just as well as you ; and 
 I am sure I can do good there. Only think how I 
 could stay by Annette. Dear child! I long to be 
 beside her now. How I could soothe her, and bathe 
 her fevered head ! And then what a comfort I'd be to
 
 70 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 Josiah and Mary! You could stay here alone with 
 Sally Ann, couldn't you?" 
 
 " La, yes ! I could stay alone well enough ; but I'm 
 afraid you can't go alone so well as you think." 
 
 " Why, yes I can. Haven't I been there many times 
 with you ? I know every crook and turn of the way. 
 I can go alone as well as not." 
 
 " Well, perhaps you can. At any rate you can try. 
 They need somebody to comfort them, that's cer- 
 tain." 
 
 " And I'm just the one to do it. Sally Ann ! 
 
 The girl heard the loud call and came in from the 
 kitchen. 
 
 " Sally Ann, you go right up to the attic, and bring 
 me down that empty trunk. I'm going to Josiah's by 
 the first train to-morrow morning." 
 
 "Going to Josiah's, Miss Wilson? What do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 " I mean just what I say. Annette is dreadful sick, 
 and I'm going to see her." 
 
 "Annette sick, Miss Wilson? Well, well! She's a 
 good child, too good for this earth ! I found that out 
 last summer. How she bore with Jotham! though 
 sometimes she'd get kind of out of patience with him, 
 but who wouldn't? Oh, she used to talk so pretty to
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 71 
 
 him ! Well, I'm afraid shell die. Good folks always 
 do die." 
 
 "Not always," replied Mrs. Wilson. "We'll hope 
 for the best. Go get the trunk." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," replied the girl, hastening up to the 
 attic. 
 
 As soon as she was gone, grandmother said, " You 
 see I didn't mention Jotham. There's no use in telling 
 of him. 'Twould only disgrace him in the minds of 
 people." 
 
 "Just so," responded grandfather. "We'll keep 
 quite still, and may be the boy'll come back. I can't 
 believe he's gone for good. He'll find he's got a hard 
 row to hoe out in the world, taking care of himself. 
 He doesn't know anything about work, but he'll have 
 to work somewhere. If he's gone to sea, he'll have 
 a tough time." 
 
 "Oh, dear!" sighed grandmother. "I do hope he 
 hasn't gone to sea. It's dreadful to think of." 
 
 At that moment Sally Ann returned with the trunk, 
 and Mrs. Wilson arose from her chair. 
 
 "I'll have to be busy to-day, Sally Ann. I've got to 
 leave everything in your care while I'm gone ; but I'm 
 sure you'll do the best you can." 
 
 "That I will,.jMiss Wilson, you may depend; and I
 
 72 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 reckon I know how pretty well ; I've been here long 
 enough." 
 
 " Yes, you've been a good girl here ; I'm not afraid 
 to trust you, but there's a good deal to do before 
 Thanksgiving, you know, always. However, butter- 
 time's about over, that's one good thing." 
 
 " How long shall you stay, Miss Wilson? " 
 
 " I don't know. As long as I am needed. Father 
 here'll come down to Thanksgiving, and if the dear 
 child's better, maybe I'll come home then." 
 
 Very busy was the old lady all day. Grandfather 
 lent his assistance in all her plans, and they did not 
 forget that though Jotham was away, and Annette ill, 
 there was one left to be made happy. Many good 
 things went into the trunk for Harry, and many little 
 delicacies for the sick were packed there also, for 
 grandmother said, "There's no knowing what may 
 be wanted." 
 
 The morning came, and the resolute old lady went. 
 Mr. Wilson carried her to the depot, and returned to 
 his home alone. He sat down by his bright fire with 
 his newspaper, and read till he could find nothing more. 
 The markets, the stocks, the general news, and even 
 the advertisements passed under his scrutiny. Then 
 he folded his paper, sat back in his arm-chair, and
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 73 
 
 looked at the low rocking-chair standing empty in the 
 opposite corner. He thought of the many years he 
 had seen the fair, round face of his partner smiling 
 from that seat as it was drawn up before the fire while 
 her busy fingers knitted the socks ; and now the house 
 seemed empty. He hardly knew what to do. He took 
 off his spectacles and polished them the third time, 
 called the cat and stroked her fur in token of her mis- 
 tress, stirred the fire six times, yawned, dozed, and 
 yawned again, and finally walked to the window. 
 
 "I do declare!" he said to himself. "The house is 
 still as the grave, except the ticking of the clock, and 
 that seems like the knell of time ticking off the fatal 
 strokes that are never to return. It will tick me to the 
 grave pretty soon. Well, let it come. There's another 
 life beyond the bounds of time. "While I do live in 
 this world, I will do the best I can, and that is all God 
 requires of us. I believe I'll go down to Mr. Hanson's ; 
 Julia'll want to know about Annette." 
 
 Very soon the old gentleman was walking down the 
 street, assisted by his stout cane, and, as he came into 
 Mr. Hanson's kitchen he received a warm welcome, 
 but Julia was shocked at the tale he told her. 
 
 "Poor Annette!" she said, "I'm so sorry she's 
 sick."
 
 74 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 Grandfather wanted to speak of Jotham. He was 
 yearning for sympathy concerning the wayward boy ; 
 but by a great effort he suppressed his inclination. 
 
 " I'll come down and see you, Mr. Wilson," said 
 Julia. " You'll be very lonely without grandmother. 
 Why, I never knew her go away without you." 
 
 "No, she never did," replied the old man; " and I 
 tell you, even the cat misses her." 
 
 Before the week closed Mr. Wilson had visited 
 every neighbor within his reach, and at each place he 
 received a ready condolence. All respected him, and 
 now they strove to cheer him. The men came to sit 
 with him evenings, and the women sent frequent in- 
 quiries to know whether he was comfortable and 
 whether he had heard from Annette. 
 
 This journey was a great event in the life of old Mrs. 
 Wilson. It seemed to her a vast responsibility to 
 take charge of herself and trunk in the hurrying cars ; 
 but she was willing to do anything for the comfort of 
 the afflicted family. All the way her heart was full of 
 sympathy, and she longed to be there. Yet, when the 
 journey was ended, when the surprise and joy of her 
 reception was over, and she stood beside Annette's 
 bed, she was sadder than before. She had not an- 
 ticipated so great a change in her darling.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 75 
 
 Annette lay with her lips parted, her short breath 
 coming and going in thick, hot respirations, her silky 
 hair cut close to her head, and her eyes wandering in 
 unconsciousness. 
 
 "Poor child!" said grandmother, taking her thin, 
 burning hand in hers, while tears dropped upon her 
 cheeks. "Poor child! I didn't expect to see you so 
 low. You don't know me, do you ? No, you do not 
 even know I'm here. May the Lord be with you and 
 bring you up again ! " 
 
 With this prayer in her heart, grandmother drew a 
 chair to the bed, and there she installed herself. 
 
 "Xow, Mary," she said to the mother, "you must 
 go away and rest. You look all worn out. Just tell 
 me about the medicine, and I'll stay here." 
 
 Mrs. Wilson quietly yielded to her mother-in-law. 
 She felt that she could perfectly rely upon her judicious 
 care, and, with a grateful " thank you," she soon left 
 the room to seek the rest which during many days had 
 been denied her. 
 
 Grandmother watched every movement of the suffer- 
 ing girl ; bathed her face, her hands, and head ; moist- 
 ened her parched lips, and soon became established 
 as her principal nurse. The doctor was quite satisfied
 
 76 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 with the arrangement, for he saw that the old lady 
 knew well the necessities of the invalid. 
 
 "It is very strange," grandmother mused, as she 
 sat quietly by the bed, "it is very strange that 
 Annette should get this fever. A rosy-cheeked, 
 healthy girl like her could not have taken so violent a 
 cold, except through carelessness. Why can't young 
 people be more careful of their health ? Poor thing ! I 
 do hope she'll get well again. How she'll feel when 
 she knows Jotham is gone ! " 
 
 Nothing was said of Jotham in Annette's room, but 
 when Mr. Wilson came in at night, after his mother's 
 arrival, the old lady resigned her post by the bed, and 
 went out to see him. They sat together a long time, 
 and Mr. Wilson gave her an account of Jotham more 
 detailed than had been written in the letter. 
 
 " I am very, very sorry," grandmother said. " When 
 he came from our house, last summer, I did think he 
 had decidedly reformed. I thought he would be a good 
 boy, and he is so handsome and proud, that I rejoiced 
 you had so noble a son." 
 
 Mr. Wilson sighed. " I thought he was doing well. 
 I don't know but I did wrong myself. I ought to have 
 inquired more particularly into his conduct. He went 
 to school, stood high in his class, and I did not con-
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 77 
 
 sider that there might be unseen dangers. I declare, 
 it came upon me like a cold shower-bath when the 
 police-officer told me he was in the lock-up." 
 
 " In the lock-up, Josiah ! What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Didn't Mary write you about it? " 
 
 " Not a word." 
 
 " She didn't feel like it, I suppose. Between Jotham 
 and Annette, her heart is almost broken. Well, I'll 
 tell you. We were all feeling secure about Jotham ; he 
 had been a good boy, apparently, all the fall, when 
 suddenly, one morning, a police-officer called and told 
 me that he had been caught the night before stealing 
 apples from the garden of an old lady a little way out. 
 That shocked me, I can assure you." 
 
 "But, Josiah, was it really true? Did he really 
 steal the apples ? " 
 
 "Yes, mother, he was really caught beside the 
 garden-fence, with a bag partly filled with* the fruit. 
 I paid the old lady twenty-five dollars." 
 
 "Poor Jotham!" said grandmother. "What could 
 tempt him?" 
 
 "Well, I suppose those Thompson boys tempted 
 him. I had frequently forbidden him their company, 
 but their influence over him was greater than mine, 
 and I suppose he did go with them secretly. They
 
 78 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 were in the tree picking the apples, when Jotham was 
 caught with the bag outside, and they escaped." 
 
 " When was this? " asked grandmother. 
 
 " It was just a day before he left us. I suppose that 
 is the reason he went away. I reprimanded him. I 
 felt that he needed it and deserved it. My patience 
 was utterly worn with him. He had been repeatedly 
 forbidden to go with those boys, yet he not only went, 
 but must disgrace himself by joining them in robbing 
 fruit-trees. I declare, I never felt so badly about 
 anything; I could hardly keep at my business. I felt 
 disgraced. To think that Jotham should go from a 
 home of comfort, where he had been taught to know 
 better, and stealthily join such boys, and then fall 
 into the hands of the police, was more than I could 
 endure. He deserved reproof, and he got it." 
 
 As Mr. Wilson rehearsed his son's conduct to his 
 mother, hie eyes flashed and his anger roused. Evi- 
 dently, if Jotham had been present, he would have 
 received another rebuke. The kind old mother looked 
 steadily into the face of her son some minutes, then 
 addressed him again. 
 
 " Josiah, you know I used to tell you that I thought 
 you were too harsh with him. He could not be driven 
 so well as some boys. Different people have different
 
 THE CROOK ST^AIGHTEXED. 79 
 
 dispositions. Harry can be ordered and he will obey, 
 and Annette scarcely needs directing; but Jotham's 
 impulsive nature requires tact. He must be drawn- by 
 love and moulded by affection. Noble motives must 
 be set before him. A high aim must be given 
 him." 
 
 "You tried that, mother. You offered him prizes 
 for his lessons at school and for his good conduct, 
 and he was very boastful of his ability to obtain those 
 prizes. Yet you see they failed of keeping him." 
 
 "Well, Josiah, I hardly expected to be successful 
 at first. I wanted to test him, and you see his ambi- 
 tion was stimulated, by having an aim, for a time. 
 But, of course, he wearied of restraint. Had I been 
 with Mm, when I saw that weariness coming, I would 
 have devised a recreation that would be harmless, 
 and, at the same time, refresh his ardent mind. He 
 couldn't be quiet like Harry, and I would have 
 watched every change in him, and would have adapted 
 my advice to his necessities." 
 
 " But I couldn't spare time for such things, mother. 
 I must be at my business." 
 
 " But you have your evenings." 
 
 "Yes, I have those; but that is nearly all the time
 
 80 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 I have for reading my papers or anything of that 
 kind." 
 
 " But, Josiah, if you had relinquished partly your 
 own pleasure, and sought happiness by studying the 
 needs of your children, you might have been spared 
 this trouble." 
 
 Mr. Wilson did not reply. He realized the force 
 of his mother's reasoning, and was somewhat con- 
 scieuce-stricken, but yet was unwilling to admit that 
 he had been in error. He sat quite silent, thinking 
 of the past, and wondering whether he could have 
 taken another course with his son. At length the 
 mother asked, 
 
 " Have you made a thorough search? " 
 
 "I have done everything but advertise. After 
 Annette grew delirious and pleaded with him not to 
 go to sea, I visited every ship in the city." 
 
 " Hadn't you better advertise ? " 
 
 " No ; I'll not publish my disgrace in that way. 
 He may go. He will have to get his own living, and 
 perhaps that will do him good." 
 
 "Poor boy!" sighed grandmother. "I hope he 
 isn't suffering." 
 
 "Let him suffer," replied Mr. Wilson, his indigna- 
 tion again rising. " He causes us to suffer. He has
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 81 
 
 brought sorrow and anguish to his home; let him 
 feel anguish himself. He is breaking his mother's 
 heart; let his own break. It will do him good." 
 
 "Don't," said the mother, deprecatingly ; "don't 
 speak so harshly. Be pitiful towards him. He may 
 come home to-night. Who knows? He will not 
 find life among strangers very easy, and distress may 
 drive him home. Eeceive him kindly if he comes. 
 Let not your severity drive him to despair, lest you 
 injure where you would do good. Love, my son, was 
 the cord which reared you; love is the great bond 
 of the world. God is love." 
 
 Grandmother soon returned to Annette's room, 
 leaving the father thinking; but he was too truly 
 angry with Jotham to think with a right spirit. 
 His pride of character had been touched. It seemed 
 a disgrace, not to be wiped out, that Jotham should 
 conduct as he had, and this last crime of leaving 
 home so unceremoniously seemed not less than the 
 other. The boy, in his distant refuge, judged his 
 father with an unerring sagacity. 
 
 Faithfully, day after day, grandmother watched 
 
 over Annette, and, after a time, her labors were 
 
 rewarded. The fever subsided, and the girl slowly 
 
 returned to consciousness. She was weak and ex- 
 
 6
 
 82 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 hausted, but her eye assumed something of its natu- 
 ral expression, and she spoke rationally. 
 
 "I thank the Lord," said grandmother. "I will 
 write home and tell her grandfather. He will be 
 so happy to know it." 
 
 Some days elapsed before Annette inquired for 
 Jotham or Harry, and then she received an evasive 
 reply. They feared to excite her, and grandmother 
 hoped that Jotham would soon return. 
 
 " He cannot live away," the old lady reasoned. 
 "So tenderly as he has been reared, how can he 
 endure the coldness of strangers? How can he get 
 food and shelter just as the winter is coming on?" 
 The day before Thanksgiving grandfather left his 
 desolate home and came to his loved ones. He 
 could hardly wait for the day or the hours, he was 
 in so great haste to go ; yet when he came, and they 
 asked him whether he had been lonely, he answered 
 with an evasive smile, 
 
 "Lonely! Pshaw! Never was so contented in 
 my life. Things stayed where they were put. Didn't 
 get bothered with a woman's tongue always rattling. 
 It's fun to live alone, But how's Annette?" 
 
 "Oh, she's better, ever 69 jB ucl1 better. When 
 
 I
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 83 
 
 you get warm, you must go in and see her. She 
 sat up nearly an hour, yesterday." 
 
 Thanksgiving morning came, and if the aged visit- 
 ors were' not in a home of so much hilarity as they 
 had anticipated when they first proposed this visit, 
 yet there was certainly a quiet happiness in the 
 household, for though the truant was still away, 
 Annette was alive, and gave promise of recovery. 
 So, in the midst of sorrow, they yet had joy. 
 
 Annette sat bolstered up to eat her slight breakfast, 
 and when she had finished she begged to see Jotham 
 and Harry. Then they gently told her that only Harry 
 could come, and, after consultation, they told her that 
 Jotham was gone, they knew not where, and asked 
 her if she could imagine where he might be. For a 
 moment she gazed upon them wildly, and they feared 
 a relapse of her delirium, but suddenly pressing her 
 head between her hands as though to force thought, 
 she answered, 
 
 " Gone to sea, gone to sea." 
 
 "In what vessel?" eagerly asked the father. "I 
 have inquired everywhere." 
 
 " I don't know, father, but oh ! on that night he told 
 me he should go and should never come home again." 
 
 " On what night, Annette? What do you mean?"
 
 84 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " Don't you know ? The night I followed him ; I 
 led him home, and where have I been since? I was 
 so cold when I came home, oh, so cold ! and then I 
 went out of the cold into fire ! " 
 
 They stood around her astonished, and she thought 
 again. 
 
 " I told him I wouldn't tell," she murmured. " Well, 
 I didn't tell, but if he's gone again, my father ought to 
 know. Yes, father, he went out in the cold night, and 
 I followed him. I found him behind the square rock, 
 and I stayed there a long time, and I had no bonnet 
 nor cloak. He came home, and I promised not to tell. 
 I wouldn't have told if he had kept his word. The 
 next morning I had a headache and couldn't get up. 
 I haven't seen him since." 
 
 " And that was the very morning he left," said the 
 mother, in a despairing tone. "Oh, where is he? 
 where is he ? " 
 
 Annette lay back with a groan, and she sat up no 
 more that day. He was gone beyond her reach. She 
 was powerless, and through the long days in which 
 she slowly recovered, she revolved all the incidents 
 of that night and then often said, 
 
 " He has gone to sea. Poor Jotham ! If I could 
 only get him back again."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 85 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FIRST TRIAL AT WORK. 
 
 ,. p*f OTHAM was too tired to fall immediately to 
 sleep. His whole system seemed in pain. Two 
 days and a night of exposure to November 
 winds and cold, without food, had thoroughly exhaust- 
 ed him. Besides, the bed on which he lay was harder 
 than his own at home, and seemed chilled, like a bed 
 long unused. He turned and thought. There was no 
 ctfrtain at the window, and when he looked up a few 
 faint stars seemed mocking him in the distance. 
 
 Then he thought of Joseph, sent away from a good 
 place on a false accusation, " and all for me," he said 
 to himself. " I wish I hadn't touched the apple. It 
 wasn't mine, I had no right to it. What if I did leave 
 a cent to pay for it? How do I know the man wanted 
 to sell it? I had no right to buy his property without 
 his leave. Oh, dear ! What a bad boy I have been ! 
 What will become of me ? What shall I do ? Annette
 
 86 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 used to tell me to pray. Grandmother told me to 
 pray. But I can't pray now. I'm too wicked. I wish 
 I could go to sleep." 
 
 But it was long ere he could sleep. There was too 
 much paiu in his limbs to permit unconsciousness 
 even if his mind had been at rest, and as the hours 
 dragged along, thought became more intense. 
 
 " I couldn't be good now if I should try," he mused ; 
 " I've clone so much that is bad. I wonder what these 
 people think of me. I wonder what kind of people 
 they are. How queer they seem ! First they're cross, 
 then good-natured. I thought the woman was going 
 to turn me out at first, but then she grew quite good, 
 and said good-night when she took my candle. Well, 
 I don't know what will become of me, but father said 
 I ought to work, and I suppose I must." 
 
 The tall clock in the kitchen struck twelve, and then 
 one, before the boy was quieted. At last, sleep came, 
 and troubles were for the time forgotten. Gentle 
 slumber, which gives respite to the weary, careworn 
 brain, rested quietly on the lids of the wayward boy. 
 Shall we say that because he had done wrong no 
 angels watched him? Does God withdraw his care 
 from us because in our weakness we err and fall into 
 sin? Rather let us believe that angels watch the
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 87 
 
 wicked as well as the good, waiting for signs of re- 
 pentance that they may carry joyful news on high. 
 
 For a few hours Jotham slept ; but Enoch Higglesey 
 was aflearly riser. During more than fifty years, ever 
 since he could remember in his earliest childhood, he 
 had been a votary to work. Early and late his hands 
 were busy, and during all those years he had risen at 
 four o'clock. His motto was " early to bed and early 
 to rise." When the ancient bell of the brass clock 
 pealed out four strokes, the master of the house 
 stepped on to the floor. He never waited, never lin- 
 gered a moment, saying, " A little more slumber," 
 although since he had grown old, nature sometimes 
 suggested that a little more rest would certainly be 
 very comfortable. 
 
 His first work in winter was always to fill the capa- 
 cious kitchen stove with wood ; his next to proceed to 
 the barn, where there was never any lack of employ- 
 ment. As he was kindling his fire this morning, the 
 idea occurred to him that it was a morning of unusual 
 activity, and that a little help would be a great con- 
 venience. This was always Mr. Higglesey's thought 
 if any one was in the house who could be pressed into 
 service. He could work day after day alone rather 
 than pay for assistance, but neither friend nor stranger
 
 88 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 could visit him without being called into requisition 
 for some purpose. 
 
 " Now that boy is just what I want," he said to him- 
 self as he packed the wood into the stove. " til just 
 call him up." 
 
 Leaving the stove he rushed up the stairs, and began 
 to thump ; but Jotham was too far gone to be roused. 
 Mr. Higglesey stooped to avoid the beam, and ascended 
 to the chamber-door which .he opened. 
 
 " Holloa, here ! " he called ; but there was no reply. 
 
 " Holloa, I say ! " and then some more thumps on the 
 ceiling made so much rattling that the wearied boy 
 turned and groaned. 
 
 " Holloa, I tell ye, you young sleepy-head! " thuu- 
 dered the man. " Can't ye wake up? What ye made 
 of?" 
 
 Jotham opened his eyes with a wondering stare, and 
 the man continued, 
 
 "Come, come, youngster, wake up here. Come 
 down and help me. I've work enough for half a dozen. 
 What's the use to sleep your life away ? " 
 
 It was some minutes before Jotham could fully com- 
 prehend where he was, or what was wanted. But at 
 length his situation flashed into his mind, and with a
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 89 
 
 deep sigh, he answered, "Yes, sir, I'll come right 
 down." 
 
 "Wall, make haste," returned the man, descending 
 the stairs. 
 
 Jotham followed as soon as possible, and when he 
 reached the kitchen he found Mr. Higglesey was stand- 
 ing with his lantern lighted, an old hat on his head, 
 and striped mittens on his hands. Besides, he was 
 enveloped in a stout farmer's frock. He looked warm 
 and comfortable, and, as they stepped out at the door, 
 he felt no shivers from the cold morning wind. But 
 Jotham had no 'mittens, and his soft nice school suit 
 was rather too thin for so much exposure. In addition 
 to that he was not half rested, and, as he followed the 
 stout old farmer to the barn, his teeth chattered, and 
 chills crawled through his veins. 
 
 " I've got to go to town this morning," the farmer 
 remarked, putting the key into the barn-door. " I 
 promised Marston, the storekeeper up there, a load of 
 oats, and he wants 'em to send off. He thinks he's 
 made a good thing out of my trade, but he'll find, I 
 reckon, that I'm enough for him. Holloa, here, Tom 
 and Billy. How do you feel this morning? " 
 
 Jotham looked around to see who was addressed, 
 and found it was the horses, who whinnied in reply to
 
 90 THE CROOK STfiAIGHTEXED. 
 
 their master. The boy had great respect for these 
 horses, owing to their spirited overturn the night 
 before, and he soon found that Mr. Higglesey had an 
 equal regard for them. 
 
 " Pull down some hay from that highest scaffold," 
 said the master. "That's for the horses. I never 
 give them anything but the best. It don't pay to 
 keep 'em poor. I must have horses that can go 
 ahead on the road. I can't be all day out." 
 
 Jotham took a long-handled rake, made for the 
 purpose, and began to rake the hay from the high 
 scaffold. This labor reminded him of the morning 
 previous when he lay cooped on just such a scaffold 
 and saw the hay disappearing in the same manner 
 as it now came down. He almost trembled as the 
 idea suggested itself that some poor boy might be 
 up there now; but his common sense shook off the 
 delusion, and he continued at his work. 
 
 "Give 'em a good feeding," continued the farmer. 
 " They must be off by daylight. That's it. Now go 
 over in that corner and pitch out some corn-stalks 
 for the cows ; then get some meadow hay from the 
 bay there for the young critters. That's good 
 enough for them, and there's some bean-vines you 
 can throw out to the sheep. Fly round now. I'll
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 91 
 
 be mixing up some meal for the fatting oxen. Beefs 
 pretty high this fall, and I'm going to make mine 
 weigh. Ill make 'em bring in the money." 
 
 Jothain followed these directions with skill and 
 alacrity. The old man spoke with authority, and 
 the boy saw no way but to obey. 
 
 "Now," said Mr. Higglesey, when he had finished 
 stirring the meal, "I'm going in a minute. Toucan 
 be emptying the rest of those bags. Tip 'em up 
 into that big meal-chest. I've got to fill 'em pretty 
 soon. I'll bring the milk-pails when I come back." 
 
 The farmer went in, congratulating himself that he 
 had so good help this morning. He replenished the 
 fire, warmed his hands by the stove, and then 
 brought the milk-pails from the pantry near. Hast- 
 ening back to the barn, he found Jotham trying to 
 lift a heavy bag to the top of the meal-chest. There 
 were two or three bushels in the bag, and it quite 
 overpowered the boy's strength. 
 
 "Bah! you're a weak little thing," remarked the 
 farmer, giving the bag a pull which brought it to the 
 desired location. " Well, never mind, you'll grow 
 stronger. Untie the bag now and let the meal into 
 the chest, while I bring up another. That's it.
 
 92 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 You're nobody's fool, that's sartin, if I did find you 
 sittin' on a stone. Can you milk?" 
 
 "I don't know, sir. I never tried." 
 
 "Wall, you can learn, I s'pose. There must al- 
 ways be a first time." 
 
 "How many cows do you keep?" asked Jotham. 
 
 " Wall, we milk twelve through the summer, but 
 some on 'em are dry now, and I reckon there's only 
 seven to milk this morning. You take this pail and 
 try that one in the corner. She milks -pretty easy. 
 My old woman milks sometimes; but I guess you 
 can do it this time." 
 
 Jotham took. the pail and listened to the old farm- 
 er's directions, but his thoughts just then were 
 turned to something else. He had been taking a 
 survey of himself by the light of the lantern, and 
 he was not well pleased. The pretty suit of dark gray 
 which he wore was covered with dust. The hay and 
 the straw had fallen upon it, and now those bags of 
 meal had turned the front part of it as white as the 
 coat of a miller. He began to brush it down with 
 his hand. 
 
 "Pshaw! don't stop for that!" expostulated the 
 farmer. " We can't mind dirt when, there's so much
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 93 
 
 to do. Let me show you how to milk. Here's a 
 stool." 
 
 The cows were ranged side by side in the stalls, 
 and fastened by their heads. Mr. Higglesey passed 
 in behind them, followed by Jotham daintily pick- 
 ing his way by the light of the lantern. The farm- 
 er's heavy boots minded little where they stepped, 
 but Jotham's thin congress shoes were not accus- 
 tomed to this walking, and he moved with great 
 caution. 
 
 " Here's the cow," said Mr. Higglesey, placing 
 the stool beside a large cow, who looked as though 
 she had seen many summers. "I'll take the cow 
 next her, and if you need any help, just let me 
 know." 
 
 Jotham looked at the stool and the cow, and hesi- 
 tated. He had half a mind to say he would not do it; 
 but the farmer did not notice his hesitation. He saw 
 nothing disagreeable, nor once thought that the fastidi- 
 ous boy could be disgusted with what to him was a 
 part of natural life. 
 
 "Make haste," he said, turning to his own cow; 
 and Jotham unresistingly took a seat on the three- 
 legged stool. He had seen the men milk on his grand- 
 father's farm, but his own hands had never attempted
 
 94 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 the operation. The farmer turned his head back and 
 gave some directions, and soon a faint stream de- 
 scended to the pail, followed by others. 
 
 " Go ahead," said the farmer; " you're doing well ; " 
 while into his own pail the large streams came thick 
 and fast. 
 
 Jotham kept trying, but it seemed very hard and 
 disagreeable. The old cow, the most patient of her 
 kind, bore long with these efforts. She would not 
 willingly lift her foot, but it did seem to her that some 
 foolish person was at work upon her, and at last she 
 began to move. 
 
 "So!" called the farmer, seeing her uneasiness; 
 then, as he finished his cow and arose to go to another, 
 he came to Jotham's side and gave him a little prac- 
 tical instruction. The boy tried to follow it, and for a 
 short time succeeded a little better. Mr. Higglesey 
 left him, and once more the cow exercised her pa- 
 tience. But all patience must have an end, and so the 
 cow finally thought. An extra pinch from Jotham was 
 too much for endurance, and, lifting her foot, she gave 
 a vigorous thrust at the intruder. Over went the pail 
 and the milk, and over went Jotham, stool and all. 
 The milk flew up on to the clothes which' were previ- 
 ously covered with the meal, and now there was a
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 95 
 
 conglomeration, or paste, covering the nice school- 
 suit. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " groaned the boy, trying to gather him- 
 self up from the floor beneath the cow. 
 
 "What's the matter?" called the farmer, extending 
 his head forward to discover the extent of the catas- 
 trophe. "Ha! got kicked over, have you? Wall, 
 you must be a nateral fool if you couldn't milk that 
 cow. She's been on this farm more'n ten years, and 
 she never kicked before. Spilled your milk? " 
 
 "Yes, sir," sighed Jotham. "It is all gone." 
 
 "Wall, you'll catch it from Betsey, I reckon. Milk 
 makes butter ; and she's pretty careful of her butter I 
 can tell you." 
 
 Jotham sighed inwardly. He saw a sample of Mrs. 
 Higglesey's temper the night previous, and he dreaded 
 to irritate it. He dreaded to go into the house ; but 
 there was no alternative. He must have some break- 
 fast, and this was the only way of obtaining it. One 
 thought of home flashed across his mind, one mental 
 glance at Harry, probably then quietly sleeping in his 
 bed, and then Mr. Higglesey called him. 
 
 "Here, seeing you can't milk, take the lantern and 
 go up to the corn-barn; bring down a measure of
 
 96 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 corn and scatter it about the floor to be ready for the 
 hens. They'll be up soon." 
 
 Jotham took the lantern and a measure in his hands, 
 and went out. The cold wind struck him as he 
 emerged into the open air, but he dared not pause. 
 Mr. Higglesey had pointed out the corn-barn the night 
 before, at some distance from the large barn, and now 
 the boy found his way to it alone. There was plenty 
 of corn in it, shelled and unshelled, and it took but a 
 moment to fill the measure, with which, on his return, 
 he strewed the barn-floor. 
 
 "Now," called Mr. Higglesey, "you might as well 
 be pumping. The horses and cattle must drink by 
 and by, and you might fill up the trough." 
 
 The pump was slightly sheltered by a small board 
 erection, but it was cold there, and the handle made 
 the boy's unused fingers pretty numb; but he soon 
 found that the exercise offset the cold. The blood 
 mounted to his cheeks as he vigorously plied his arms 
 up and down. It seemed as though the trough would, 
 never fill. It was a huge thing, from which forty 
 cattle were expecting to drink. When it was at last 
 full, Jotham's forehead was covered with beads of 
 perspiration, his arms ached, and he felt very much 
 like dropping to the ground. Just then Mr. Hig-
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 97 
 
 glesey came out with his pails of milk. He was 
 delighted at the sight of the water, for the pumping, 
 he always declared, was the hardest thing he had to 
 do. He would have an easier pump, but it would cost 
 to change, and he had rather work his body to tie 
 last extremity than pay out money. He congratulated 
 himself as he went into the house that the water was 
 pumped for one morning, and therefore he felt quite 
 favorably disposed toward his guest. 
 
 When Jotham entered the kitchen again, he found 
 the table spread for the morning meal ; and this time 
 Mrs. Higglesey had taken the trouble to move it to 
 the middle of the room. But there was no white 
 cloth on it, and it seemed hard and cheerless with 
 only that painted covering. However, a dish of smok- 
 ing potatoes compensated for other defects ; for the 
 labors of the morning had stimulated the hunger of 
 the young workman. 
 
 " 'Pears to me there aint so much milk as common," 
 said Mrs. Higglesey, looking into the pails. 
 
 "No," replied Mr. Higglesey, "the boy got kicked, 
 and lost his." 
 
 " That's jest the way on't," returned the harsh voice 
 of the woman. " It's always jest so when there's a 
 boy round. They're nothing but bothers." 
 7
 
 98 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 But Mr. Higglesey's mind was still upon that trough 
 of water, and he answered, laughingly, 
 
 "Oh, boys aint so bad I They're mighty handy 
 sometimes. You see he never milked before, and 
 what could you expect of him?" 
 
 "Well, I don't care what I expect; I don't want to 
 lose my milk. There's butter forty cents a pound, 
 every cent on't, and going higher every day. Do you 
 think I want my milk spilt over? I tell you, Enoch 
 Higglesey, I won't have such work. I'll make a noise 
 about it, I tell you." 
 
 " Oh, you can make a noise any time ! " returned the 
 man, going to the kettle for hot water, which he 
 carried to a wash-basin, calling to Jotham to follow 
 him. 
 
 " Dip in," said the man ; and the delicate hands of 
 the school-boy were washed in the same dish with 
 those of the coarse farmer, and wiped upon the same 
 towel. The incongruity between them struck the 
 mind of the man, and he said, "Mighty soft hands 
 you've got, boy. Keckon they never did much work. 
 When they've been at it as many years as mine have, 
 they'll get toughened. Come, old woman, put on 
 your coffee."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 99 
 
 Mrs- Higglesey obeyed ; and her husband pointed to 
 a chair beside the table, saying, 
 
 " Sit down, boy, and help yourself." 
 
 Jotham was, at that moment, thinking he was unfit 
 to go to the table, his clothes were so soiled ; but he 
 saw that the farmer and his wife did not stop to think 
 of those secondary things. They had two aims in 
 life : one was to make money ; the other, to keep it. 
 And as they made money by work, labor became the 
 first object of their thoughts; and as much money 
 could be saved by the manner of eating, and the 
 quality of the food, therefore the table arrangements 
 were in accordance with economy. 
 
 The farmer sat down with his striped frock just as 
 he had come from the cows, and Mrs. Higglesey's 
 faded dress aud wide check apron were scarcely more 
 presentable. Jotham soon saw that, much as his own 
 clothes were soiled, he looked like a gentleman com- 
 pared with his rustic companions, and, without more 
 thought, he took a potato and commenced his repast. 
 There was only a dish of fried salt pork besides the 
 potatoes aud a plate of brown bread ; but genuine hun- 
 ger is not over-particular. It is only those who never 
 get truly hungry that are fastidious. Real hunger can 
 eat anything. Let almost any person abstain from
 
 100 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 food two days, and he will be able to drink barley 
 coffee sweetened with molasses as freely as Jotham 
 drank it that morning. He was thankful for his break- 
 fast and ate it accordingly. 
 
 "Now," said Mr. Higglesey, rising from the table, 
 when the meal was finished, "we might as well go 
 out and put up the oats. Coine, boy." 
 
 Again Jotham put on his cap and followed his mas- 
 ter. The oats were packed away in a large bin, and 
 bag after bag was filled. Jotham noticed that in 
 measuring, instead of drawing the stick straight 
 across the "half-bushel" into which they had been 
 dipped, the farmer managed to hollow each one, and 
 at last he ventured to speak of it. 
 
 "Hold your tongue," replied the man, sharply. "I 
 know what I'm about. Marston thought he'd make a 
 good bargain out of me, so he squeezed a cent off from 
 every bushel, but I can take it out of the measure. 
 If you tell of it though, I'll lick the hide off your very 
 body." 
 
 Jotham did not speak again, but a feeling of con- 
 tempt for the miserly man sprang up in his mind. Al- 
 though so conscious of his own misdeeds, he despised 
 dishonesty, and the scanty measures which they 
 poured into the bags seemed to him the height of
 
 TRE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 101 
 
 meanness, and a train of reasoning arose in his 
 thoughts. 
 
 " If I am so mean," he mused, " I'm as good as this 
 man, and he feels pretty nicely over himself. He 
 thinks he's done a shrewd thing; I think I'd be 
 ashamed to do it. Well, I remember my Sabbath- 
 school teacher used to say, all people had defects, . 
 some in one form, some in another ; and that we must 
 excuse each other on that ground. If my father had 
 thought of that, he would not have been so cross to 
 me, and then I would riot have run away from home. 
 I wonder \vhat George and James Thompson think of 
 me. I wonder where they are. They ought to have 
 gone into the lock-up instead of me. They put me 
 up to steal Mrs. Peckham's apples. I told them ever 
 so many times that I wouldn't go, and I never would 
 only, George said he'd tell my father about that knife. 
 Oh, dear ! " 
 
 While Jotham was thus reasoning, Mr. Higglesey, 
 too, was thinking, but his thoughts were in another di- 
 rection. He was estimating how much he would be 
 likely to save by his scant measure, and was thinking, 
 "Wall, a little here, and a 'little there makes a good 
 deal. The way to do is to save all we can." 
 
 "Boy," said the farmer, when the oats were all
 
 102 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 measured, "you'd better stay here till I come back. I 
 can give you enough to do. There's that pile of pump- 
 kins, I want a lot of them chopped up for the cattle ; 
 then there's all the cattle to water, the stable to clear, 
 the pigs to feed, and the cattle to be fed occasionally. 
 If you don't know how to do it, my old woman, she 
 can show you. She's as good at it as I am. There's 
 no knowing how long I may be gone. I've got to get 
 these harnesses mended." 
 
 There was nothing very inviting in this proposal. 
 It would not be very agreeable to work all day, but 
 how else could there be any dinner? Jotham agreed 
 to stay, for he dreaded starting off again with no 
 money in his pocket. The remembrance of his weari- 
 ness and hunger was fresh in his mind, and he thought 
 it would be better to work and have some dinner, even 
 though the food was coarse. At least it was whole- 
 some, and a poor home was far better than none. 
 
 Never before had he so exerted himself to please as 
 this day. Faithfully he performed every duty that the 
 farmer had laid before him, repulsive as it was. As 
 he knew scarcely anything of such work, his natural 
 intelligence served in the place of practical experience. 
 Mrs,r Higglesey often came out to see that everything 
 was right, and her instructions assisted him greatly.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 103 
 
 She seemed to have become reconciled to the loss of 
 her milk, for although her tones were coarse and 
 harsh, Jotham saw that she was not angry. In fact, 
 she was beginning to think it would be a very good 
 plan to secure the services of so smart a boy, and she 
 busied her thoughts contriving how little it would do 
 to offer him in pay. 
 
 " One thing is true," she said to herself, " it is easier 
 to rise than to fall ; so we'll not offer him too much at 
 first. I shouldn't wonder if we could make a good 
 thing out of him."
 
 104 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CHURNING AND PUMPING. 
 
 'RE Mr. Higglesey came home, the work at 
 the barn was completed, and Jotham Was 
 in the house. But he was not idle. Mrs. 
 Higglesey's conscience would never permit idleness, 
 and as she could really find nothing more to do at 
 the barn just then, she had taken advantage of the 
 opportunity to have her wood-box filled, her pails 
 of water replenished, and several other small as- 
 sistances secured. 
 
 " I declare," she said to herself, " it's right handy, 
 as Enoch says, to have some one to help." 
 
 The farmer's breakfast had been so early that 
 Jotham grew quite faint before noon. He did wish 
 he could just have an apple or a piece of bread and 
 butter when he came in from the barn ; but he dared 
 not mention it to the broad-faced woman, who was 
 busy with her pans of milk, apparently not thiukiug
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 105 
 
 it possible that the boy could be hungry or even 
 weary. A boy, in her eyes, was a piece of machinery 
 to be wound up in the morning and to be kept run- 
 ning all day with the steadiness of a watch. 
 
 At twelve o'clock Mr. Higglesey had not returned, 
 and Mrs. Higglesey, remarking that she "never 
 made much fuss over dinner when he was away," 
 produced" a bowl of bread and milk, which she placed 
 before Jotham, at the same time making a cup of 
 tea for herself. 
 
 "There's nothing so good for children as milk," 
 she observed, as she handed him the bowl. "It 
 makes 'em grow right up like weeds." 
 
 Jotham was quite fond of milk; he used often to 
 beg his grandmother for bread and milk; but that 
 was rich and nourishing, for Grandmother Wilson 
 stirred in. her cream, while this which Mrs. Higgle- 
 sey brought had been skimmed till its color was 
 a delicate shade of blue. But Jotham's keen appe- 
 tite compensated for the poor quality, and without 
 complaint he ate the whole, only wishing he could 
 have more. He had noticed beside the stove a 
 box standing on legs and a crank attached to the 
 box, and when he had finished his bread and milk, 
 Mrs. Higglesey called his attention to it.
 
 106 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 "See that," she said. "Did you ever churn?" 
 
 " No, ma'am." 
 
 " Well, 'tisn't much to learn. You've only to turn 
 that crank round till the butter comes. I put in 
 the cream some time ago, so as to have it warm- 
 ing. You've nothing else to do, and you might as 
 well be turning the crank." 
 
 Jotham moved his chair beside the churn and 
 began to turn. The crank went over heavily, for 
 the cream was thick and stiff, but gradually it soft- 
 ened, and presently it began to slosh against the 
 sides of the box in genuine cream fashion. The 
 boy looked at the clock occasionally, still turning, 
 till an hour elapsed. His arms and shoulders were 
 weary; he changed hands often to rest himself, but 
 still the cream continued that same dull slosh. 
 
 " I don't know what ails it," Mrs. Higglesey said, 
 removing the lid and scraping the froth down with 
 a knife. "It acted just so last week. I thought 
 'twould never come. I s'pose it's because the cows 
 have come to the barn. Cream never does come 
 well, right between hay and grass. Well, it's lucky 
 you've got nothing else to do, so you can keep at it." 
 
 She closed the churn, and the churner recom- 
 menced his labors. She combed her hair by the
 
 A HARD DAY'S WORK. Pages 106 and 107.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED 107 
 
 kitchen glass, took her knitting and sat down. He 
 turned and turned the iron crank till his stomach 
 grew faint again, his hands were nearly ready to 
 blister, and his face was covered with hot flushes. 
 She knit and knit, unmindful of his weariness. Her 
 feet were on the hearth of the stove, and she seemed 
 quite contented and comfortable. 
 
 "It's time Enoch was here," she remarked, at 
 length. " I may as well put on his potatoes. He 
 never's quite contented with bread and milk, though 
 I made him eat it last churning-day, for the cream 
 was full three hours coming." 
 
 "Three hours!" thought Jotham with a shiver 
 of dread. "I've churned almost two, now. I can't 
 stand it another hour, no way. My arms will break 
 off." 
 
 Again he changed hands by way of relief, but 
 both arms were so tired that changing was of little 
 use. He hadn't been thoroughly rested since the 
 pumping in the morning. Slowly, wearily, another 
 half hour dragged away, and still the same splash 
 was ringing in the boy's ears. Mrs. Higglesey 
 came again to the churn with her knife in her 
 hand, and once more the froth was scraped down. 
 She was becoming impatient.
 
 108 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 "I don't want to lose this week's churning," she 
 said; "just when butter's growing higher every 
 day. Churn faster, boy. Maybe if you churn faster 
 it will come." 
 
 An inward sigh was Jotham's only response. 
 Taking the crank once more in his red, burning 
 palms, he began to turn with increased velocity. 
 The hot blood flushed into his forehead; putting 
 up one hand he rubbed the moisture from his 
 brow and threw the hair away from his temples, 
 then changed hands and sent the obdurate cream 
 against its prison sides In splashing fury. Mrs. 
 Higglesey sat complacently rejoicing that it was 
 not herself doing the work, though her broad hands 
 and stout arms looked much more fitted for it 
 than did the tender hands and unused arms that 
 were taking her place. Just then the horses passed 
 the kitchen windows, and Mr. Higglesey called. 
 The woman arose and went to the door. 
 
 "Where's the boy?" asked the farmer. 
 
 " He's in here, helping me." 
 
 " Tell him to come out and help me put up 
 Tom and Billy." 
 
 "You can't have him." 
 
 "Why can't I?"
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 109 
 
 "Because I want him. You've put up the horses 
 a good many years, and I guess you can do it 
 once more. I want the boy to churn." 
 
 "To churn!" echoed the man. "Wall, let him 
 churn, then." 
 
 Jotham's hopes went down. He would much 
 rather put up Tom and Billy than to churn, for 
 he was sure his arms would break if he had to 
 turn there much longer. But Mr. Higglesey had 
 churned many times in his life, and he, too, pre- 
 ferred putting up the horses. Without a word he 
 went to the barn alone, and the churning con- 
 tinued uninterrupted. Little blisters came on the 
 inside of the tender hands, but he dared not show 
 them, for the woman's heavy voice and brisk man- 
 ner quite put him in awe. Evidently she expected 
 to be obeyed in her own house, and how could 
 a friendless, homeless outcast rebel against her? 
 When Mr. Higglesey came in, the three hours were 
 nearly expired, but the cream remained unchanged. 
 
 " What ails the stuff ? " asked the man as his wife 
 entered her complaints. " You didn't get it warm 
 enough." 
 
 " Warm enough ! " retorted the woman. " Do you 
 think I don't know anything? I've had that churn
 
 110 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 beside the stove the whole forenoon. It ought to be 
 warm enough." 
 
 " Then I s'pose you got it too warm." 
 
 "Too warml Of course that's the next thing to 
 say. I tell you 'tisn't too warm. I've churned forty 
 years, and I guess I know how warm to have my 
 cream." 
 
 " Pshaw ! you can't always tell. You see the 
 weather's different some days from others." 
 
 "Don't you think I know that, Enoch Higglesey? 
 I don't go by the weather. I can tell by myself." 
 
 Jotham, puffing in exhaustion, ventured to speak in 
 a mild voice, 
 
 " My grandmother keeps a thermometer, and she 
 holds it into the cream to try it." 
 
 " A 'mometer! " repeated Mrs. Higglesey, scornfully. 
 " Well, let her keep her 'mometer. I don't want none 
 of yer new-fangled notions. I've churned forty years, 
 and I guess my flnger'll tell how warm the cream is. 
 Miss Clarke, up here, she hangs a ' mometer in her 
 dairy- room and keeps her room just so warm ; but I'm 
 not going to pay a dollar for a 'mometer. I can tell 
 when a room's warm enough by my feelings." 
 
 Jotham said no more. It was apparent that new- 
 inventions, if they cost money, would never be accept-
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. Ill 
 
 able to Mrs. Higglesey. She preferred putting her 
 dollars in the bank, and then treading in the self-same 
 paths her fathers trod. With a resolute air she pre- 
 pared Mr. Higglesey's dinner, and Jotham continued 
 churning. 
 
 " It beats all I ever did see ! " she exclaimed, at last, 
 when he had churned full four hours. "I'm afraid 
 'twill never come. It don't gain a bit." 
 
 " Put some salt in," said Mr. Higglesey, rising from 
 the table at the side of the room, and smacking his 
 lips at the close of his dinner. 
 
 " Well, I will. I never thought of that," and direct- 
 ly she allowed Jotham to pause while she poured in a 
 cup of salt. 
 
 " Let me see what ails it," said Mr. Higglesey, 
 coming forward and taking hold of the crank. 
 
 Jotham stopped with a thrill of relief. It seemed to 
 him that one turn of that terrible machine by some- 
 body else, would be a source of joy to him. He looked 
 at the inside of his hands, and then he straightened 
 his limbs, cramped by long sitting. 
 
 " I don't believe this'll come, mother," said Mr. 
 Higglesey. " It looks just like that we had last fall. 
 We sold that to Marston, you know, and he sent it off 
 to the city. I guess you'd better sell this."
 
 112 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " I guess I won't. Not till it lias been churned some 
 longer, any way. What's the use to give up now? 
 Let the boy churn." 
 
 " But I want him out to the barn, now. I want the 
 horses watered, and the cattle ought to drink again, 
 and there aint a mite of water pumped." 
 
 " Well, I want the churning." 
 
 "Let the churning go a spell. Come, boy; come 
 out to the barn with me." 
 
 Jotham hardly knew which to obey, both seemed to 
 possess so much authority, but, as Mrs. Higglesey did 
 not speak again, he followed her husband, glad to be 
 released. He gained little, however, for his first 
 business was to fill that trough with water from the 
 pump. Then the horses were to be combed, and the 
 farmer called him to assist. 
 
 This was the most agreeable part of the labor to the 
 incipient workman. A horse was always his delight, 
 and these were fine, spirited animals. He could 
 already distinguish Tom from Billy, although they 
 were well mated. 
 
 "Tom's the smartest horse," he said' to the farmer, 
 as the two curried each his own beast. 
 
 " Wall, I reckon he is," returned the farmer, " though 
 there aint much difference in 'em. They're smart crit-
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 113 
 
 ters. They'll take me to the city in four hours, and 
 draw a pretty good load too." 
 
 " Can you go clear to the city in four hours? " asked 
 the boy. 
 
 "Yes, any day." 
 
 Jotharn thought of the two days during which he 
 had walked in getting to the farmer's home, and he 
 wondered how the farmer could go the same in four 
 hours ; but then he reflected that he had probably come 
 by a longer route than the farmer took, and that the 
 horses were swift travellers. 
 
 " You understand this business," said the farmer, 
 watching the boy as he dexterously smoothed Tom's 
 chestnut coat. " Guess you've worked at it." 
 
 "I've done it for fun," replied Jotham. "Old Joe 
 Smith, the hostler, used to let me help him, and some- 
 times I'd get rides to pay." 
 
 " Wall, I'm glad you like it. I never like it very 
 well ; so, if you'll stay with me, I'll let you take care 
 of Tom and Billy. You may keep 'em as shiny as you 
 like. How should you like to stay with me ? " 
 
 " I don't know," answered Jotham. " I don't know 
 where to stay." 
 
 " Wall, you might as well stay with me as anybody. 
 It's a bad time of year for getting work, and if your 
 8
 
 114 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 father'd known anything about farming, he'd never 
 sent you out jest the first of the winter. I don't be- 
 lieve there's another family in this neighborhood that 
 wants a boy, and if you go further, you'll find it jest 
 the same. Folks don't have much to do in the winter, 
 and there's always more men and boys than places." 
 
 Jotham thought quite likely this statement was true, 
 and he had a terrible dread of being homeless again. 
 Besides, just now he was feeling more natural, for the 
 horses had restored him a little to happiness. He 
 liked to be near them, to rub their smooth sides, and 
 his eye was filled with the beauty of their graceful 
 proportions. He thought they were almost equal to 
 his grandfather's colts which had so delighted him. 
 
 "Wall, what say, boy?" continued the farmer. 
 ""Will you stay with me?" 
 
 Jotham, rubbing Tom's shoulder, was thinking it 
 would be grand fun to ride on his graceful back, and 
 he answered the farmer's question by asking another. 
 
 " If I stay, can I ride Tom sometimes?" 
 
 "Ride Tom! Wall, I don't know. Yes, I don't 
 care if you ride, that is, if you know how to ride 
 without being thrown." 
 
 " Yes, indeed I do. Joe Smith used to let me ride 
 ever so much,"
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 11 
 
 " "Wall, you can ride. But if you stay with me 
 you'll have to work. We don't have drones in our 
 line. All that we have must pay. That's the way 
 to get along in the world." 
 
 Jotham's arms were still aching from the labors 
 of the day, but his judgment and his experiences 
 told him that it would not be wise to refuse the 
 farmer's offer, and he answered, directly, " Yes, sir, 
 I'll stay." 
 
 The supper at the side-table, the evening work at 
 the barn, and all out-door duties were performed, 
 and Jotham came in, hoping he might go to bed, or 
 at least sit by the fire and rest; but Mrs. Higglesey 
 had her own plans. She was determined to have 
 some butter from that cream. She had churned at 
 intervals since Jotham went out, hoping to see some 
 signs of the desired separation of the buttery 
 crumbs from the milk; but no change had yet 
 shown signs of occurring. The moment Jotham 
 came in, she called him. 
 
 " There, I'm glad your work is done," she said. 
 " Now take a chair and sit down again by this 
 churn. I never did see anything like this cream; 
 but I'm not going to give it up."
 
 116 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 Jotham took his place by the churn, and again 
 began to torn. 
 
 "Faster," said the woman, and then he turned 
 more swiftly, while the old farmer sat before the 
 oven with his pipe under the flue. Around and 
 around went the crank, while the weary young 
 workman watched the clock, wishing that would go 
 with as great speed as his hands were using. An 
 hour seemed to him like three; but nevertheless it 
 ended at last, and the cream remained cream still. 
 
 "What's the use of trying?" said Mr. Higglesey, 
 at length, knocking the ashes from his pipe, and 
 closing the oven door. "I've seen cream before, 
 and I tell you, Betsey, that won't come. There's 
 no use." 
 
 " But I'm not going to give it up," replied the 
 woman. " I reckon I've got some perseverance. If 
 you've got done smoking, take hold yourself." 
 
 Very obediently the husband came to the churn, 
 and Jotham was once more released. The new 
 workman began to investigate. 
 
 "I tell you, Betsey, pour in some hot water." 
 
 "And so spoil my buttermilk by having water 
 in it."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 117 
 
 "Who cares for the buttermilk? There's no use 
 in churning here all night." 
 
 " No, of course you don't care ; but I do. I want 
 it to use." 
 
 A little longer Mr. Higglesey churned, and then 
 rising he seized the tea-kettle and poured in the 
 boiling water. Again he churned, but there was no 
 butter. 
 
 " Pour out the cream," he exclaimed, at length, 
 exasperated. " I'll carry it to Marston's to-morrow." 
 
 "I won't pour it out," replied the woman. "I'll 
 let it stand and try it again to-morrow." 
 
 Jotham was thankful to be released, and soon Mr. 
 Higglesey bade him go to bed. 
 
 " You don't need a light," said the woman. " Take 
 care and not bump your head on the beam." 
 
 Cautiously he ascended the stairs, and, entering 
 the small chamber, closed the door behind him. 
 Then, by the light of the stars through the window, 
 groping his way to the bed, he threw himself upon 
 it, and burst into tears. Mr. Higglesey closed the 
 door at the foot of the stairs, and then took a seat 
 by the stove, while Mrs. Higglesey moved the churn 
 back to await another day. 
 
 "I tell you, Betsey," he said, as the woman took
 
 118 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 her knitting and returned to her chair, " this ere's a 
 smart boy. It's a lucky hit that sent him to us." 
 
 " Have you made a bargain with him, Enoch? " 
 
 " I asked him if he'd stay, and he said he would. I 
 s'pose I shall have to pay him a little." 
 
 "I wouldn't give him much. You'll have to board 
 him, you know." 
 
 "Yes, I know; and that's about as much as his 
 work is worth, these short days. But he'll have to 
 have clothes, you know." 
 
 "Yes, Enoch; and now I think of it, wouldn't it be 
 a good plan to agree to give him his board and 
 clothes ? I reckon I could fix up his clothes cheaper 
 than we could pay him any other way." 
 
 "That's a good idee, Betsey. You're pretty good 
 at planning, that's sartain." 
 
 " Nobody can beat me, I reckon," she answered, 
 complacently shrugging her shoulders. "It was a 
 lucky thing for you, Enoch Higglesey, when you got 
 me. I've saved you many a dollar. You'd never been 
 so rich as you are, if you'd had some women." 
 
 Mr. Higglesey was too wise to dispute this point, 
 and his wife retired well satisfied with herself and 
 with the world in which she lived. 
 Jotham, on his bed, wept long and freely, like a
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 119 
 
 girl full of sorrows. He was utterly exhausted. It 
 was the first day of toil his life had ever known, and 
 it had been of unceasing severity. He was sure he 
 would not live long if he must work like that every 
 day; but, then, what could he do? Where could he 
 go?" 
 
 A little voice, low down in his heart, whispered, 
 " Go home," and he almost started to obey the sum- 
 mons. He thought he would run down the stairs, 
 out at the door, and away, nor would he pause till he 
 reached his father's home. There he would throw 
 himself upon his knees and implore his parents' for- 
 giveness. Nay, more, he would even submit to pen- 
 ances and bear punishments till his father would be 
 satisfied that he would reform. Yes, he would go 
 home that very minute ; and he sprang from the bed 
 for the purpose ; but, as he looked through the win- 
 dow, he was recalled to the difficulties of starting 
 off to walk twenty-five or thirty miles in the dark- 
 ness of so cold a night. Experience warned him of 
 the weary road he would have to travel, and he 
 hesitated. 
 
 " I'll not go to-night," he said to himself, " but to- 
 morrow morning I'll start." 
 
 With this resolution he retired; but sleep did not
 
 120 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 immediately come to him, and, as he lay awake, new 
 thoughts counteracted his resolution. 
 
 " Would it not be mean and babyish to go home? " 
 he asked himself. His father had told him he ought 
 to work for his living, and, perhaps, if he should go 
 home, his father would remind him of his reply, how 
 he had boastingly said he guessed he could work; 
 and, if he should fail now, on the very first day of 
 his trial, it would poorly accord with his boast. Be- 
 sides, he was not sure of a welcome reception by his 
 father ; and he would have to explain his conduct, tell 
 where he had been, and be subject to an inquisition. 
 Of course all his acquaintances knew by this time 
 that he was gone, and, if he should go home so soon, 
 they would laugh at him, and say he had no spunk. 
 
 " No, I'll not go home," he said, emphatically, 
 when he had revolved the subject in all its bearings. 
 
 He was a little rested now, and his courage 
 revived a little. He couldn't help wishing this 
 home was like his grandfather's. He thought it 
 would be a real pleasure to work on a farm if he 
 could only live with such people as his grandfather 
 and grandmother. They were so kind and intelligent, 
 and their home so pleasant, that it would be delight- 
 ful to live with them. They never made any one
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 121 
 
 work too much, nor were they ever stingy of their 
 food. 
 
 However, the question was not whether he could 
 work with such people, but could he work here? 
 Here was a place offered him, and he was penniless. 
 If he should leave, he had nowhere to go. He might 
 have to take lodgings in a barn again, and where 
 would he get food? It would be better to stay 
 here. Yes, he would stay. Of course the farmer 
 would pay him, and then, when he had earned some 
 money, he would go home and show his father what 
 he could do. 
 
 Having made this resolution, he was more quiet. 
 Naturally brave, he determined to persevere. He 
 had only lost his courage because he had gone in 
 crooked paths. Had he followed the straight road 
 of integrity, no boy would have been more cour- 
 ageous than he. Quick in his impulses, ardent in 
 his nature, with a brain capable of enlarged thought, 
 and a social nature that sympathized with all about 
 him, he might have been respected and happy but 
 for the fatal yielding to bad companions. Boys 
 whom he well knew were unsafe advisers he had 
 permitted to lead him, and now he was reaping that 
 which he had sown.
 
 122 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 Sleep came at length, the eyelids drooped, but not 
 till thoughts of Annette's oft-repeated words had 
 sounded in his ears. It seemed as though he could 
 hear her saying, "Pray;" and one brief prayer went 
 from his heart to the God who he knew was watching 
 him with love.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 123 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE NEW CLOTHES. 
 
 (AVING finally concluded that the cheapest 
 way of paying the new boy was by providing 
 his clothes, Mrs. Higglesey's next plan was 
 to procure those clothes at the cheapest rate. This 
 subject occupied her thoughts through the night, and 
 by morning she had an arrangement which was quite 
 satisfactory. When Jotham came in to breakfast, hav- 
 ing been at the barn since four, as on the preceding 
 morning, Mr. Higglesey once more mentioned the 
 subject of his remaining. 
 
 " You see, boy," he said, " you can't earn much any- 
 where this winter. If you can get your board and 
 clothes, it is all you can expect. I'll give you that if 
 you'll stay with me." 
 
 "Can't you give me any money?" asked Jotham, 
 unwilling to work on quite so low terms. 
 
 " Wall, no, I can't afford to ; and if I should, you'd
 
 124 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 have to spend it for clothes ; so it would be as long 
 as it is broad." 
 
 Jothara hesitated. He wanted to earn some money 
 so that he might have some to show his father if he 
 should ever dare to go home. 
 
 "You can't do any better," pursued Mr. Higglesey. 
 " Some folks only give a boy his board for what 
 he does; but I don't want to be hard, I'll give you 
 your clothes." 
 
 Jotham consented at length. He could see no better 
 way. He glanced at himself, and thought how sadly 
 he had soiled his pretty school-suit,. and how much he 
 needed another, because he could not go home for 
 others. 
 
 " This is only fit for the barn," he said, inwardly. 
 " It is covered with dirt now." 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey, too, was looking at the suit, and she 
 was forming a more economical plan. As soon as 
 Jotham had assented to Mr. Higglesey's proposal, 
 she introduced her idea. 
 
 " Now," she said, " them clothes you have on are 
 too good to work in. Why didn't you bring some old 
 clothes if you was going to work on a farm?" 
 
 "These are rny old clothes," he answered, simply. 
 
 " They are ! Well, they're good enough to wear to
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 125 
 
 meeting. You don't need anything better. We can 
 rub the dirt off a little, and I can fix you up a suit 
 to work in." 
 
 There was a slight twitching about the boy's mouth. 
 He thought of the handsome garments, hanging in his 
 closet at home, which his father had just purchased; 
 but he knew they were useless to him now. He must 
 submit to the circumstances he had brought upon 
 himself. 
 
 "What are you thinking?" asked Mrs. Higglesey, 
 sternly. "I tell you these clothes are too good to 
 work in. There's no use in boys feeling stuck up." 
 
 " I'll do as you think best," answered the boy, awed 
 by her frowning countenance. 
 
 This answer pacified her, and she ate her breakfast 
 in self-satisfaction, thinking meanwhile that she would 
 that very day make the boy a suit of clothes from some 
 old ones Mr. Higglesey had cast aside. 
 
 "Come," said the farmer, when breakfast was fin- 
 ished ; and Jotham immediately followed him. 
 
 " What are you going to do? " asked Mrs. Higglesey, 
 as they were going out 
 
 " Boil potatoes," replied the man. 
 
 " Why can't you do it alone? I want Jotham."
 
 126 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 *^R> do I want him, and I reckon I've a right to 
 him. I hire him." 
 
 "Yes, and who pays him? Don't I have all the 
 trouble of the care of him ? Haven't I got to fix his 
 clothes, and do everything for him?" 
 
 " Wall, what if you have ? You can't have him now. 
 Churn yourself." 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey said no more, and Jotham followed 
 the farmer to the house where the swine were kept. 
 The man was quite delighted with his bargain, and 
 was very jocose. 
 
 " I reckoned you might get hungry," he said ; " so I 
 thought we'd boil up a kettleful for you." 
 
 "You going to boil all those?" asked Jotham, in 
 surprise, as the man brought forward some baskets of 
 potatoes and apples. 
 
 "Yes. This won't last long. You bring some 
 water. Take those pails and fill up the kettles here, 
 while I fix the potatoes." 
 
 It was not very agreeable work ; but Jotham knew 
 he must accept whatever was ordered him. He 
 brought the large pails full of water from the trough 
 which had been filled by his own labor, then made the 
 fires under the kettles, and then sat down to watch. 
 The odor of the place was vfery disagreeable, for
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 127 
 
 
 
 several hogs had compartments within the build i%, 
 and the steam from the kettles was not very sweet. 
 Yet the boy was thankful to sit here, for it was com- 
 parative rest, and the labors of the previous day had 
 caused a soreness throughout his system. The po- 
 tatoes were nearly cooked, and he was sitting with his 
 head resting wearily on a bench near, when some one 
 suddenly accosted him. 
 
 " Holloa, here ! " said the voice. 
 
 Jotham raised his eyes, and saw before him a man 
 in a laborer's garb. 
 
 " Holloa, here ! " repeated the man. " Where's 
 Higglesey?" 
 
 " I don't know," answered Jotham. " In the house, 
 or at the barn." 
 
 " And who are you? " continued the mart. 
 
 "Jotham Wilson, sir." 
 
 " Jotham Wilson ! Well, that's a new name to me. 
 You don't live in these parts, I take it." 
 
 " I'm going to live here, sir." 
 
 Jotham looked in the man's face as he replied, and, 
 in spite of his dejection, there was a brightness in his 
 eyes, and his replies were in a gentlemanly manner. 
 The man gazed at him a moment. 
 
 "Are you related to Mr. Higglesey?"
 
 128 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 f No, sir; I'm going to work for him." 
 
 "You are! Well, you've got a tough one to work 
 for, that's a fact. Hell grind your eye-teeth out of 
 you. You don't look like a farmer's boy. Where did 
 you come from ? " 
 
 " From Boston." 
 
 "You did! Well, you look like it. But I tell you, 
 you must look out for Higglesey. He's a sharp one." 
 
 " Could I do any better? " asked the boy, encouraged 
 
 by the friendly tones of his visitor. " Do you know 
 
 i 
 of anybody that wants a boy ? " 
 
 " Well, no, I can't say I do. It's pretty hard to find 
 places at this time of year. But I'll go to the barn, I 
 guess, and see if Higglesey's there." 
 
 There was a blunt honesty in the speech of this man 
 that went straight to Jotham's heart. He thought how 
 much he would like to work for such a man. But no, 
 he must stay where he was, for this man had con- 
 firmed Mr. Higglesey's words that there were few who 
 wanted to hire at this season. 
 
 " Well," he said to himself, " I must stay here, and 
 do the best I can. I'll try to please, anyway. Jotham 
 Wilson is not the boy to flinch. I'll show rny father 
 that I can do something." 
 
 As he said this, he straightened back and put his
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 129 
 
 hand in his pocket. Then he drew it out, and in it was 
 the pearl-handled knife his grandmother gave him. 
 He looked at it a moment, and the promise he made 
 the giver recurred to him. 
 
 "I did promise my grandmother I'd try to be good," 
 he mused. " I wonder what she thinks of me now. 
 Of course Annette has written that I am gone. Well, 
 grandfather and grandmother'll never think much of 
 me again. There's no use in my going home. Every- 
 body would look upon me with contempt. So I'll stay 
 here and work." 
 
 When he went in to dinner, he found Mrs. Higgle- 
 sey very busy. A pair of coarse gray pants lay be- 
 side her to which the shears had been freely applied. 
 They had seen much service, but by turning, cutting 
 away the seams, and some patching, Mrs. Higglesey 
 said they would wear a long spell yet. Then there was 
 a coat shortened to a jacket, and an old striped frock 
 awaiting diminution. 
 
 Jotham looked at the garments and wondered how 
 he would look when he should be arrayed in them ; but 
 he said not a word. He had resolved to make the best 
 of everything, and " after all," he thought, " it matters 
 not about my clothes. Nobody knows me here, and I 
 9
 
 130 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 don't want they should know me. If I could only earn 
 some money, I'd like it." 
 
 There was a dish of hot baked beans upon the 
 table, and this constituted the dinner. Mrs. Higgle- 
 sey's attention was fully occupied with her sewing, 
 and dinner was of very slight importance. Jotham 
 was fond of beans, and he ate freely ; but he did wish 
 he could have a piece of pie afterwards, such as his 
 grandmother always had; but no pie was produced, 
 and he was obliged to be contented without. 
 
 " You needn't say one word, Enoch Higglesey," said 
 the woman after dinner. " I'm going to have this boy 
 to help me, and that's a fact. If I can't have him, I 
 won't work for him." 
 
 " Wall, wall, old woman, take your own way." 
 
 " I reckon I will. I'm going to have some butter 
 out of that cream ; so pull up the churn here, boy, and 
 go at it. We'll give it one more try." 
 
 All the afternoon the boy sat there, churning, churn- 
 ing, as he did the day before. The hours seemed in- 
 terminable, for Mrs. Higglesey scarcely spoke. She 
 was hastening her work, for she saw that Jotham was 
 injuring the clothes he was wearing, and her prudence 
 suggested that they ought immediately to be hung 
 away for church use. In her opinion, such clothes
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 131 
 
 ought never to be worn except on great occasions, 
 such as Sunday services, funerals, or rare visits. 
 
 Jothara looked often at his hands as he churned, 
 for many blisters puffed up in watery tenderness. 
 Some of them broke; and, as the iron-crank chafed 
 them, they reminded the sufferer of their presence 
 continually. But in spite of all their exertions, re- 
 gardless of execrations, and heedless of continued 
 whirling, the cream refused to yield its buttery par- 
 ticles. 
 
 " I never did see anything so mean," Mrs. Higgle- 
 sey said that night, iu despair; though Jotham 
 thought he had greater cause for complaint than she, 
 for his arms were in such pain that he could hardly 
 hold them still. 
 
 "I'll carry the cream to Marston, to-morrow," Mr. 
 Higglesey said. " Don't you want to go up and buy 
 something?" 
 
 " No ; how do you think I can buy when my butter 
 won't come, and my cream must go for half price? 
 You get all you can out of Marston." 
 
 " Don't you worry about that, Betsey. I know how 
 to manage him." 
 
 The next morning, when the four o'clock summons
 
 132 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 awoke the weary workman, he found his new suit 
 ready. 
 
 "It takes me to do things quick," Mrs. Higglesey 
 said, as the boy presented himself in his new attire. 
 " Now you look as though you could work. But I tell 
 you, Enoch, he ought to have some stouter boots." 
 
 " I can't afford to buy boots," replied the man. 
 
 " Well, but you see you'll have to buy some by and 
 by if you let him wear these; 'cause you see, he'll 
 wear them out. Now I tell you, there's a pair of old 
 boots upstairs that got kind of shrunk so you couldn't 
 wear 'em; they'd be just right for him. They're 
 under the eaves up there." 
 
 Mr. Higglesey ascended the back stairs and soon 
 returned with some boots that struck terror into the 
 mind of the expectant wearer. He had accepted the 
 other garments without a murmur, but against these 
 boots he ventured to remonstrate. 
 . " I can't wear them ; I'm sure I can't." 
 
 " Betsey, fetch the tallow," rejoined Mr. Higglesey. 
 " I'll fix 'em so he can wear 'em. They're a little stiff 
 now, that's all." 
 
 "But they are too large," interposed Jotham, dis- 
 tressed at the idea of wearing the huge, clumped 
 things.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 133 
 
 " That's all the better," returned the man, persist- 
 ently warming the tallow; "they won't pinch your 
 feet. There, now, see, when I rub on the tallow they 
 grow soft. That's a good idee, Betsey, getting these 
 down. They'll make a capital pair for barn-work. 
 Put 'em on here, boy, and see h<5w they work." 
 
 Jotham reluctantly drew off his nicely fitting shoes, 
 and the farmer noticed his socks. 
 
 "Just look there, Betsey; his stockings are as fine 
 as silk. What's the use in having such city fixiu's on 
 a farm? They won't last him a week. Haint you 
 got some old, coarse ones of mine ? " 
 
 "Yes, but they'd be too big. He couldn't wear 
 'em." 
 
 Then a sudden thought occurred to her, and she 
 continued, 
 
 " But I know what I can do. I can cut the tops off 
 from some of mine. It takes me to plan, Enoch Hig- 
 glesey. I don't know what you'd do without me." 
 
 Jotham's feet were soon equipped, notwithstanding 
 his remonstrances. The worthy couple seemed to 
 consider his wishes as the last thing to be consulted. 
 Economy and expediency were the main issues. 
 What cared they for the tastes of a boy ! They were 
 mere idle fantasies, too whimsical to be mentioned.
 
 134 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " There," said Mrs. Higglesey, with a shrug of sat- 
 isfaction, " now you look complete. No, you're not 
 quite fixed yet. That cap will just get spoiled if you 
 wear it all the time, and there's an old fur one up- 
 stairs; 'twill make you warm as toast. I'll get it 
 in a minute." 
 
 When she came back with the cap, she brought also 
 a pair of mittens. 
 
 " There, now," she said, as the boy stood complete 
 
 before her, "that's common sense. You look like 
 
 *work. There's no use in having these nice city 
 
 clothes fan-dangling round ; they're good for nothing. 
 
 Good stout stuff is what we ought to wear." 
 
 In truth, Jotham presented a very comical picture as 
 he stood there in his new dress. He seemed like 
 a gem metamorphosed : a man's cowhide boots ; 
 coarse, gray pants; a striped, farmer's frock extend- 
 ing below the knees, broad across the shoulders, 
 because that under it there was a spencer made by 
 cutting off the skirts of a coat ; a fur cap, too loose, 
 into which the head plunged too far; and blue, 
 striped mittens. 
 
 But under this cap there glistened a pair of bold, 
 dark, intelligent eyes; and the handsome, oval face 
 looked like beauty peering between jagged clouds.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 135 
 
 The whiteness of the cheeks was not yet tanned by 
 exposure, nor the expression tamed by long-continued 
 subjection and labor. It was like changing the shell 
 of a nut while the meat remained the same. No one 
 could have known the boy without looking directly 
 into his face ; but a glance there showed that it was 
 Jotham still. Notwithstanding his reversed situation, 
 and in spite of the mortifications he had endured, 
 there was a dauntless defiance in his eye which 
 showed that the spirit within was neither willingly 
 conquered, nor long to be kept in subjection. 
 
 He raised his feet slowly and walked out with the 
 lantern in his hand. The weight of the boots pre- 
 vented the light, elastic step which was his wont; 
 but, as he passed out into the chill, morning air, he 
 was compelled to admit that if his dress was not 
 beautiful, it certainly was more comfortable ; and he 
 understood why the farmer had not complained of the 
 cold when he had suffered so much. The wind could 
 not penetrate through these garments, and that in a 
 measure reconciled him to the change. 
 
 Mr. Higglesey lingered a moment in the house, 
 and his wife expressed her satisfaction. 
 
 "I tell you, Enoch, we've done a good thing. It 
 hasn't cost a single cent to fit him out, and the
 
 136 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 suit we've saved will be good enough to wear to 
 meeting all winter. But there's one thing I don't 
 understand." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Why, I don't see how he came to be off out 
 here alone. There's something queer about it. He 
 don't belong to no poor family. He says these are 
 his oldest clothes, and you see these are real good. 
 And then his manners are so nice! How he bows 
 and says 'thank you,' and how he always adds the 
 'sir' when he speaks to you! He must have a 
 good father and mother, and I don't see how they 
 came to send him out into the country at this 
 time of year, in search of work, without a penny 
 in his pocket." 
 
 "Wall, now, Betsey, I s'pose his father got a 
 little common sense into him, and thought 'twas 
 about time the boy earned his own living, lie 
 didn't want him cooped up to die in the great city ; 
 he thought 'twould be better to send him into the 
 country and let him hunt for himself. Showed his 
 father wan't a fool." 
 
 "But why didn't he give him some money?" 
 continued Mrs. Higglesey with a woman's curiosity.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 137 
 
 " Oh, maybe he did. Likely as not the boy Las 
 spent it. You can't tell." 
 
 "No, I can't tell," she continued; "but it seems 
 queer. I'll quiz him some day, I know." 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey went to her household operations 
 quite contented with the result of her sagacity con- 
 cerning the clothes, but not so well pleased re- 
 specting her cream. She was fretful over that as 
 she poured it from the churn into the jar, and kicked 
 the cat who came to eat the droppings. Nor was 
 she very sweet-tempered at the breakfast table. 
 The loss of two or three dollars on her butter was 
 not to be patiently endured, and, by way of com- 
 pensation, she spoiled her face with a frown, and 
 spoke sharply to her husband. He regarded her 
 little, or answered her in her own style, eating qui- 
 etly, as though used to domestic storms. But to 
 Jotham her manners were very unpleasant. 
 
 "I do wish she was like my grandmother," he 
 thought. " Grandmother's men sit down at the table 
 with her, and she is so smiling and pleasant that 
 she makes them all happy." 
 
 But as he saw that Mr. Higglesey was regard- 
 less of her petulance, he was less annoyed than 
 he would otherwise have been. The strange dress
 
 138 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 which he had been compelled to assume so disfig- 
 ured him that he could hardly recognize himself at 
 the table. The loose frock sleeve dipped into the 
 coflee, the frock itself floundered out on to his plate, 
 and his feet seemed pinned to the floor by the heavy 
 boots. He found, too, that he must eat very fast. 
 Mr. Higglesey could never spare time for ceremo- 
 nies at the table. " Help yourself and get done," 
 was his motto ; and unless Jotham made equal haste, 
 he found Mrs. Higglesey clearing the dishes and 
 food from before his eyes. 
 
 "I can never bear to see a table standing round 
 all day," she muttered, as Jotham lingered to finish 
 his coflee. "It's just a sign of laziness," and the 
 boy understood that henceforth he was expected 
 to leave the table at the same time with his mas- 
 ter. 
 
 "I'm going up town," said Mr. Higglesey, when 
 they were once more at the barn. "You may curry 
 and harness Billy into the single wagon. I'm going 
 to engage my turkeys. It'll be Thanksgiving pretty 
 soon, and they'll sell best then. You must feed 'em 
 up well to-day. The fatter they git, the more 
 they'll bring. Mix up some meal for the oxen, 
 take good care of the cows, feed the sheep, clear
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 109 
 
 the stables, look after the eggs, give Tom a good 
 dressing, shell out some corn so as- to have it ready, 
 feed the pigs, turn the cattle out to water, give 
 the hens some more corn, pull down hay to have 
 it ready for night, get in the woman's wood and 
 water, and then go down cellar and pick over some 
 apples that need it. Betsey'll show you where they 
 are." 
 
 Jotham listened in astonishment. How was he 
 to accomplish all those things in that brief time? 
 for Mr. Higglesey said he should be back before 
 noon. The clearing of the stables alone seemed to 
 him more than he could do ; yet there was no alter- 
 native, and what must be done might as well be 
 done well. He determined to try and please, hoping 
 he should fare better by and by. He was busily 
 engaged at his work, when footsteps arrested his 
 attention, and glancing around he saw a boy of 
 his own age. 
 
 The boy walked through the barn in an indifferent 
 manner, examining boxes, rakes, and hay at his 
 leisure, and scanning Jotham with a curious eye. 
 Jotham watched him but said nothing. The boy 
 looked at him with a wondering smile. Jotham 
 knew that, from his big boots to his fur cap, every-
 
 140 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 thing was passing under investigation, and a crim- 
 son flush overspread his face. He did not want to 
 speak, and "finally turned away, that his features 
 might not be seen. At length the boy drew uear 
 and spoke, 
 
 "Holloa!" 
 
 Jotham replied with the same expression. 
 
 "Are you Higglesey's new boy?" continued the 
 stranger. 
 
 " I suppose so. I'm going to work for him." 
 
 "Well, so father said. He said he saw you here, 
 but, by Jimminy, he described a different fellow from 
 you." 
 
 Jotham blushed. He was deeply mortified, for he 
 knew that the strange boy was amusing himself at 
 his expense. He did not reply for some moments ; 
 then he asked, 
 
 "Was it your father I saw here yesterday?" 
 " I expect it was. He said he saw a plaguy 
 pretty fellow at work here, dressed nice enough to 
 go to meeting, and he guessed you'd have a hard 
 time with old Higglesey. But, Jupiter! you look as 
 though you was a match for the old fellow himself. 
 Where did you get your clothes ? " 
 
 Jotham was displeased, and answered, pertly,
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 141 
 
 " Is that any of your business ? " 
 
 " Why, no, it's none of my business, only you 
 don't look a bit as father described." 
 
 "What if I don't? Tell your father to teach his 
 son better manners." 
 
 "Oh, you're smart!" replied the boy, a little sur- 
 prised at Jotham's bold 're ply. He thought a boy in 
 that garb could be insulted with impunity, but he 
 found that beneath that shaggy cap there was an 
 eye that could flash and a mouth that could speak 
 for itself. 
 
 "Don't be offended," he rejoined, after a moment. 
 " I came down on purpose to see you. My name 
 is Dan Trencher. What is your name ? " 
 
 "Jotham Wilson." 
 
 "Well, we know each other now. Say, how do 
 you like Ma'am Higglesey?" 
 
 "Mrs. Higglesey, do you mean?" replied Jotham. 
 "I like her very well." 
 
 "Pshaw, now," responded the boy. "I know you 
 don't! There never was a man or boy that lived 
 here that liked her. I guess you didn't know 'em 
 or you wouldn't have come. You'll git enough of 
 it before winter's over, I'll warrant."
 
 142 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 At that moment the voice of Mrs. Higglesey was 
 heard, calling, 
 
 "Come, Jotham, hurry round! The water's wait- 
 ing to scald the meal. Don't be all day coming." 
 
 Jotham started for the house, and Dan ran off, 
 laughing. 
 
 "Ha, ha, ha! That's the way you'll have to take 
 it. I'm glad I aint in your shoes no boots, I 
 mean. Jimminy! They're big enough for you and 
 me," and the boy gave the boots a look of laughing 
 scorn.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 143 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 JOTHAM'S THANKSGIVING. 
 
 f AN TRENCHER burst into the kitchen of his 
 own home with a loud laugh, and, as he saw 
 his father, he paused and spoke, 
 
 " Well, father, that's a funny looking fellow you sent 
 me down to see ! You said he looked like a first-rate 
 fellow, and was dressed like a gentleman." 
 
 " So he was," replied Mr. Trencher. " He sat there 
 watching the fires, and I thought to myself, ' Higgle- 
 sey's got a new fellow to operate on. A smart one 
 too.' I declare I pity any boy that gets in there." 
 
 " But, father, he can't be anything or he wouldn't be 
 rigged out in old Higglesey's clothes ; " and then the 
 boy laughed again at the recollection of the ludicrous 
 spectacle Jotham presented. 
 
 " Why, you see, father," he continued, " he had on 
 that old fur cap that Higglesey has worn these twenty 
 years."
 
 144 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 "Twenty years !" interposed Mr. Trencher. "Not 
 quite so long as that, I guess." 
 
 "Yes, it is! I heard Higglesey say so last winter. 
 Well, he had on that cap and a frock cut down, and 
 such a pair of boots ! Oh my ! Such boots ! You 
 ought to see them. Why, there's seventeen patches 
 on them, they are wrinkled and turned up at the toes, 
 and the soles look as though they had been scorched 
 through." 
 
 Again the boy laughed, and his mother replied to 
 
 him, 
 
 i 
 " Probably he's some poor, homeless ooy, wnom 
 
 Mr. Higglesey gets for a trifle. You know he'd never 
 pay anything if he could avoid it." 
 
 " He didn't act nor look like a poor boy when I saw 
 him," replied Mr. Trencher. " He spoke like a gen- 
 tleman." 
 
 " He spoke well enough to me," returned Dan, " and 
 he's got a good face. But he must be a sappy, or 
 he wouldn't wear old Higglesey's clothes. He got 
 a little mad with me because I laughed." 
 
 " Well, you shouldn't laugh at him," observed Mrs. 
 Trencher. " Probably he's some poor boy." 
 
 That afternoon Mrs. Trencher called to see her 
 neighbor, and as they sat together, knitting, they
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 145 
 
 rehearsed to each other the events of the last few 
 days. Mrs. Higglesey gave a full account of her trials 
 in churning, and Mrs. Trencher described her super- 
 human efforts in house-cleaning, preparing for Thanks- 
 giving, and entertaining company. The two women 
 when together, habitually related to each other all 
 their domestic matters, although when separated, 
 Mrs. Trencher declared Mrs. Higglesey was the 
 closest, meanest woman she ever saw, and Mrs. Hig- 
 glesey always insisted that Mrs. Trencher was the 
 greatest brag the world afforded. / 
 
 " She's always telling what she does," Mrs Higgle- 
 sey would say. " It's a pity she couldn't see what / 
 have to do ! " 
 
 But Mrs. Trencher had an advantage over her 
 neighbor in this particular, for she had children, and 
 Mrs. Higglesey had none. Therefore Mrs. Trencher 
 would never for a moment admit that Mrs. Higglesey's 
 labors could equal hers, at which Mrs. Higglesey, 
 desirous of being considered the greatest worker of 
 the neighborhood, was exceedingly tried, and it was 
 with secret satisfaction that she boasted this day 
 of her labors for Jotham. 
 
 " I declare ! " she remarked, her large, brown face 
 expressing complacency, " top of my churning, I 
 10
 
 146 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 had to go and make a suit for our new boy to work 
 in. He came here with just nothing at all but the 
 clothes he had on, and I fixed him out from top 
 to toe." 
 
 A smile lurked in Mrs. Trencher's eye as she 
 thought of the description Dan had given her of 
 this suit, but ere she had time to reply, Jotham came 
 in. He started as he saw a strange woman, and, as 
 he noticed her quick glance taking an inventory of 
 his apparel, his face flushed. He was cold, and had 
 come in hastily, but Mrs. Trencher could not fail 
 of observing what her husband and son had remarked, 
 that he was not an ordinary boy. She noticed that 
 every word he uttered was expressed with grammat- 
 ical accuracy, and when she went home, she declared 
 that it was strange he should be there. 
 
 "He must have a strange father," she said. "No 
 father, who cared for his son, would let him go there 
 to work. But then, to be sure, his father don't know 
 what kind of a place it is, probably, for Mr. Higglesey 
 picked him up in the street." 
 
 " Well," responded Mr. .Trencher, buttoning his coat 
 to go out, "he'll have to work some if he stays 
 there." 
 
 " I reckon he will," replied she. "I'll warrant he
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED 147 
 
 did all that churning she tells about. I know her. 
 She wants to make out that she does as much as I." 
 
 "Well, well," laughed Mr. Trencher, "you women 
 are like honey when you are together, and vinegar 
 when your backs are turned." 
 
 " That is just what the men are," retorted Mrs. 
 Trencher. " You'll talk about Higglesey all day, and 
 then go right down to see him at night, as though he 
 was your brother." 
 
 Mr. Trencher laughed and went out, and his wife, 
 watching, saw that he went to the very house from 
 which she had just come. 
 
 "Talk about women!" she uttered, scornfully. 
 " They are no worse than the men, and I can prove 
 it." 
 
 As the days passed along, Jothara found that his 
 duties increased. Numerous as they were at first, 
 they grew in numbers every day. If Mr. Higglesey 
 failed of keeping him busy, Mrs. Higglesey always had 
 a fund in reserve. Her capacity for inventing work 
 was exhaustless. At a moment's notice she could 
 pfoduce half a dozen different directions in which 
 the boy was needed at once. When work outside 
 failed, there was plenty in the house, and one day, 
 when Dan Trencher came in suddenly, he saw Jotham
 
 148 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 standing beside the kitchen table, with his frock laid 
 one side, his shirt sleeves rolled above his elbow, 
 a large pan before him containing a colander, through 
 which lie was vigorously rubbing a quantity of stewed 
 pumpkin. 
 
 Dan took a seat by the stove and watched the 
 operation. Poor Jotham blushed, and would have 
 crawled through any aperture to escape those fun- 
 loving, eager eyes, and Dan, fully conscious of the 
 effect he was producing, never once ceased looking, 
 till Jotham turned his back fully toward him. Mrs. 
 Higglesey was bustling about with great ostentation, 
 her heavy steps jarring the kitchen floor as she passed 
 from the stove to the table, thence to the pantry and 
 back again. i 
 
 " I've had so much to do," she remarked, apologet- 
 ically, to Dan, as though he were a woman, " I haint 
 got near ready for Thanksgiving, though it comes day 
 after to-morrow. I s'pose your mother's got e'ena- 
 most done her flxin'." 
 
 "Don't know," answered Dan, carelessly, "I don't 
 go into women's matters." 
 
 Jotham's hands rubbed the faster at this sly thrust 
 which he understood as aimed at himself. His nature 
 longed to reply, and to fling itself back upon the boy
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 149 
 
 who dared to taunt his misfortunes ; but Mrs. Higgle- 
 sey was watching, and he continued silently at his 
 work. The woman, however, was a little piqued, and 
 she retorted, 
 
 " Well, 'twouldn't hurt you to know something about 
 your mother's work. Laziness is no good." 
 
 "Who wants to wear out with work? "asked Dan, 
 a smile drawing down the corners of his mouth. 
 
 " It's better to wear out than to rust out," returned 
 the woman, emphatically, bringing down the roller 
 with which she was preparing her pastry. 
 
 " Pshaw ! no ! " answered Dan. " You can't mend 
 an old, worn-out thing, but you can scour off a little 
 rust any time, and it will be as good as new." 
 
 "I never knew laziness come to anything," re- 
 sponded the woman. " I want no lazy folks about me. 
 Eub that a little harder, Jotham. Get all through 
 that you can. Have you sold your turkeys, Dan? " 
 
 "I believe so," answered Dan, carelessly, feigning 
 ignorance purposely to excite Mrs. Higglesey. 
 
 "You believe so!" she answered. "Don't you 
 know ? What'll you be good for when you grow up 
 without you learn something now?" 
 
 " I'll be good to swallow bread and butter," rejoined 
 the boy.
 
 150 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " Yes, I'll warrant you are good at that, now. Boys 
 always are. Here, Jotham, if you've finished that 
 pumpkin, put the leavings in the swill, and bring the 
 choppiug-tray here. I've got to have some apples 
 chopped, and you may as well help." 
 
 " I ought to feed the cows," replied Jotham. " Mr. 
 Higglesey left directions." 
 
 " Well, be spry, I must have you back here soon." 
 
 These few words of Jotharn contrasted strangely 
 with the language of his mistress. Her broad vowels 
 and harsh consonants were little like the smooth ac- 
 cents and polished utterance of the well-bred school- 
 boy. Dan marked the difference, and, in spite of 
 Jotham's humiliating situation and coarse dress, he 
 respected him. He could not fail of perceiving the 
 handsome forehead, the intelligent countenance, and 
 evident superiority of the boy whom he had been 
 ridiculing, and when Jotham spoke with so much 
 propriety to Mrs. Higglesey, Dan forgot the boots in 
 the new respect he suddenly conceived for the young 
 workman. 
 
 " He's no sappy, after all," was his inward exclama- 
 tion, as he took his cap and followed Jotham to the 
 barn. 
 
 "I'm glad that torment's gone!" exclaimed Mrs.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 151 
 
 Higglesey, when Dan had closed the door. "He 
 needn't pretend he doesn't know about his mother's 
 work. He does know, and I know he was watching to 
 see how much shortening I put in my pie-crust, so he 
 might tell her of it. Well, I don't care, I won't put all 
 my lard into my pies when it's selling for twenty-five 
 cents a pound, and that's a fact. There's no need of 
 having pie-crust break off at a touch." 
 
 When Jothain returned, Dan came with him. Boys 
 were scarce in that vicinity, and Dan really longed for 
 a new companion. Anything was better than nothing, 
 he thought, and he was determined to be friendly 
 with this new boy, even though he was obliged to take 
 him in the cast-off clothing of " old Higglesey." 
 
 But as he became acquainted with Jotham he ceased 
 to think of the old clothes, and involuntarily yielded that 
 respect to him which inferiority ever gives to those 
 more advanced. At the barn they had talked quite 
 freely, and Dan was compelled to admit that Joiham 
 was no " sappy." There was nothing he could mention 
 in connection with boys' plays of which Jotham was 
 ignorant. Indeed, he soon found himself a learner. 
 Jotham could name things of which he had never 
 heard, and he began 'to feel that standing in old, 
 wrinkled boots, though twice too large, was no in-
 
 152 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 jury to the head. He followed the working-boy from 
 place to place in the barn, and not an insult escaped 
 his lips. 
 
 " I should be dreadful lonely here," he remarked, as 
 they were going back into the house. 
 
 Jotham did not reply, but hastened into the kitchen, 
 where the presence of Mrs. Higglesey prevented 
 farther conversation. Here Jotham chopped and 
 chopped the apple destined for the mince pies, while 
 Dan sat by with his feet on the stove-hearth, wonder- 
 ing how many teeth would be broken by eating Mrs. 
 Higglesey's pastry. He laughingly said this to his 
 mother when he went home, declaring that Mrs. Hig- 
 glesey used just one thimbleful of shortening to every 
 ten pies. 
 
 " Tight old thing ! " he said, " I know I'd run away 
 before I'd work for her." 
 
 "I don't believe she works so terrible hard," re- 
 sponded Mrs. Trencher. " I do more in a week than 
 she'd do in a fortnight. What's that suit of clothes 
 she made for the new boy ? Only old clothes cut off. 
 Anybody could fix them in half an hour. But there, I 
 oughtn't to talk about my neighbors." 
 
 Dan was accustomed to this expression. From his 
 
 % 
 earliest youth he had heard it. When visitors were at
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 153 
 
 the house, and his mother had retailed her budget of 
 gossip, she invariably added, " But there, I oughtn't to 
 talk about my neighbors ; " and Dan considered the 
 sentence as a species of expiatory utterance by which 
 his mother cancelled her sin of scandal. He supposed 
 it quite right to tear an inoffensive person to tatters, 
 if only at the end this sentence was added. 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey was glad when Dan was gone. She 
 immediately despatched Jotham in various directions 
 for necessary articles, at intervals sending him to the 
 barn, thus by her prudent and thorough care, keeping 
 everything in order during the absence of her husband 
 who had gone with a load of the finest turkeys the 
 neighborhood could produce. 
 
 Mr. Higglesey returned with an empty wagon but a 
 full pocket. 
 
 " There's no mistake about our turkeys," he said to 
 his wife, clapping his hands on his full pocket-book. 
 " They were solid fellows, I tell ye. I got five dollars 
 more than I expected." 
 
 The woman's eyes glittered with delight, and, as 
 Mr. Higglesey and Jotham sat down to dinner, she 
 actually placed one of her Thanksgiving pies upon the 
 table. It was hot, and though not rich, yet to the 
 hungry boy it was more delicious than anything he had
 
 154 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 eaten since he had been there ; and he secretly wished 
 Mr. Higglesey could make five dollars every day, if it 
 would so expand her heart. 
 
 The killing and dressing of the turkeys had been a 
 long and tedious task, and, as soon as dinner was over, 
 they prepared for another equally great. Seventy-five 
 chickens were brought into the kitchen, not all at 
 once, but rapidly as they could be disposed of. Every 
 moment until late in the evening they worked, 
 scarcely giving time for the usual duties of the farm, 
 and at four the next morning they began again. Be- 
 fore noon Mr. Higglesey was gone with another load, 
 and his wife was quite good-natured, as she usually 
 was when money was coming in. 
 
 At last Thanksgiving dawned slowly upon the ex- 
 pectant families. Tardily the portals of dawn opened ; 
 for clouds cold and gray overspread the heavens, and 
 the gates of the east did not unfold to admit the rosy 
 streaks of early light. The chariot of the sun mount- 
 ed the sky behind a draperied curtain, and day there- 
 fore came in heavily and dull. Jotham missed the 
 four o'clock rap, but he noted its absence with glad- 
 ness. It was a luxury to lie quietly and rest. He 
 did not sleep, but closed his eyes in a half doze, and 
 busy thoughts occupied him.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 155 
 
 Home and its familiar scenes came to him. He 
 remembered Low often he and Annette had planned 
 for Thanksgiving; how they had hoped that grand- 
 father and grandmother would come to them this 
 year; and he wondered whether they would come. 
 Would they all be there together? He could almost 
 see his grandfather, so jolly and kind, and grand- 
 mother, so loving and gentle. What would they think 
 of him, the truant? He would be ashamed ever to 
 see them again. In the midst of this reverie gray 
 dawn forced her way slowly through the window, 
 and the summons came from the foot of the stairs. 
 The boy jumped from the bed, and there was no 
 more time for thought. 
 
 "Fly round!" said Mr. Higglesey, as Jotham en- 
 tered the kitchen. " We've laid abed just a leetle too 
 late. We'll have to work fast. Take the pails out 
 with you. We'll do the milking up in a hurry." 
 
 The routine of the morning work had become fa- 
 miliar to the incipient farmer, and he went through 
 it with a rapidity that surprised Mr. Higglesey. 
 
 "You'll make a workman yet," he said, as he came 
 around where Jotham was pulling down hay with 
 rapid strokes. " Your father'll be proud of you." 
 
 Something like a shiver ran through the boy's
 
 156 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 frame at this remark, and he thought, if Mr. Hig- 
 glesey only knew the circumstances, how differently 
 he would think! But he said nothing. He dared 
 not tell that he had run away from a good home, 
 lest the old farmer should send him back again, and 
 he could not go back. He could not meet the cen- 
 sures that would fall upon him at home, nor the con- 
 tempt of his acquaintances, who he knew would 
 despise him. 
 
 " "We'll go to church to-day," continued Mr. Hig- 
 glesey. " The woman, she never goes Thanksgiving 
 day, 'cause there's so many flxin's to do. So fly 
 round, and you may drive Tom. Should you like 
 to drive?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed, I should," answered Jotham, his eyes 
 brightening. It was the first real pleasure that had 
 come to him since he left his home. 
 
 How he rubbed Tom that morning! Every hair 
 on his body was smoothed into place, and the best 
 harness was made ready to put upon him. Then he 
 went in and saw that it was Thanksgiving indeed. 
 Fried chicken was smoking upon the table, with toast 
 and pies. Besides, there was a white damask cloth 
 whose iron folds glistened just as his mother's used 
 to glisten at home. Tears almost came into his eyes,
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 157 
 
 tears of regret for the home now lost, and of joy 
 at the sight of so nice a breakfast here. But if the 
 table was changed, Mrs. Higglesey was not. She had 
 become disturbed by her unusual preparations for 
 breakfast, and was very irritable. If she gave thanks 
 by preparing nice food, she certainly had not prepared 
 her heart for an acceptable offering. 
 
 " I've been waiting this half hour," was her salu- 
 tation when they entered the room. "Everything 
 \ 
 
 is stone cold. Didn't you hear me call you?" 
 
 " Wall, we couldn't come any sooner," replied Mr. 
 Higgll-sey, going to the tea-kettle with a wash-basin 
 in his hands. 
 
 "That's a likely story," replied the woman. "Two 
 of you couldn't get through out there, and I here all 
 alone have done all this. "What would you do if you 
 was in my place? I reckon you'd have to step quick. 
 But men never do know how much a woman does. 
 I don't know where you'd be, Enoch Higglesey, if 
 'twasn't for me." 
 
 " There's plenty of others," replied Mr. Higglesey, 
 as he and Jotham wiped their hands upon the same 
 towel. 
 
 Mrs- Higglesey's old eyes snapped, but she did 
 not reply. Notwithstanding her scolding, she had
 
 158 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 been busily engaged in placing the chairs and getting 
 her coffee, which was real coffee this morning, in- 
 stead of barley, as usual. 
 
 The breakfast seemed delicious to Jotham, and. 
 contrary to Mrs. Higglesey's custom, she pressed him 
 to eat. She did not watch his plate lest he should 
 get upon it one mouthful too much; but she actu- 
 ally loaded it with good things. 
 
 " We're going to meetin'," said Mr. Higglesey, as 
 they rose from the table. "I s'pose you can git 
 along alone, Betsey." 
 
 " I s'pose I generally have to," she answered, 
 roughly. " As I said before, I don't know what you'd 
 do without me to take care of things here." 
 
 " And, as I said before, there are plenty of others," 
 replied the man, curtly. 
 
 " You needn't tell me that again, Enoch Higglesey. 
 There's precious few that do as I do ; " and with a 
 broad sweep she passed around the table to gather 
 up the dishes, in doing which a cup fell from her 
 hand to the floor. 
 
 "As ill luck would have it," she muttered, looking 
 down at the fragments. " There's so much gone 
 now."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 159 
 
 " It's your own fault," replied Mr. Higglesey. " You 
 was too cross to keep straight." 
 
 " Well, I reckon I shall be crosser before I'm bet- 
 ter," she answered. 
 
 Jotham hoped in his heart that he should be out of 
 the way if she grew any more irritated, and he 
 hastily went out. 
 
 "Now," said Mr. Higglesey, "hurry up. We've no 
 time to lose. We must git in so as to put on our 
 tother clothes." 
 
 Jotham's heavy boots clumped about with hasty 
 steps, for he was anxious to show Mr. Higglesey how 
 well he could drive Tom, and "besides, he was sure 
 it would be a luxury to put on his own clothes once 
 more. Never was work accomplished sooner, and 
 before it was time to go, the ardent boy was dressed 
 and waiting. Then Tom came out, holding up his 
 head, and dancing in high glee. 
 
 "You're the fellow for me," said Jotham, rubbing 
 Lid glossy side. " We'll have a gay old time to-day, 
 that we will." 
 
 The boy was in high spirits. His own clothes had 
 partially restored him to himself, and a horse always 
 excited his imagination, carrying him away on vision-
 
 160 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 ary wings. He drove skilfully, and Mr. Higglesey 
 was quite delighted. 
 
 "You're a smarter boy than I thought," he said. 
 "I guess I must keep you." 
 
 Several men were before the church-door when 
 Jotham came up with a manly step. He had become 
 so elated by driving and curbing Tom that he had 
 almost forgotten the cloud that rested over him, and 
 went into church with his natural gait. His head 
 was erect, his brown hair thrown carelessly back from 
 his white forehead, his cheeks were flushed with 
 animation, and many inquiring eyes were turned 
 toward him. 
 
 He had noticed Dan Trencher on the steps as he 
 passed, and tipped his hat. Dan stared in surprise. 
 
 " What kind of a boy can this be? " he asked him- 
 self. "My! Jimminyl What a bow that was! And 
 what a step he has ! I should think he was a gentle- 
 man. How can he wear those old clothes, and look 
 so like a clown?" 
 
 Dan puzzled his head during church-service over 
 this strange acquaintance ; and "many honest farmers' 
 boys and girls wondered what handsome boy Mr. 
 Higglesey had in his pew. Jotham was quite happy ; 
 and yet he was not happy, . for all the time his
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 161 
 
 thoughts were reverting to his own church at home. 
 When he saw the smiling faces of the young girls, he 
 was reminded of Annette, and guilty shame oppressed 
 him. He wished himself back by her side, wished he 
 could look in her clear eyes, and hear her say, " I 
 forgive you." 
 
 When he reached home again, dinner was waiting. 
 Mrs. Higglesey had done her best, and the food was 
 so different from their ordinary coarse fare, that the 
 boy secretly wished Thanksgiving might last through 
 the year. But when dinner was over, work came 
 back. 
 
 " Take off your nice clothes," said Mr. Higglesey. 
 " It just spoils good clothes to wear them at home." 
 
 Jotham obeyed reluctantly. He dreaded going 
 back to that coarse suit. He seemed not like him- 
 self in such apparel; but there was no alternative. 
 Mr. Higglesey had a stern manner not easily resisted. 
 The day ended with work, but something of the brief 
 happiness lingered within him. He remembered the 
 church-service, and that one hour of respite from dull 
 toil was like a ray of sunshine amidst clouds. 
 11
 
 162 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CHOPPING AND ITS EFFECTS 
 
 Mr. Higglesey's family, Thanksgiving carried 
 none of its relaxation into the following days. 
 Jotham hoped for a little reprieve, but he 
 found only renewed rigor. New kinds of work 
 seemed to be invented. Tools were to be repaired 
 and laid away for the summer; stones were to be 
 piled up in the fields before the coming of snow. A 
 few fields were ploughed, and Jotham walked beside 
 the oxen in his frock and heavy boots, back and forth 
 over the long furrows, till he was weary and ready to 
 faint. 
 
 "I wish snow would come," he said to Dan, in one 
 of their private talks. 
 
 " So do I," replied Dan. "I want to skate and go 
 sleigh-riding." 
 
 " And I want to rest," replied Jotham. " If snow 
 would co-.no 'twould stop all this out-door work "
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 163 
 
 " Not much will you rest though," answered Dau. 
 " I tell you, I never knew Higglesey let a fellow rest." 
 
 "But what can we do after snow comes? The 
 barn doesn't take all day." 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you. You'll have to cut wood down 
 over the hill there ; real tough trees they are ; scrub 
 oak and chestnut. Your arms will ache, or my name's 
 not Dan Trencher." 
 
 " Cut trees ! " repeated Jotham. " I don't believe I 
 can." 
 
 " You'll have to try as quick as the snow comes, I 
 can tell you," returned Dan. 
 
 Jotham longed no more for the snow. He was sure 
 that cutting trees would be harder than pumping 
 water, or chopping pumpkins, or even milking, which 
 was his terror. He remembered how, like Dan, he 
 had delighted in snow. He could think of the snow- 
 men he had made, of the snowballs, of the coasting, 
 and skating ; but now it was only work, work. When 
 he went out one morning and found the earth draped 
 in her mantle of white, instead of running about to 
 make tracks, he walked solemnly along, thinking only 
 of the trees to be cut, and of his own weariness. 
 Before breakfast was over, he found the truth of 
 Dan's prediction.
 
 164 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " Betsey," said Mr. Higglesey, " put some victuals 
 into a tin pail. "We are going down to the woods, 
 and we'll want a little dinner. You can give the cows 
 their noon fodderiu." 
 
 "I reckon I can," she answered; "I've done it this 
 many a year." 
 
 " Got some doughnuts? " asked the man. 
 
 "No, I haint. You're always after doughnuts, and 
 it costs as much to make 'em as it costs to make cake. 
 I can't afford it." 
 
 "Wall, what can we carry?" 
 
 " Why, there's some cold baked beans." 
 
 "Wall, what else?" 
 
 " There's bread and cheese." 
 
 " Wall, haint you got a mince pie? " 
 
 "Oh, I can't spare one of them. I put 'em a\vay 
 after Thanksgiving, and they've got to last all winter. 
 There's your sister Sally, she'll be here some day; 
 and cousin John's folks, and, like as not, the minis- 
 ter ; he always does come every winter, and 'twon't 
 do to be out of pies." 
 
 " Wall, wall," said the man, " give us something. 
 Anything'll do. Come, Jotham, let's go to the barn 
 and finish up." 
 
 If Jotham had not been tired with unceasing work,
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 165 
 
 the "woods would have seemed to him romantic that 
 day. The light snow rested on the boughs, festoon- 
 ing them with fantastic wreaths ; the birds, who had 
 sheltered themselves beneath the branches, started at 
 the sound of human footsteps, and tiny tracks be- 
 trayed the course of some small animal who had 
 crossed the snow in pursuit of his morning meal. 
 True it was cold, but, notwithstanding, there was a 
 wild- wood beauty charming to the unaccustomed boy. 
 
 But Mr. Higglesey saw no rural beauties. He ex- 
 amined the trees with a view to their utility, remarked 
 that this one was old and might as well be cut down ; 
 that one was in the way of others and hindered their 
 growth; there was a pile of brush that had lain all 
 summer, and here was some undergrowth must be 
 cleared out. All this time Jotham was looking up 
 at the interlacing branches of the tall oaks, or com- 
 paring together the various kinds of small trees. In 
 one place a small pine had sprung up; in another, a 
 spruce ; but, chiefly, he saw they were oaks and chest- 
 nuts, those lovers of our northern soil. 
 
 Into one of these, tough and gnarly, Mr. Higglesey 
 struck his axe, commanding Jotham to do the same. 
 They stood on opposite sides of the tree, and tried to 
 strike their blows in even strokes; but Jotham was
 
 1C6 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 irregular. His arms were not muscular and strong. 
 He could not send forward his axe with a blow that 
 would sink into the living tree. 
 
 "Sink your axe deeper," said Mr. Higglesey; and 
 Jotham tried, but in vain. He had not sufficient 
 strength. 
 
 " Wall, wall," exclaimed Mr. Higglesey, trying to 
 be patient, " you'll learn after a while. Can't expect 
 a green hand to know everything at first. Come, 
 we'll change sides." 
 
 Jotham soon grew very tired. His limbs ached, 
 his heart beat fast, the blood rushed to his head, 
 his arms seemed scarcely able to wield the axe ; but 
 there was no pause. No sooner had the great tree 
 fallen staggeringly to the ground, than Mr. Higgle- 
 sey ordered an attack upon its limbs. Beautiful 
 branches, upon which nature had lavished her most 
 artistic fancies, were lopped by the shining steel, and 
 their tender branchlets were strewed upon the 
 ground, to mingle once more with the elements 
 from which they were made. 
 
 Jotham proved more efficient in this part of the 
 labor. He could sever the small limbs, and soon 
 quite a pile lay on the snow before him. 
 
 " That's right," said Mr. Higglesey, glancing at
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 167 
 
 him. "You'll make a chopper. Of course you'll get 
 tired. There's no use in minding that. It's the 
 natural effect. You'll toughen." 
 
 "It appears to me I'll die in toughening," said 
 Jotham, growing desperate and venturing to speak. 
 
 " Pshaw ! No, you won't. All boys think so. Keep 
 at it. You'll come out right yet." 
 
 When noon came they sat down on a log and ate 
 their cold baked beans, with the brown bread and 
 cheese. Chopping made good appetites, and the 
 coarse fare disappeared with rapidity. Then the 
 axes were resumed and the work proceeded. Jotham 
 thought of the fairy stories he had read, and he 
 wished some dear little " brownie " would come 
 with a golden axe that would cut all the trees at 
 once. Several times a slight rustling in the branches 
 caused him to look earnestly, almost hoping some 
 bright little face would be seen, bringing magical 
 aid. But then, suddenly recollecting that fairies 
 only helped good boys and girls, he resumed his 
 work in despair, feeling that no fairy would ever come 
 to him, except to reprove. 
 
 That night he had a new dish for supper. He had 
 often read of it as very common in olden times, but 
 now he found that bean-porridge was Mr. Higgle-
 
 168 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 sey's usual supper on his return from the woods. 
 As Jotham w*s eating it, he could not help repeating 
 to himself, 
 
 " Bean-porridge hot, bean-porridge cold, 
 Bean-porridge best when it's nine days old." 
 
 "Well," said he to himself, "it is hot, and it 
 tastes good. I'll eat it and go to bed. I was never 
 so tired in my life." 
 
 He did not wait to see Mr. Higglesey hold his 
 pipe in the oven-mouth, but went to his bed the 
 moment the work was finished. He had never been 
 allowed a light since the first night he was there, 
 so there was no inducement to sit in his chamber. 
 He hastened into bed, but not to sleep. How could 
 he sleep when every limb was in pain? Over and 
 over he turned, but still the pain racked him, till he 
 groaned from actual misery. 
 
 Then he thought of his mother. He remembered 
 how tenderly she had bathed his head when some 
 slight cold had caused a trifling illness at home. 
 He thought of Annette's careful watching, aud of 
 his grandmother's judicious care. But now no one 
 asked, "Are you tired? Are you ill?" No voice 
 of love cheered him amid his sufferings. When at 
 last he fell asleep, he scarcely rested. Fevered
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 169 
 
 throbs rushed through his system and his brain 
 seemed burning. 
 
 At four o'clock came that thundering rap. 
 
 "Oh, dear!" groaned the boy, turning in agony. 
 "Why can't that old man keep still sometimes?" 
 What is lie made of? Can he work forever and 
 ever?" 
 
 With temples burning, eyes aching, and stiffened 
 limbs, he arose. When he descended the stairs, he 
 stumbled, and came down into the kitchen with the 
 gait of one stiff with rheumatism. 
 
 "Hurry up!" said Mr. Higglesey, "Hurry up! 
 We must git into the woods early this morning. 
 Pump up the water the first thing, then do the 
 milking. I'll be feeding the cattle." 
 
 As the work went on, the boy's weariness grad- 
 ually decreased. His energies roused and the stiff- 
 ness of his limbs relaxed, for the morning's pump- 
 ing always threw the perspiration upon his brow; 
 nor was he much relieved by the milking. 
 
 Three days he followed this course : In the 
 woods all day, and hastening the morning and 
 evening duties at home. The third night found 
 him in despair. He lay on his bed and wept in 
 misery, longing for a friend, for one loving heart
 
 170 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 to bestow its sympathy, for just one to whom he 
 could look for protection and help. 
 
 "I will go home," he said to himself. "Yes, I 
 will go home. Surely they will take me back 
 again. But oh, I can't go home to-night! Oh, 
 how my head aches! Is there no one to whom I 
 can look ? " 
 
 Some little remembrance came to him, some 
 thought of the past, and a voice from the echoes 
 of his heart whispered a verse he once learned to 
 repeat in Sabbath school: "Call upon the Lord 
 while he is near." But he quickly thrust the 
 thought one side, murmuring, 
 
 " No, no, it is not for me to call upon God. I 
 am too wicked. He would not hear me. No, no, I 
 cannot pray. I broke my promise to my grand- 
 mother. I told her I would try to pray ; but I broke 
 my promise. Oh, dear! I am so tired I cannot lie 
 still. And I am so cold ! But my head is on fire ! 
 And it aches so! Oh, dear! What shall I do? If 
 the Lord would hear me I would pray ; for what else 
 can I do?" 
 
 The boy was really too ill to sleep that night. 
 Standing on the cold snow in the woods, and chop- 
 ping vigorously all day, had produced a fever in
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 171 
 
 his delicately reared system. All night he tossed 
 and thought. It seemed to him that one touch of 
 his mother's hand upon his brow would soothe 
 him to sleep, and many times he said, " I will go 
 home. Yes, I will go home." 
 
 Promptly as the clock struck four, Mr. Higglesey 
 was upon his feet, and his first movement was to 
 thump ponderously on the chamber-door. Jotham 
 raised his head, but such a terrible pain came in it, 
 such a snapping, that he thought the very bones 
 were cracking, and he dropped again upon the pil- 
 low. Then a shiver crawled through his bones, 
 and a deathly sickness pervaded his central being. 
 
 " Get up, here," called Mr. Higglesey, directly, 
 thrusting his head half way up the stairs. " Get 
 up, I say." 
 
 Again Jotham raised his head, but it fell back as 
 though struck by unseen hands, and he thought 
 some terrible crash was the result. He answered with 
 a groan. 
 
 "Why don't you wake up?" called Mr. Higgle- 
 sey, ascending another stair. 
 
 "Oh, I can't get up!" answered the boy. "I 
 can't. My head is bursting right off."
 
 172 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 "Pshaw! You'll feel better after a minute. Come 
 down and stir round a little." 
 
 "I can't, Mr. Higglesey; I can't lift my head." 
 
 " Oh, fudge I Come down. Betsey'll make you a 
 cup of sage tea." 
 
 Once more he raised his head, but it fell back, and 
 pressing his hands tightly upon his forehead, he 
 answered, 
 
 "I can't come, I would if I could. I'm dying. 
 Oh, dear! my head is worse and worse." 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey heard this colloquy, and it struck 
 her woman's heart. Much as the beautiful had been 
 driven from her soul by the love of money, there was 
 yet left a little tenderness. The tones of an invalid 
 always called her nature into sympathy with the suf- 
 ferer. She was not in favor of doctors, for they were 
 expensive ; but her garret was full of roots and herbs, 
 and she could steam, poultice, and blister with as 
 much sagacity as the most practised nurse. Indeed, 
 she was very proud of her skill in the healing art, and 
 never lost an opportunity of displaying it. She called 
 to Mr. Higglesey now, 
 
 "Let the boy alone. It's likely he has taken cold. 
 I'll fetch him out of it by and by." 
 
 The farmer descended the stairs, and went out
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 173 
 
 alone. But his work proceeded slowly. He missed 
 the quick steps and ready assistance of his young 
 workman, and he began to wonder how he ever ac- 
 complished so many things alone. When he caine 
 in to breakfast, his first question was for Jotham. 
 
 " What ! aint he up yet? " 
 
 "No, he aint," answered the woman; "and more'u 
 that, he won't be to-day. He's got a fever upon him ; 
 I can tell." 
 
 "Pshaw!" responded the man. "It's only a boy's 
 fever, I reckon. He don't .want to work, that's all. 
 I saw yesterday that he lagged a little. Get him 
 down to breakfast, and he'll do well enough." 
 
 "Now I tell you, Enoch Higglesey, I've seen sick 
 people before now. There's Mrs. Trencher, much as 
 she brags, always sends for me when her boys are 
 sick; and Aunt Mary Minot sent clear down from 
 the village after me, 'cause she wouldn't have a 
 doctor." 
 
 "Wall, what of it?" 
 
 "What of it, Enoch Higglesey? Why, it shows 
 that I know, and I tell you the boy is feverish ; and 
 as long as I am Betsey Higglesey, whatever else 
 people say of me, they shall never say I neglected 
 the sick. I shall give him a sweat."
 
 174 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 Mr. Higglesey saw that there would be no change 
 in her decision, and he quietly submitted, remark- 
 ing, 
 
 "Women always will have their own way." 
 
 The morning was cloudy, and daylight revealed a 
 few flakes of snow, foretelling a storm. This helped 
 to pacify the farmer's feelings, for he saw that, if 
 Jotham was well, the weather would be unsuitable 
 for chopping. His fertile invention immediately sug- 
 gested another way of using the day profitably. 
 
 "I'll jest carry up a load of potatoes to Mars- 
 ton," he mused. "Maybe the price'll fall by and by, 
 and the sooner I carry them the better. But I de- 
 clare, I wish the boy was well enough to help load 'cm. 
 I'm tired now. That pumping e'enamost broke my 
 arms. I haint pumped a mite before since the boy 
 has been here." 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey paid little heed to her husband that 
 morning. She was in her desired element, and the 
 stove was soon covered with hot bricks and bowls of 
 herb tea. Mustard poultices were prepared for the 
 feet, the bricks were steamed with vinegar, and every 
 preparation was made for a thorough sweating of the 
 invalid. Her manners lost their roughness. Her 
 house-work even became secondary. When she came
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 175 
 
 into the low chamber, she spoke tenderly as a mother 
 to her son. Jotham looked up at her in surprise. 
 Her kind words fell upon his ear with a soothing 
 sound. 
 
 "Does your head ache just as much as it did, 
 Jotham ? " she asked, bending over him. 
 " Oh, yes, ma'am ! it aches more and more." 
 "Poor boy! "she responded, touching his forehead 
 with her hand. 
 
 Her palm was broad and rough with much labor, 
 but she touched the. brow so lightly that it gave the 
 sufferer an exquisite pleasure. It seemed like his 
 mother's hand. 
 
 " Poor boy ! " she repeated. " How hot your head 
 is ! I'll bathe it with cold water." 
 
 But the cold water produced little effect. The 
 fevered head absorbed it and ached still. 
 
 "I must draw the heat downward," said the wo- 
 man. "I must give you a powerful sweat." 
 
 Then came the steamed bricks and the hot drinks. 
 All day her care of him was unremitting ; but the fe- 
 ver was obstinate. The unceasing toil of the past 
 weeks, and the secret anxiety which had preyed upon 
 him, had exhausted his system of its vital energies, 
 and it was very difficult for him to rally. But in
 
 176 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 proportion as the fever defied the nurse, her energies 
 roused to meet it, and she racked her brain for rem- 
 edies. Mr. Higglesey sold his potatoes, and returned 
 with the money in his purse. 
 
 " So the boy don't get well?" he asked, as he came 
 in and saw the array of bowls and cups on the stove 
 and table. 
 
 " Speak lower, Enoch, do. Your voice goes right 
 upstairs, and it'll rack his head worse'n 'tis now." 
 
 " Wall, wall," returned the man, softly, " cure him 
 if you can. I don't want the neighbors to say I've 
 killed another boy." 
 
 He went out with careful steps, remembering many 
 summers ago, in the briskness of the haying season, 
 when a fair-haired youth sickened and died at his 
 house, and his neighbors accused him of overwork- 
 ing the child. 
 
 " No, no," he said to himself, as he went to the 
 barn, " 111 not say a word to Betsey. Let her take 
 her own way." 
 
 All night Mrs. Higglesey continued with her patient. 
 She watched for the hours of fever, and she watched 
 for the chills, combating each as it came, determined 
 not to relax her efforts till sleep should quiet the dis- 
 tracted boy. But the clock struck four ere slumber
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. Ill 
 
 closed his lids, and this was the hour of her husband's 
 rising. She heard his steps in the kitchen, and went 
 down. 
 
 "Now, Enoch Higglesey, don't yon make a breath 
 of noise. The boy's asleep, and I'm going to sleep a 
 little myself. It's no matter about breakfast. I'll pat 
 the coffee-pot on the stove, and you can git yourself 
 something. This house must be still." 
 
 Mr. Higglesey went out, and the wearied nurse, 
 going into her room, dropped upon the bed, leaving 
 the doors open between herself and patient, that she 
 might hear the first sound. 
 
 " I guess I'll break up the fever," she said to herself. 
 "As Enoch says, 'twould be awful to have him die." 
 
 As daylight came softly stealing, the invalid awoke 
 and groaned. His nurse rushed upstairs; yet though 
 she went so quickly, she paused at the door, and, 
 going to the bed quietly, stooped and looked in her 
 patient's face. 
 
 4i How do you feel, my boy?" 
 
 "Oh, dear! I want to go home." 
 
 "Do you? But you can't, you know. You're too 
 sick. But if you don't get better, we'll send for your 
 mother. What street does she live on in the city?" 
 12
 
 178 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 "Oh, don't send for my mother!" he exclaimed, 
 staring. "Don't send for her here." 
 
 " Well, well," answered the woman, startled at his 
 earnestness, and wondering what special objection 
 he could have to her plan. " Don't worry ! You'll 
 go home, sometime." 
 
 Jotham lay quietly. The pain in his head was a 
 little less severe, but still it ached, and he was weak. 
 His broad-faced nurse smoothed his pillow, wiped 
 his brow, his cheeks, and his lips, and stooped over 
 him so tenderly, that he thought it could not be 
 Mrs. Higglesey. 
 
 " How good you are ! " he said, in a faint voice, 
 as she bathed his limp hand. 
 
 The words went to her heart, and a faint streak 
 of love glimmered there. She looked in the bright 
 eyes, now so weary, stroked back the chestnut hair, 
 and remembered long years ago when a little child 
 lay in her arms and breathed away its infant life. 
 It was a little boy, and she wondered whether, if it 
 had lived, it would have been as handsome and as 
 bright as Jotham. Then a tear stole from her eye 
 and the sick boy noticed it. 
 
 "Are you very tired?" he asked. 
 
 "No, Jotham, not very. Why do you ask?"
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 179 
 
 "You have been up all night with me," he added, 
 " and you weep." 
 
 She put up her hand and brushed away the tear. 
 
 " There, Jotham, never mind. I had a little boy, 
 once. That's all." 
 
 "And did he die?" asked Jotham, looking anx- 
 iously in her face. 
 
 " Yes, he died. If he had lived, maybe he would 
 have been some like you." 
 
 " Oh, not like me ! " he answered. " I am not 
 good." 
 
 She smiled a little. "That's what we all say, my 
 boy. Good people are never willing to acknowledge 
 their goodness. They feel so kind o' humble like, 
 you know. That's what our minister says. Should 
 you like to see our minister, some day ? " 
 
 "Yes'm." 
 
 "Well, he'll be down here soon. He comes once 
 every winter. He'll like to talk with you, 'cause 
 you talk so much grammar, and know so much. 
 You shall have on your own good clothes, when he 
 comes; there I declare, I'll tell Enoch so! I wish 
 you was my own boy, I do." 
 
 She went downstairs directly, and Jotham closed 
 his aching eyelids and pondered upon what she had
 
 180 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 said. ' It seemed to him that she was another 
 woman. He could not believe her mercenary, hard 
 disposition could be so softened. But when she 
 came back again, still kind, bearing in her hand a 
 soothing drink, he looked at her again, and he saw 
 it was really Mrs. Higglesey. 
 
 "I will always love you," he murmured, as she 
 held the cup to his lips. 
 
 " I hope so," she answered, gently. 
 
 When she went downstairs, she carried her soft- 
 ened mood with her, but her husband gave it little 
 attention. He had seen her by the bed of sickness 
 before, and he knew she was always a changed 
 woman at such times. He did not try to read be- 
 low the surface, nor seek to find the gold which 
 must be somewhere hidden in such a nature.
 
 TSE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 181 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADOWS. 
 
 
 
 [AY after day Mrs. Higglesey nursed and 
 watched, until the invalid was once more 
 able to come downstairs. Then she brought 
 her best rocking-chair into the kitchen, put pillows 
 into it, and bolstered up her patient before the 
 warm kitchen fire. She even produced a chicken, 
 which had been frozen to keep for company, and 
 from this she made a nourishing broth. Sometimes 
 she talked, at others she went silently about her 
 work, while Jotham leaned back his head, closed 
 his eyes, and thought. 
 
 There was much in his thoughts to give him pain, 
 and yet he was not wholly unhappy, for he had 
 found a new friend, and her kindness penetrated 
 his heart. He revolved again his idea of going 
 home, but now there was mingled a reluctance to 
 leave the good woman who had so befriended him.
 
 182 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 It seemed ungrateful to go from her just as she had 
 raised him from a terrible illness, and he said to him- 
 self, "No, I'll not go yet. It would be wrong. 
 Besides, I have no money to go with, and I cannot 
 walk so far on the snow. I am not strong." 
 
 Nourishing food and care soon restored him again, 
 and he was once more able to go out ; but Mrs. Hig- 
 glesey would not allow him to be called at four 
 o'clock, nor would she consent that he should chop 
 again in the woods. 
 
 "Wall, the fact is," said Mr. Higglesey, "the boy 
 must do something. I can't afford to board and 
 clothe him for nothing." 
 
 " Let him draw the wood to the door, then," 
 remonstrated the woman. 
 
 Mr. Higglesey thought a moment. " "Wall, wall, I 
 suppose it must be so; but it's mighty hard on me 
 to do all the chopping, myself." 
 
 However, he submitted to the decision of his wife, 
 and, taking Jotham out, instructed him in the art of 
 managing the oxen. Then, patiently, every day Jo- 
 thara drove to the woods, loaded his sled, and 
 brought the wood to the door. If the oxen proved 
 refractory, refusing to turn as he wanted them, Mrs. 
 Higglesey came out and assisted him. She could
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 183 
 
 take the long stick, and, wielding it over the heads 
 of the oxen, could turn and direct them with as 
 much skill as her husband. 
 
 Many, many times were the boy's feet weary with 
 carrying those heavy boots across the snow, keep- 
 ing his even pace beside the oxen. His clothes, too 
 though warm, seemed uncomfortable. He did wish 
 Mrs. Higglesey's heart would so far expand that she 
 would give him a new suit, but he soon found that 
 such wishes were vain. She would not have given 
 them to an own son. She would have thought it a 
 sin and an extravagance. 
 
 " Coarse clothes to work in," was her motto ; and 
 upon this principle she acted. On Sundays, both 
 she and Mr. Higglesey came out in very comely 
 apparel, but the moment they reached home, this 
 was laid one side, and the working clothes were 
 resumed. Therefore, though she had continued her 
 kindness to Jotham since his illness, he still wore 
 the economical suit. Often he was ashamed. Some- 
 times men came to the barn on business, and the 
 boy's cheeks flushed as he saw their eyes examining 
 curiously his garments. He wanted to creep out 
 of sight. 
 
 He had come up to the house one day with a load
 
 184 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 of wood. The sun was shining pleasantly, and the 
 snow was melting in the paths. As he had walked 
 by the oxen, he had been obliged to step into the 
 water, which, in some places, was not very clean, 
 and his clothes were splashed even to his frock. 
 Besides, the clear rays from the father of light beat 
 upon his fur cap until drops of perspiration trickled 
 from his forehead. Just as he reached the door- 
 yard, a sleigh came from the opposite direction 
 and turned swiftly into the yard. One glance told 
 Jotham it was the minister. 
 
 There was a lady and a little girl in the sleigh, and 
 as they paused before the door, Jotham's natural 
 politeness prompted him to go to their assistance, 
 but instantly a consciousness of his unfltness to ap- 
 pear before them held him back, and he endeavored 
 to hide behind the oxen as though not aware of 
 their approach. But Mrs. Higglesey came to the 
 door with her broad working apron and her sleeves 
 rolled to the elbow. She was proud of her con- 
 dition. She considered it an honor to be buried in 
 work; nevertheless, her reverence for her minister 
 and his wife compelled her to make some apologies. 
 
 "Never mind, Sister Higglesey," said the minis- 
 ter, smiling, and laying his coat one side. "We ex-
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 185 
 
 pected to find you at work. Don't trouble yourself 
 on our account. We can sit right here with you." 
 
 But Mrs. Higglesey would not permit that. Jotham 
 was called. 
 
 " Make a fire in the parlor just as quick as you 
 can," she said, meeting him at the door, and whis- 
 pering in his ear. " Then put up the minister's horse 
 and the oxen. Then go change your clothes and 
 come in." 
 
 " But Mr. Higglesey expects me back to the woods," 
 he answered. 
 
 "Let him expect, then. I can't help it. The fact 
 is, I want you to go into the parlor. You can talk 
 grammar, and they will like to talk with you while 
 I am getting supper. I tell ^ou it's an awful job to 
 get supper for such folks." 
 
 Jotham very gladly obeyed her instructions. He 
 hastened to his chamber and pulled off the detested 
 clothes, and when he came into the parlor with his 
 own suit, and his neatly-fitting shoes, in which he 
 stepped so softly, while his hair thrown back revealed 
 his fair forehead and bright eyes, he seemed like a 
 gem in that house of labor. The minister arose to 
 greet him as Mrs. Higglesey introduced him in her 
 quaint way.
 
 186 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " Mr. Tracy," she said, " this is our work-boy, 
 Jotham Wilson. And this is Mrs. Tracy, and this 
 is their daughter Amelia." 
 
 They all arose, almost in surprise. It was not 
 often they met one of so gentlemanly bearing in 
 their visits at these rural homes, and Mrs. Higgle- 
 sey was very proud. She saw at a glance the re- 
 spect his manners had inspired, and she mused 
 inwardly, "See what it is to be a gentleman! 
 Everybody knows it as quick as they see one. La! 
 I don't see how it's done. I couldn't be a lady if I 
 should try." 
 
 She sat awhile with her visitors, and then she 
 
 went out to commence the great preparations for 
 
 
 supper. Mince and apple pies were brought from 
 
 the store-room, doughnuts, cakes of various kinds, 
 an immense chicken pie, and two or three kinds of 
 preserves, kept only for these state occasions, were 
 brought before the fire. Then the great table must 
 be spread, the china must come from the parlor 
 closet, for which purpose the woman bustled back 
 apd forth, stopping to speak to her guests by the 
 way. She continued her work quite contentedly, 
 for she saw that Jotham was exerting his powers 
 to please, and that even Amelia was quite interested.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 187 
 
 " That's what 'tis to have a gentleman in the 
 family," she said to herself. "Well, it's handy, any 
 way." 
 
 When she returned to the kitchen with a tray full 
 of dishes, she found Mr. Higglesey there, full of 
 wrath. 
 
 "So the minister is here, is he?" Why didn't 
 you send the boy down to tell me? A pretty time 
 this for me to git here ! Where's the boy ? " 
 
 " lie's in the parlor, Enoch Higglesey." 
 
 "Iii the parlor! Wall! If that aint a new place 
 to put a working-boy! Why didn't he unload that 
 wood ? " 
 
 "'Cause I wanted him in the parlor. You don't 
 kuovv anything about it, Enoch Higglesey. You 
 think I can git all this supper and talk in the par- 
 lor at the same time; but I can't, and I've got 
 Jotham in there. He can talk grammar as well as 
 the minister, and I heard him telling all about a 
 book, or some such thing, and the minister was lis- 
 tening, and the minister's wife was asking questions, 
 and even little Amelia had drawn her cricket close 
 to his side and was looking in his face as though 
 she thought there was never anybody as pretty."
 
 188 fHE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 "Pshaw!" ejaculated Mr. Higglesey. "I want the 
 boy to help me." 
 
 " Well, you can't have him." 
 
 Mr. Higglesey went to the barn a little out of 
 temper, and Jotham still remained to entertain the 
 guests. He might have been very happy but for 
 that continual weight which hung upon his spirits, 
 and that fear lest by some accident his home and 
 the causes of his leaving should be discovered. 
 Once this afternoon he came near betraying himself. 
 Mr. Tracy suddenly asked, 
 
 "On what street does your father live? I know 
 something of the city." 
 
 Jotham colored and hesitated. Then he answered 
 
 with prevarication, " B ; " he was about to say, 
 
 " B street," but instantly he changed it and re- 
 plied, " B place, sir." 
 
 Now, as it chanced, there was just such a place 
 in the city. It bore the same name as the pretty 
 street in the suburbs, on which his own home was 
 situated ; but, unlike his street, it was the haunt of 
 all that was vile and low. He saw his mistake 
 the moment he had spoken, but the words had passed 
 his lips and he could not recall them. How meanly 
 he felt! How low he sunk in his own estimation!
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 189 
 
 It seemed as though another step had been taken 
 from the path of rectitude. He had denied his own 
 birthplace, and had assigned his place amidst the 
 base and the degraded outcasts. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Tracy glanced at each other, not 
 because they doubted his word, but they knew the 
 character of this place, and they wondered how so 
 fair a flower should ever grow up in its midst. 
 There was a slight check to the conversation, until 
 Mr. Higglesey came in and changed the current of 
 thought; but still Jotham could not forget, and he 
 despised himself. On their way home the minister 
 and his wife talked of the boy. 
 
 "Is it possible?" they asked each other. "Could 
 a boy of his appearance be brought up in that 
 miserable place? Then indeed we may never de- 
 spair of any place." 
 
 "I pitied him so, papa," said Amelia. "When 
 you asked him where he lived, how he blushed and 
 stammered! I suppose he was ashamed to tell." 
 
 "I noticed it, my dear," replied Mr. Tracy. "I 
 was sorry I asked him. "We must do something 
 for him. I hope Mr. Higglesey will permit him to 
 come to the Sabbath school." 
 
 "Won't they let him come to the party, next
 
 190 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 week?" asked Amelia. "I am sure he would be 
 as pretty as any boy there will be." 
 
 "That's a good idea," returned Mr. Tracy. "I'll 
 speak to Mr. Higglesey about it." 
 
 Jotham was not happy that night. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " he sighed ; " what must they think of 
 me? To come from such a miserable place! What 
 made me say it? Why didn't I tell the truth? All 
 this because I ran away from home in disgrace. Oh, 
 dear ! what shall I do ? I did think I would go home 
 again, but I never can. I grow worse and worse. It 
 is just as Annette used to say : ' Crooked paths lead 
 into trouble.' And I have been going in them till I 
 cannot find a straight one." 
 
 But Mrs. Higglesey's feelings were far different. 
 She expatiated' on the advantages of having such a 
 boy, and of her own shrewdness in securing him. 
 
 "If it hadn't been for me, Enoch Higglesey, you 
 never'd had him. Just think how I contrived up his 
 clothes." 
 
 "I wonder who was cross when I brought him 
 home," returned the man, sarcastically. 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey did not reply ; but feigning exces- 
 sive weariness was soon lost in the land of that for-
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 191 
 
 getflilness which restores the weary, and revives the 
 faint. 
 
 The next morning, life was resumed in that home 
 of labor with double diligence. The loss of the 
 previous afternoon must be atoned for. Jotham was 
 now pretty well again, and Mrs. Higglesey relaxed 
 her tenderness. Her craving for money, and her un- 
 ceasing industry asserted their usual sway as soon as 
 her patient was well again. There was so much to 
 do, she always reasoned in excuse, when the possi- 
 bility of over- work suggested itself. 
 
 But though she allowed Jotham to work again, 
 there was a bond established between herself and the 
 boy not easily broken. She loved him as much as she 
 could love anything aside from gain. Many little 
 cakes, and turnovers, and choice bits, made their way 
 to him when he came in tired and hungry. 
 
 " There, don't tell Enoch," she would say. " He's a 
 great, strong man ; he don't need such things." 
 
 These little tit-bits were a great blessing to the boy, 
 whose delicate organs of digestion had never been 
 accustomed to coarse food; and every time that he 
 received such a favor, his heart swelled with gratitude 
 toward the woman who yet carried so much good-
 
 192 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 ness beneath the roughness caused by untoward cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 Winter pressed on. Snow-storms showered their 
 fleeces upon the earth, blockading houses, barns, and 
 roads. Those were hard days for the lad, when, with 
 a shovel he made paths to the road, paths to the 
 carriage-house, where the sleighs were stored, paths 
 to the barn, to the corn-barn, to the hennery, and 
 around the house, till the place seemed a network of 
 snowy by-ways. There were many weary nights, 
 many hours of toil, and many disciplines to which the 
 truant submitted, while only earthly light afforded 
 him comfort, and that was the affection Mrs. Higgle- 
 sey retained for him. Even in the midst of his labors 
 he could see that with her nature, such as it was, she 
 loved him. 
 
 He might have had some other pleasures, but from 
 his dread of mingling among the people. Many men 
 there went often to the city, and he feared lest by 
 some means his circumstances should become known. 
 This fear and the untruth to Mr. Tracy dampened his 
 happiness in the little party to which Amelia insisted 
 he should be invited. It was her birthday ; and Mrs. 
 Higglesey, proud that Jotham had been honored by
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 193 
 
 an invitation, insisted that Mr. Higglesey should take 
 him up in the sleigh, and wait for his return. 
 
 "What shall I do all the evening?" asked the old 
 man, who was seldom from home after dark. 
 
 "Do, Enoch Higglesey? Why, go to the store and 
 stay, and smoke, and talk, as other men do." 
 
 "But I don't see any use in the boy's going." 
 
 " Of course you don't ; men never do see such 
 things. But I see, and I reckon Mrs. Trencher*d see 
 the use, if her Dan could get an invitation from 
 Amelia Tracy. She's the prettiest girl in all the town ; 
 and Dan Trencher can't go to her parties. He can't 
 hold a candle to our Jotham." 
 
 "Our Jotham!" sneered Mr. Higglesey. "You 
 talk as though he was ours." 
 
 She did not reply. There was something deep in 
 her nature that was never disclosed to her husband. 
 She could not tell him, that while the boy lay burning 
 on his sick-bed, she had remembered her own child 
 that passed away long ago, and that lived to her now 
 only in imagination. She could not tell her husband 
 that this boy seemed to her like her own, for she 
 feared he would only laugh and say it was a woman's 
 whim. Therefore, she turned away, only adding, 
 " Well, he must go to the party, that's certain." 
 13
 
 194 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 i 
 
 Mr. Higglesey had been somewhat touched with the 
 same pride as his wife, for never before had a boy in 
 their vicinity been invited to so select a place, and lie 
 finally consented to his wife's plan. He spent a very 
 comfortable evening in the village store, listening 
 to the gossip of the villagers who strolled in. He 
 carried home so much news that it required several 
 evenings at the oven's mouth to retail it to Betsey 
 in its different parcels. Not only could he tell all 
 that happened in the town during the past months, 
 but all that was to come, often saying, " I'm glad 
 I went." 
 
 To Jotham the evening was home-like, except 
 that when he went to those pleasant gatherings at 
 home with Annette, he carried a light and happy 
 heart. But now his conscience was oppressed, and 
 all pleasures seemed tinged with sadness. 
 
 Amelia paid him especial attention. She seemed 
 to feel a missionary interest in him. She had found 
 him in a place that appeared so little in harmony 
 with his nature, that her young Christian sympa- 
 thies warmed toward him. She told her young 
 friends that he was from the city, but forbore to 
 
 name "B place," lest that might prejudice them 
 
 against him. By Mr. and Mrs. Tracy he was re-
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 195 
 
 ceived with the utmost respect, and, being thus 
 favorably introduced, he met with a cordial wel- 
 come from all. Before the evening closed he had 
 formed quite a circle of acquaintances. 
 
 Many simple amusements had been planned for 
 the evening, in all of which he could participate, 
 besides being able to introduce some not known 
 to the others. Then when Amelia played, he could 
 stand by and turn her music, and could join in the 
 songs which he had often sung with Annette, at 
 home. Mr. Tracy invited him to the Sabbath 
 school, and before the evening was over he had 
 nearly forgotten the clouds which hung over him. 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey was delighted with the result of 
 the party. When he told her who was there, she 
 shook her head in exultation, repeatedly interrupting 
 him, by saying, 
 
 "The very first young people in town, Jotham. 
 Yes, I tell you, they belong to the real aristocracy. 
 That's pretty tall for you, I reckon. Well, if I do 
 say it, Enoch Higglesey's got money in the bauk, 
 and folks know it. If he had a mind to he could 
 do well by you; but I s'pose he Avouldn't. Not yet, 
 but sometime, maybe. If you are a good boy and 
 live with us a long time, there's no knowing what
 
 196 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 might happen. "We've got neither chick nor child, 
 and I've worked hard to help earn what there is 
 here. I reckon I've a right to say what shall be 
 done with it, and sometime I shall tell Enoch Hig- 
 glesey. I'm sure we couldn't have a son we'd be 
 prouder of than you, and when the time comes, I 
 shall say so. You might as well have what there 
 is here, as anybody. You're a good boy." 
 
 "No, I'm not good," answered he, emphati- 
 cally; thoughts rushing into his mind with over- 
 powering force. 
 
 She smiled as though his reply was but a common 
 expression, such as men are wont to use lest people 
 think them proud of their own merits. 
 
 " "Well, well," she said, " we'll see. Fill up my 
 wood-box now, and bring me a pail of water." 
 
 Jotham considered the hints she had given him, 
 and he could allow them but one construction. She 
 wanted to adopt him. This surely must be her 
 meaning, but instinctively he shrank from it. 
 Although she was so kind, yet he had one mother 
 now, a dear lady -like mother whose heart he knew 
 was breaking, and to whom he longed to return. 
 Besides, this life of unceasing labor was very wear- 
 ing to him. He had neither strength nor taste for
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 197 
 
 it. Yet he did not like to pain the honest woman 
 who was doing for him the best she knew. 
 
 Dan Trencher heard of the party and came to 
 see Jotham the next day. He found him in his 
 striped frock and fur cap pumping for the mid-day 
 watering. 
 
 " Jimminy ! " called Dan, rushing up to him. " Put- 
 ting into the mark, aren't you? Getting aristocratic 
 too ? That beats me ! One of old Higglesey's boys 
 invited with the big-bugs! The gracious! But 
 say, how on earth do you stand it here? Every- 
 body said you wouldn't stay with old Enoch, and 
 we thought so too." 
 
 Jotham was not in mood to hear this. Whatever 
 his patrons might be, he felt indebted to them. He 
 saw that they were not malicious, ugly people. In- 
 deed, he doubted whether they were so depraved as 
 the very people who slandered them, and he an- 
 swered, tartly, 
 
 "You ought to be ashamed, Dan, to speak so of 
 old people. I don't want your pity. I can take care 
 of myself." 
 
 " Oh, well," responded Dan, " you're smart, I see, 
 if you do stand in old Higglesey's boots." 
 
 "Come," answered Jotham, "don't make a fool
 
 198 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 of yourself. Maybe you think it's smart to twit a 
 fellow of what he wears. Maybe you think the 
 brains lie in the heels, but mine are in my head, 
 and the boots do not injure them." 
 
 There was a snap in Jotham's eye that warned 
 Dan against trespassing too far upon his temper, 
 and he began to talk of other subjects. He wanted 
 to know about the party, but he would not ask, 
 and as Jotham was not communicative, he went 
 home as ignorant as he came. 
 
 " I don't care anything about it," he said to his 
 mother when she asked him what he heard. 
 
 "But didn't he tell you who was there?" 
 
 "I didn't ask him. A pretty looking thing he is 
 to go to parties. They ought to see him as he 
 looks there at the barn. I reckon they wouldn't 
 ask him again. Ask him, indeed ! " and the boy's 
 face wreathed itself into scorn. 
 
 "For my part," said Mrs. Trencher, "there's 
 something about that boy I don't understand. He 
 has the airs and manners of a gentleman; but lie 
 can't be anything to go round in that rig working 
 like a slave every day. There's something rotten 
 in Denmark, as the saying is, and I don't care any- 
 thing about them."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 199 
 
 But notwithstanding this assertion, Mrs. Trencher 
 called upon her neighbor the next day, and went 
 home again more contented. Mrs. Higglesey had 
 very joyfully given her a history of the party, as 
 far as was possible, and Mrs. Trencher was satis- 
 fled ; for next to mingling in society is the gratifica- 
 tion of getting the particulars of those who do. 
 
 Thus, with mingled shadows and light, the winter 
 wore away. The snow began to melt. There was 
 no more chopping in the woods, but the immense 
 pile at the door must be 'prepared and packed into 
 the shed for future use. Day by day and hour by 
 hour Jotham and Mr. Higglesey stood upon the pile, 
 while their axes echoed in the spring air. Rivulets 
 ran where the masses of snow had lain, a mild 
 fragrance was borne on the breeze, the cattle 
 chewed their cuds contentedly where the warm sun 
 shone, the fowls sung their spring-time songs, and 
 the lambs skipped merrily. 
 
 Even Jotham revived under the genial influences, 
 and Mr. Higglesey was often surprised by his ring- 
 ing laugh, or keen sallies of wit. But night invari- 
 ably brought its despondency, and while his head 
 was on his pillow, remorse stung him like a ser- 
 pent. There were so many recollections to make
 
 200 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 him unhappy, that he knew not how to be at peace. 
 When thoughts of home failed, the vision of the 
 honest Joseph rose to his mind, the boy who lost 
 his place, because he, the truant, was dishonest. 
 He often wished he knew whether he found a place, 
 or whether his poor\ mother was suffering because 
 her boy had lost his reputation. 
 
 Many were the secret tears that little chamber 
 witnessed, and often he attempted to pray, but was 
 rebuked by conscience, and ceased. How he longed 
 for one confiding friend, just one, to whom he could 
 open his whole soul, to whom he could reveal the 
 very depths of his iniquity! He did not want a 
 friend of the world, but one who knew God and 
 Christ, and who could tell him whether there might 
 be forgiveness and restoration. Sometimes he 
 thought of Mr. Tracy, and half resolved to go to 
 him; but then he shrank from it lest Amelia should 
 know, and he thought it would be a double dis- 
 grace to be humiliated in her estimation.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 201 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 HOPE LOST. 
 
 'HIS is a terrible storm," said Harry Wilson, 
 stamping his feet and shaking the snow from 
 his cap. " It's tough down on the coast. Mr. 
 Thompson has lost a lot of goods. The vessel bring- 
 ing them was wrecked down on the light-house rocks." 
 
 "Did the crew escape?" asked Mrs. Wilson, her 
 face turning pale and her voice trembling. 
 
 Harry's voice softened, for he saw in a moment the 
 thoughts of his mother. 
 
 "Yes, mother, they all escaped. They sent out a 
 boat from the light-house and picked up all the , 
 men. There were only eight. I don't believe Jo- 
 tham was one of them." 
 
 " He must be somewhere," answered the mother. 
 " My heart sinks with waiting. I thought I should 
 hear from him before this time. I thought he would 
 write."
 
 202 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " I suppose he is ashamed to write," replied Harry. 
 
 "Poor boy!" responded the mother. "If I could 
 but clasp my arms about him ! He was always good 
 to me. It was bad companions led him astray." 
 
 "I think he led himself astray," returned Harry. 
 " Why don't bad boys lead me ? " 
 
 " Oh, you have a different temperament, Harry ! " 
 
 " Well, I'm glad I have. I think Jotham was 
 very mean to go off in this way." 
 
 " But you don't know how he felt," interposed 
 Annette, sitting in a rocking-chair, pale and sad. 
 " He told me that night when I found him behind 
 the rock. He said he was ashamed to meet his ac- 
 quaintances, and that father hated him. I wish fa- 
 ther hadn't been so severe with him." 
 
 Annette sighed, and Mrs. Wilson looked from the 
 window with a glance of despair; for the wind blew, 
 and the storm increased. 
 
 "I can't help worrying," she remarked. "Every 
 night, when the cold winds blow, I lie in my bed and 
 wonder where my handsome boy is. I wonder wheth- 
 er he has a protection from the storm. I long to know 
 whether he has food, or whether, in fact, he is alive. 
 If he would come home, like the prodigal son, how 
 gladly he would be received!"
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 203 
 
 " I don't know," replied Harry. " Father would 
 have something to say, I think. You know father 
 says, ' Let him stay away till he can behave himself 
 at home.'" 
 
 "Yes, Harry, I know he says so; but lately, I see 
 his feelings are more tender. His resentment is 
 abated, and the natural love which he cannot sup- 
 press is subduing his anger. I think he would be 
 far more lenient now than when Jotham first went 
 away. I know that he thinks of him often, by day 
 and by night. He watches every vessel that goes 
 out or comes in. He goes to them and Inquires who 
 are the men that are on them." 
 
 " That doesn't do any good," answered Harry. 
 " Maybe he has gone to Europe, or some other dis- 
 tant country. You know, if he has gone on a vessel, 
 he must go where that does, if he is ever so home- 
 sick." 
 
 "Yes, I know," responded the mother, wiping the 
 tears from her eyes. 
 
 Harry changed the subject of conversation. He did 
 not like to see his mother weep. But though he won 
 her to speak of other things, her thoughts still re- 
 mained with her absent boy. The storm increased; 
 snow filled the air; the wind piped in the chimney;
 
 204 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 and at every fresh gust the mother thought of the 
 cordage of the ships, the flapping sails, the heaving 
 billows, and trembled for the boy she believed to 
 be at sea. 
 
 Little more was said of him that day ; but the house 
 had a sadness in it, for the thoughts of each were 
 wandering in undefined dread, fearing, trembling, yet 
 striving to hope for the absent one. Even Mr. Wil- 
 son appeared dejected that night. He was beginning 
 to despair of the return of the truant; and when 
 at the midnight hour he listened to the howl of the 
 tempest, the spirit of repentance came over him. 
 
 "I wish," he said, "I do wish I had tried another 
 method with Jotham. When I command Harry he 
 obeys, but Jotham had a different disposition. I hap- 
 pened to-day to be reading the report of a school- 
 teacher; and he spoke of the necessity of using differ- 
 ent methods of government and instruction with dif- 
 ferent children. He said many scholars could be won 
 by love who could not by driven by severity. I 
 thought of Jotham immediately; and I felt almost 
 sure that if I had tried love instead of coercion I 
 might have been successful. He must have been 
 desperate when he determined to go to sea. He had 
 not a nature for such a life of hardship, although he
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 205 
 
 was bold and defiant. His tastes were refined by 
 nature ; and if these boys had not possessed an out- 
 ward show of good-breeding, they could not have 
 seduced him." 
 
 " You would not scold him now, if he should come 
 home, would you?" asked Mrs. Wilson. 
 
 "I don't know," he hesitatingly answered. "I do 
 not feel just as I did about it. I have thought no 
 punishment could be too severe for him; but I am 
 not sure. I may have been wrong in my ideas." 
 
 Mrs. Wilson inwardly thanked God. She saw that 
 Jotham's absence was producing an effect upon his 
 father's mind, which neither entreaties nor reasoning 
 could have accomplished, and it removed from her 
 one anxiety. She felt that, if the truant should re- 
 turn, he would be received with forbearance; and 
 now, more than before, she longed to hear his foot- 
 steps and to see his face. 
 
 But the winter passed without any intelligence 
 from him, and spring brought no tidings. Annette 
 was quite recovered, and once more resumed her stud- 
 ies ; but her happy cheerfulness could not come back. 
 There was ever a weight on her spirits, a shadow 
 in her heart. Something was wanting. A glad voice 
 was silent, a cheerful step was missing. When she
 
 206 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 played and sang there was a chord broken in the mel- 
 ody, one part was voiceless. Little reminiscences 
 were lying about speaking mutely of the absent; a 
 ball which it had been his delight to toss in the air ; 
 a book, the gift of a friend; a cap partly worn; a 
 pair of gloves ; a slate, with examples half done ; a 
 pencil with a point of polished roundness; a scrap 
 of writing, all these were silent memorials, and each 
 was husbanded with zealous care. 
 
 Grandfather and grandmother wrote often, for they 
 could not believe Jotham would be long absent. 
 
 " And yet, I know," said grandmother, " if he has 
 gone to sea, he cannot come back till his vessel 
 comes; so we must be patient, and hope for the 
 best." 
 
 " I reckon a sea-voyage will do him good," grand- 
 father responded. "He needed discipline, and he 
 will get it there. Some of his braggadocio will 
 come out of him, I fancy." 
 
 " But he was a good boy, after all," returned grand- 
 mother. "He was bold and generous." 
 
 " He had an undisciplined confidence in himself," 
 replied grandfather. " He wanted to show off. This 
 was why he fell a victim to bad boys. He must
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 207 
 
 needs try to do as they did, because he thought it 
 was smart." 
 
 " Ah, well ! " said grandmother, " Poor boy ! I 
 hope he will come back again." 
 
 And still the days rolled on, bringing no tidings, 
 bearing no hope save that dormant one which would 
 not be crushed. The snows of winter disappeared, 
 the song of the birds trilled in the balmy air, even 
 the city brightened ; but most of all the fresh coun- 
 try prepared for her adorning. The buds expanded, 
 the grass sprang from the earth, joy breathed on the 
 gales, and life awoke from its stupidity. 
 
 But if spring brings quickening and joys to a rural 
 people, it also brings labors. Innumerable duties 
 crowd at once. In doors and out the hum of in- 
 dustry sings its multitudinous calls. Farmers rise 
 early and toil late, for the earth invites them to 
 open her pores with the ploughshares and deposit 
 in the furrows the seeds which shall bring forth 
 fruit for man and beast. 
 
 Jotham, in his country home, watched these phe- 
 nomena with increasing interest. He had seen farms, 
 hitheito, only in the summer when they were decked 
 in their fullest livery ; but now he saw their barren- 
 ness, and observed how day by day, the new growth
 
 208 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 was struggling to cover them once more with 
 nature's beauties. He would have delighted in the 
 spring-time revel if he could have found time. The 
 little calves frisked on the tender grass, the lambs 
 skipped, and he, too, would have leaped and frolicked 
 but for work. 
 
 He thought he had been busy all winter; but now 
 he found that winter had been but a play-time. 
 There seemed no pause, no cessation now. Eating 
 was accomplished in haste, sleep was diminished, 
 and from morning till night it was dig and toil, toil 
 and dig. Even Dan Trencher was obliged to work 
 now, so that he came less often to see the strange 
 boy at Higglesey's, who attracted and repelled, at 
 once. Everybody was at work. Only on the Sab- 
 bath did neighbors pause to congregate, and then it 
 is possible labor was in their thoughts. Certainly 
 it was in their conversation as they waited around 
 the church doors during noon recess. 
 
 " That's a smart boy o' yourn," said a man to Mr. 
 Higglesey. The two were standing beneath the 
 sheds eating the dinner their wives had put in their 
 pockets. 
 
 " That's a fact, deacon," replied Mr. Higglesey. 
 "I never saw a better."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 209 
 
 "What do 3 r ou pay him?" asked the deacon, 
 drawing a little nearer, as though on the Sabbath 
 business should be spoken in an undertone. 
 
 " Wall, deacon," replied Mr. Higglesey, observing 
 the movement, " the fact is, I haven't made much 
 of a bargain with him yet. I shall do as well by him 
 as anybody would." 
 
 "Yes, hem," responded the deacon; "well, I was 
 talking with the boy a few minutes ago. He's just 
 what I should like, and if you " 
 
 "Hold on," cried Mr. Higglesey. " There's no use 
 in talking, Deacon Tuttle. I can't spare the boy, 
 no way, and my wife why, she just sets her life 
 by him." 
 
 "Oh, well," returned the deacon, "I don't want 
 to be unfair, any way, but I thought maybe I could 
 pay more " 
 
 " There, don't speak of it," interposed Mr. Hig- 
 glesey. "I can pay as much as any man, I reckon." 
 
 The deacon said no more, but Mr. Higglesey went 
 home disquieted and narrated the conversation to 
 his wife at the earliest opportunity. 
 
 "You see just how 'tis, Betsey," he said to his 
 wife. "All our little plan is spoiled. I've got to pay 
 the boy a good price, or lose him. He'll find out he 
 U
 
 210 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 can get more, and he'll be off. I reckon I'd better 
 make a bargain with him." 
 
 " If you'd only do as I want you to," returned the 
 woman, " you wouldn't have to pay anything." 
 
 "What? Take him for my boy, and tell him he 
 may have all there is here when I'm done with it 
 if he'll only live with us. I don't know about that. 
 I guess 'twould cost about as much as 'twould to 
 pay him by the month." 
 
 " But you could never have a better boy to work 
 than he is. He never flinches from anything, and 
 'twould be a good thing to have a boy of our own. 
 We're growing old." 
 
 "Wall, wall, pshaw! Women are always full of 
 their nonsense. I'm going to make a bargain wUh 
 him. I'll give him enough to cut off the deacon's 
 chance of getting him." 
 
 The next day Mr. Higglesey had a long talk with 
 Jotham. He described to him the advantages of 
 being prudent; told him how boys grew rich by 
 saving as much as by earning ; and finally with a 
 great flourish, offered him a certain sum if he would 
 stay with him till fall. 
 
 "You see," he said, "this is the best thing you 
 can do. You won't need to use much money this
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED, 211 
 
 summer, and when fall comes, you will have a nice 
 little sum." 
 
 " But," said Jotham, " Deacon Tuttle spoke to me, 
 yesterday, and he offered me more than you have." 
 
 " Wall, wall, then. I'll give you more. I'll give 
 you as much as he will, and you won't have to work 
 any harder, either. The deacon's a hard master, if 
 I do say it. I'll pay you all at once, next fall, and 
 you can carry it home to your father. I'll let you 
 ride down to the city some day and see your folks." 
 
 "No, no," answered Jotham, looking up with a 
 start; "I don't want to go." 
 
 " Don't want to go? Well, that is strange. Shall 
 I call and tell them ? " 
 
 " No, no ! " responded the boy, still more terrified. 
 
 Mr. Higglesey couldn't understand this refusal. 
 It indicated something wrong, and that night, after 
 Jotham had gone to his room, while the pipe was 
 in the oven-flue, he expressed his opinion. 
 
 " Betsey, there's something wrong about this 
 boy." 
 
 "What's the matter now, Enoch Higglesey?" 
 
 "Well, Betsey, why don't he want to go home? 
 or why don't he want me to go there sometime 
 when I'm down to the city with my marketing?"
 
 212 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 11 Maybe he's ashamed of his folks, Enoch. You 
 know B place is veiy low." 
 
 " No, Betsey, there's some other reason. I'm 
 going to find his folks the very next time I go 
 down." 
 
 It was a week after this that Mr. Higglesey 
 loaded his wagon with market produce, harnessed 
 his two horses, and at two o'clock in the morning 
 started upon his ride. Not a word did he hint to 
 the boy whom he had called up to assist him, but 
 he told Betsey he should never come home till he 
 
 had found B place, and had some news to bring 
 
 back. 
 
 Night came, but not Mr. Higglesey. Jotham grew 
 anxious, watching the roads continually, but Mrs. 
 Higglesey seemed quite at her ease. She assisted 
 in milking, finished her evening household duties, 
 and then with her knitting sat down by the open 
 door in the warm twilight. Jotham took a seat on 
 the low stone step. The heavy winter clothes had 
 given place to a simple pair of overalls, and the fur 
 cap had been exchanged for an ancient straw hat 
 left at the house by some former workman. Mrs. 
 Higglesey boasted to Mrs. Trencher that the boy 
 hadn't cost them a single cent of " real money," yet.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 213 
 
 Jotham sat before the prudent woman now, tired 
 with his day's work, but with anxiety on his face. 
 
 "I'm afraid he is tipped over, Mrs. Higglesey," 
 he said, as twilight deepened into darkness, and 
 no horses appeared in view. 
 
 "I guess not," she answered. "Enoch Higglesey 
 knows how to manage his horses. I never could see 
 how he was so careless that night you came here." 
 
 " But something might happen, Mrs. Higglesey." 
 
 "La, don't you worry, boy. He had business in 
 the city." 
 
 She closed her lips with a grip, as though the 
 business was too important to be told, and Jotham, 
 leaning against the house, closed his eyes in weari- 
 ness. Presently the woman spoke again. 
 
 "There'll be plenty of work to do, pretty soon," 
 she said. "Another man next week. A smart one 
 too. He'll make work fly. Then hay-titne'll come 
 by and by, and then there'll be three or four men. 
 Besides, I'm going to board the teacher this sum- 
 mer." 
 
 Jotham listened in a sleepy mood. He cared little 
 what they did. He saw nothing in the life he was 
 living but weariness and pain. Since the spring 
 opened, there bad been no rest, and many nights
 
 214 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 his frame quivered from exhaustion. Mrs. Higgle- 
 sey seemed not to understand him, although she 
 meant to be kind. She had seemed to change since 
 the summer labors had commenced. The effects of 
 the boy's illness had faded from her mind, and she 
 had resumed her former imperious manner. Noth- 
 ing was too hard for her to undertake if a little 
 money was to be gained, and the more numerous 
 were her cares, the more her energies rose to meet 
 them. Then everybody was pressed into service. 
 Feelings were nothing. How to do the most in the 
 smallest space of time was the grand problem. 
 Love sunk under the pressure, and was crowded 
 out of sight. In a word, she drove, and the family 
 team went before her at a swift pace. 
 
 Sometimes Jothajn became utterly discouraged. 
 He could see no end to his toils. He was weary at 
 night, and weary in the morning, yet he felt bound 
 to the woman by a tie of gratitude. Her kindness 
 while he was sick he could not forget, and he saw 
 that she loved him now. Often some sudden act of 
 kindness showed him her heart, fettered though it 
 was by worldly gain. 
 
 An hour passed this night, while she knit by the 
 light of the rising moon, and he dozed, longing for
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 215 
 
 his bed. Then came the sound of horses, and pres- 
 ently Mr. Higglesey drove into the yard. There 
 was a strangeness in his manner. He said little, 
 but when Jotham had gone to his chamber, he ex- 
 claimed, suddenly, "Betsey, the boy has lied. He's 
 got no folks there." 
 
 "I don't believe it, Enoch Higglesey. I don't be- 
 lieve Jotham would tell a lie. You missed 'em some 
 way." 
 
 "How could I miss 'em? I went down to B 
 
 place, and I inquired of everybody there. It's an 
 awful place. Ragged children, disconsolate old peo- 
 ple, haggard women, and ugly men. I went into 
 holes of misery, and I asked everybody. I don't be- 
 lieve he ever lived there. How could such a fellow 
 as he come out of that place ? I know he never did. 
 He has lied. There's something wrong about him." 
 
 "What shall you do?" asked the woman, stag- 
 gered by her husband's determined manner. " Shall 
 you send him away?" 
 
 "Wall, Betsey, I've thought it all over, coming 
 home, and the case is like this. If I say anything 
 to him, likely as not he'll clear out, and you know 
 the hurrying work is just coming. He's a good 
 workman, that I will say of him. He knows what
 
 216 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 he is about, and if he goes away I can't make his 
 place good. But 'taint best to trust him. Don't 
 let him know where your money is. Don't let him 
 know where anything is, for I tell you there's some- 
 thing wrong about him. If he did come from B 
 
 place, he has come from a den of iniquity ; if he did 
 not come from there, he has lied, and there's the 
 long and the short of it. But there's one thing sar- 
 tin. He's got to work. You needn't favor him 
 nor coax him. I'll have his money's worth out of 
 him." 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey felt convinced of the propriety of 
 her husband's conclusions, and her faith in the lad 
 was shaken. She saw that there was some discrep- 
 ancy for which she could not account; yet when he 
 came down the next morning, aud she looked in his 
 fair face, she was loath to believe him guilty of 
 wrong. His eye seemed so frank and open, and his 
 countenance so expressive of intelligence, that her 
 heart denied what her judgment believed. 
 
 But Mr. Higglesey had become fully prejudiced 
 against him, and a new life dawned upon the boy. 
 Mr. Higglesey grew harsh toward him. He no 
 longer gave his commands in a spirit of kindness. 
 He ordered, and Jotham was driven hither and
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 217 
 
 thither without mercy. The new hired man felt at 
 liberty to imitate his master, and he too directed 
 the boy till his young life was scarcely better than 
 if he had been born under slavery. 
 
 At first, Mrs. Higglesey tried not to change tow- 
 ard him. Her woman's heart had in it a spicing of 
 tenderness; but, gradually, as Enoch's belief gained 
 credence in her mind, insensibly it affected her. Jo- 
 tham missed her words of tenderness, longed for 
 the cakes she used slyly to tuck into his pockets, 
 and often Avistfully looked in her face for the glances 
 of love that formerly beamed upon him. But all 
 love seemed dried away, and he thought that work 
 had absorbed her nature. 
 
 Then he longed for his own mother, or for some 
 friend, some one to whom he could look for one 
 word of sympathy. True, Mr. Tracy spoke kindly 
 to him on the Sabbaths, and Amelia always gave 
 him a smiling bow. His Sabbath-school teacher 
 manifested an interest in him, and some of the 
 young people who had formed his acquaintance 
 bowed to him in the church aisles. But these were 
 only Sabbath occurrences, shut apart from each 
 other by the dreadful weeks at home. They seemed 
 rather like periodical dreams than like any part
 
 218 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 of his real life. To none of those friends could 
 he open his soul's afflictions. 
 
 Thus the spring passed, and summer stole into 
 her place. Scorching rays beat down upon the la- 
 borers' heads, and vegetation flushed into luxuri- 
 ance. The busy harrows and hoes fought with the 
 weeds that grew apace ; the days were long and the 
 nights short. Every moment of the latter was needed 
 for sleep, yet often Jotham could not sleep. He 
 was too tired, and, when he should have been sleep- 
 ing, he was often wiping away the tears that trickled 
 from his eyes. Yet he could not cry in peace, for 
 now the new farm-laborer was his bedfellow, and, 
 if a little sob attracted his attention, he laughed, 
 and called him a baby. 
 
 Thus he lost the comfort of his little chamber. 
 In that room, which had been his only quiet resort, 
 there was peace no longer. Its sanctity was in- 
 vaded. Besides, he could not rest, for the coarse 
 man, heedless of the boy, usurped so much of the 
 bed that there was scarcely room to stretch the 
 young, tired limbs. 
 
 Darkness enshrouded the soul of the sufferer. 
 Turning to look for comfort, he saw only discour- 
 agement. Clouds were above him, blackness be-
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 219 
 
 neath, and there was not a friend to help him in 
 his extremity. 
 
 Yet there was a Friend. One unseen was watch- 
 ing the soul under discipline for its own benefit. 
 He knew what was needed by His child, for He 
 had fashioned him out of clay, and put a spirit 
 within him. 
 
 Sometimes Jotham thought of this Friend. The 
 hallowed influences which had encircled his boyhood 
 could not be wholly thrown off. Sometimes, in the 
 midst of misery, Annette's words would come to 
 him. He would think of her oft-repeated, loving 
 counsel to pray. But his wrong conduct interposed, 
 and he thought surely the heavens were shut against 
 him. No, he dared not pray. He was too wicked. 
 Mrs. Higglesey saw that his step grew less elas- 
 tic, and that his cheek was thin; but her pity had 
 faded with her faith in him, and she offered him 
 no hope, no help. Some days he dropped upon the 
 grass in weariness; but ere he could rest, rough 
 voices called him to his work again. Sometimes 
 he leaned upon his hoe; but Mr. Higglesey sounded 
 the note, and that reprieve was ended. Sometimes 
 he thought he would run away; but he had no
 
 220 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 money, nor would Mr. Higglesey pay him till the 
 summer work had closed. 
 
 Then he groaned inwardly, saying, " O Annette ! 
 How true were your words! The crooked paths 
 of wrong lead to sorrows; but straight roads as- 
 cend to bliss. I shall never know that. I shall 
 never see happiness again!"
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 221 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ELLEN JORDAH. 
 
 i OFT morning breezes floated in and out 
 through the open windows of the old farm- 
 house. The sounds of labor mingled with 
 the notes of nature. The hum of insects, the twit- 
 ter of birds, the rattle of dairy-pans and the short 
 click of hoes were the rural music of that home- 
 stead, above which rang out the clear voice of Mrs. 
 Higglesey in command, while her steps jarred the 
 kitchen floor across which she hastily walked. 
 
 " Put these pans on the grass," she called to 
 Jotham. "Hang the pails in the sun. Carry that 
 milk to the pigs. Stir up some dough for the chick- 
 ens, and then bring me in half a dozen pails of 
 water. Step quickly, now, for we must have break- 
 fast directly." 
 
 "With hasty steps the boy obeyed. From order to 
 order he went, fulfilling each in its turn, and as he
 
 222 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 stood by the well, drawing the water from its cool 
 depths, he paused a moment to breathe. Leaning his 
 head wearily against the rope from which the bucket 
 was suspended, he listened to a robin near. Sud- 
 denly another sound fell upon his ear, a sound 
 which almost stilled his pulses, sending the blood 
 from his face, and bringing to his memory a rush 
 of recollections. He quickened his attention, and 
 listened once more. Was he in a dream, or was it 
 some strange reality? 
 
 Softly the sound came again, and more distinctly. 
 His pale face turned toward the window whence 
 the sound proceeded, and then he understood the 
 words, " Our Father who art in Heaven." 
 
 The boy's hands released their grasp upon the 
 rope, and the bucket fell into the water with a 
 splash; but he heeded it not. His only utterance 
 was "Annette, O Annette!" 
 
 The splash of the water attracted Mrs. Higglesey, 
 and looking from the window, she called, " What 
 you doiug there? Come, be quick." 
 
 He turned toward the well again, mechanically, 
 for Mrs. Higglesey was but secondary now. That 
 voice from the window was all he heard. He could 
 distinctly distinguish the words, and he could scarcely
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 223 
 
 restrain himself. It was a humble prayer, full of 
 the spirit of devotion and love, and the voice which 
 uttered it was the voice of his own sweet sister 
 Annette. Surely it must be she. 
 
 "Come, come!" called Mrs. Higglesey. "What 
 are you about? Fetch in that water, quick." 
 
 Slowly he obeyed', but his soul was in a tumult. 
 His thoughts were flashing back and forth from this 
 voice to his home, and from his home back to the 
 voice. "Who could it be? Was it a spirit? No. 
 His good judgment could not for a moment believe 
 that. Was it Annette? That could scarcely be. 
 He stumbled into the house with his full pail, and a 
 quantity of the water spilled over to the floor. 
 
 "Good-for-nothing blunderhead!" called Mrs. Hig- 
 glesey, with a voice heavier than usual. " What ails 
 you this morning? You'd better mind what you're 
 about! That's a pretty slop now, just as breakfast 
 is ready, and the school-ma'am here too! Haint I 
 been all the morning a-cleaning and scrubbing so as 
 to have the room decent for her? Get the mop now, 
 and wipe that up yourself. Do it quick, too, and 
 then bring in some more water. You might have 
 got two pails while you were getting that one.
 
 224 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 Enoch Higglesey don't pay for laziness; so you'd 
 better take care." 
 
 The boy spoke not a word, but hastily obeyed 
 her directions. His airy visions had fallen. It was 
 not Annette he heard, it was the new school-mis- 
 tress. She had come the evening before, and he had 
 not known of her arrival. So then there was no 
 one for him to love, and his conscience whispered 
 that this was just, for if he had left all that was 
 dear to him, he ought to suffer the consequences. 
 
 Presently the men came in to breakfast, and the 
 young teacher came quietly from her room. Jotham 
 glanced at her, and his eyes involuntarily followed 
 her movements. There was no introduction, but 
 Mrs. Higglesey placed a chair beside her own, and 
 the young girl took it with a slight bow, and a 
 quiet "thank you." She seemed like a gem dropped 
 among those coarse people. Two working-men be- 
 sides Jotham were now there, and Mr. Higglesey 
 felt the pressure of his business. With rapid mo- 
 tions the men dipped into the potatoes and salt 
 pork, eating as though each was striving against 
 the other, while Mr. Higglesey planned the day's 
 labor. "We must have that corn hoed before din- 
 ner," he said. " Haying will be here soon."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 225 
 
 Jothara felt ashamed to eat so rapidly in the pres- 
 ence of those liquid eyes that were ever and anon 
 resting their gaze upon him, but he knew there was 
 no alternative. Mrs. Higglesey never allowed lin- 
 gering at her table, and he must eat quickly or go 
 without. 
 
 " Come, Jotham," said Mr. Higglesey, as the men 
 rose from the table, "get your hoe, and follow 
 us." 
 
 Once more the boy glanced in the face of the young 
 teacher. She was looking at him earnestly. Then 
 her large, liquid, brown eyes wandered to the two 
 men, to the hard face of Mr. Higglesey, to the 
 broad countenance and capacious waist of the ener- 
 getic mistress of this household, then back to Jo- 
 tham, and his cheeks crimsoned under her gaze. He 
 felt as though she was reading his thoughts, and 
 trembled at his own unworthiness. His life came 
 in review before himself, as though a judge were 
 passing sentence of condemnation upon him. Yet 
 there was nothing stern in that fair countenance : 
 its. expression was purity and love. But even as 
 that morning prayer had recalled Annette to his 
 mind, so those searching eyes recalled the same 
 sister's brown orbs to his recollection. When Mr. 
 15
 
 226 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 Higglesey reached the outer door, the fascinated 
 boy had not moved from his seat, and the old 
 man looked back wrathfully. 
 
 " Why don't you start, boy ? " he demanded. " Come 
 on, quick ! " 
 
 The girl glanced from the speaker to the boy, and 
 Jotham saw her inquiring expression. He was con- 
 scious of a feeling of shame, the same which he had 
 experienced under the questions of Mr. Tracy. He 
 felt ashamed of his position, because he knew he was 
 where he ought not to be. He knew that he ought 
 to be in his own home, attending his own school, and 
 fitting himself for the duties of coming manhood. 
 Instead of that, he was wasting his time in labors 
 for which, by nature, he was unfitted. He was de- 
 stroying his own respectability by deserting his own 
 home; he was making himself unhappy, and was 
 dishonoring his friends. He passed out with tumult- 
 uous feelings, and when he was gone, the girl turned 
 to Mrs. Higglesey, inquiringly. 
 
 " Is that your son, Mrs. Higglesey? " 
 
 "No, Miss Jordan; 'tis a boy we hire. He came 
 along here after work. We don't know who he is. 
 He says his name is Jotham Wilson, and he told 
 where his folks live; but we can't find 'em, and we
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 227 
 
 expect he has told a falsehood. But he's smart to 
 work, and so Mr. Higglesey keeps him." 
 
 " He is a fine-looking boy," Miss Jordan replied. 
 
 "Well, yes, he is; that's a fact. I did think the 
 world of him till we found he hadn't told us the 
 truth. But we do know that he has no father living 
 where he said they lived." 
 
 "Did you charge him with the untruth?" 
 
 " No. Enoch said maybe he'd be angry, and go 
 off before his time would be out. You see he's a 
 good boy to work, and we don't want to spare him." 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey arose and began her work, and 
 Miss Jordan returned to her room ; but she could not 
 erase from her mind the bright, intelligent face that 
 had been opposite her at the table. She could not 
 forget the earnestnesss with which she had discov- 
 ered him furtively watching her, nor the sigh which 
 escaped him as he arose to follow Mr. Higglesey. 
 She was strangely interested in him, and Mrs. Hig- 
 glesey's account of him increased that interest. 
 
 Her school was half a mile away ; and, as she could 
 not come home to dinner, she placed a light lunch in 
 her reticule, and went forth to her summer's task. 
 The birds sang to her their morning carol, and she 
 looked upon nature with a happy heart, while a
 
 228 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 prayer arose to her lips that she might be useful 
 to the little ones under her charge. 
 
 Jotham came in at noon, hoping to see her pleasant 
 face; but he was disappointed. His soul had been 
 surging vehemently during the forenoon. That prayer 
 and those brown eyes had haunted him. It seemed 
 as though the spirit of Annette had come to him, 
 reproving him with a silent gaze, and saying, "Why 
 do you so, Jotham? Come home to me! oh, come! " 
 
 He had not been so diligent as usual. He could 
 not work. His hands utterly refused their toil, and 
 his thoughts careered within him like the vagaries 
 of a drunken man. Many sharp reproofs had come 
 from Mr. Higglesey, and then he tried to work 
 steadily ; but soon his labor was forgotten in his ex- 
 citement, and then Mr. Higglesey called again, 
 
 "What ails you, boy? If you expect me to pay 
 you, you'd better work, I can tell you. None of your 
 laziness on my farm! Pony up, or quit." 
 
 Jotham had half a mind to say " I'll quit ! " but 
 something restrained him. The same guilt which 
 had brought him to this condition kept him still in 
 bondage. 
 
 Miss Jordan came home at night, and at the tea- 
 table the harassed boy raet again those strangely
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 229 
 
 fascinating brown eyes. He looked at them every 
 moment, when he thought they were not observing 
 him, and they looked at him in the same way. Often 
 their glances met, and then Jotham looked down 
 confused; but she smiled at him in kindness, as 
 though she would win him to her. He seemed so 
 utterly unlike the men beside him, that the contrast 
 made him gleam the brighter, and, besides, there 
 was a sadness in his dark eyes, a hidden hopeless- 
 ness, which, though never observed by Mrs. Higgle- 
 sey, was quickly noticed by the more gifted teacher. 
 
 " I never saw a prettier boy in my life," she said 
 to herself, in the mute language of her own heart. 
 "How could they speak so unkindly to him this 
 morning ? " 
 
 The week passed away with this mutual inter- 
 change of glances. Neither had spoken to the other, 
 for there had been no opportunity; but each strove 
 to read the other by the keen observance of the eyes. 
 Miss Jordan felt sure that if she could but become 
 acquainted with him, he would be a companion for 
 her, and she really longed for companionship. Mrs. 
 Higglesey treated her with great respect, but there 
 was no harmony between their natures, and she felt 
 like one solitary. Sometimes at twilight she walked
 
 230 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 in the yard with a book in her hand, and wished 
 for some one to mingle thoughts with hers; but the 
 twilight hour was never a time of rest at that home. 
 There were the milking, and numerous other duties, 
 which allowed no leisure. She saw Jotham going 
 from place to place, and she pitied him, for he went 
 like one compelled, rather than with a willing heart. 
 
 The Sabbath came, with its rural stillness. The 
 day-laborers had gone to their homes, and there 
 gathered around the morning table only Mr. and 
 Mrs. Higglesey, the young teacher, and Jotham. 
 Miss Jordan felt less restraint; and as the conver- 
 sation turned upon the church services and upon 
 the minister, she ventured to talk quite freely; but 
 Jotham said nothing. He was very unhappy. The 
 week had brought a series of trials to him. The 
 presence of Miss Jordan, and her striking likeness 
 to Annette, had kept him in a continual agitation. 
 He had blundered and he had been careless. Heavy 
 reproofs had fallen upon him, and many nights he 
 had wept himself to sleep. 
 
 He still went to church, for Mrs. Higglesey con- 
 sidered it a great sin to idle away the Lord's day 
 in sleep or in mere pleasures. At the hour for 
 church Jotham appeared in his Sunday suit. It
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 231 
 
 was the same he had worn there, and so carefully 
 had it been treated that it was scarcely changed. 
 
 "I declare, what a handsome boy he is!" Miss 
 Jordan remarked, as he came to the door with the 
 horses. 
 
 "He looks well enough," Mrs. Higglesey replied; 
 " but to my mind, handsome is that handsome does." 
 
 "I am sure he seems to be good," the teacher 
 responded. 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey shook her head knowingly. 
 
 " I thought so once, Miss Jordan ; but things look 
 too suspicious. I can't help thinking Enoch's right. 
 I'm real sorry, for I could like him ever so much if 
 I could be sure he was good." 
 
 Miss Jordan was puzzled. She could not reconcile 
 that bright face with ugliness. She could not trace 
 in those lineaments any lines of maliciousness or of 
 deception. In spite of Mrs. Higglesey's suspicions, 
 she liked him, and she talked with him as they rode 
 to and from church together. ^Her intelligent ques- 
 tions drew forth intelligent answers, and she felt as 
 though she had found one who might help to make 
 her summer pleasant if she could but overcome his 
 reserve. 
 
 That night she sat in her room. The house was
 
 232 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 quiet, for busy as were Mr. and Mrs. Higglesey 
 through the week, they endeavored to keep the Sab- 
 bath day. Jotham was allowed rest on that day, 
 and, going into the yard after the family supper, he 
 sat down under the shade of a tree upon a log 
 which lay among the grass, and buried his face in 
 his hands. His thoughts were in his home, and his 
 soul was full of remorse. Presently a sound of 
 music burst upon his ear, and a full voice sung, 
 
 " Hearer my God to tbee, 
 Nearer to thee." 
 
 It was Annette's favorite hymn. As the first strain 
 fell upon Jotham's ear, he caught his breath, listened 
 again, and then burst into tears. From verse to 
 verse the singer passed, carrying her listener's 
 thoughts with her in each strain. Presently he 
 wiped away the tears, and, looking up into the 
 heavens, thought, not of Annette, nor of home, but 
 of the singer herself, and of the God to whom she 
 seemed to be drawing nearer. She finished the 
 hymn, and then, as though not satisfied, began - it 
 again. Jotham loved singing, and Miss Jordan's 
 voice was very full and sweet. Once or twice, tears 
 started again, but he brushed them away, and by 
 the time the singer reached the last verse the sec-
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 233 
 
 orid time, he had so far recovered his natural mood, 
 that, scarcely conscious of what he was doing, he 
 struck the chord and joined the last line with his 
 own voice. He did not sing loud, but the strain 
 was heard, and in a moment the fair singer's face 
 appeared at the window. 
 
 " So ho ! " she said, with a smile. " That was 
 you, was it? I am right glad you can sing. Come 
 in here, now, and we will have some more music. 
 I was just wishing I had some one to help me." 
 
 The boy shook his head. 
 
 " So you won't come, will you? Well, I'll come 
 out there. It will sound all the better in the open 
 air." 
 
 Before Jotham could realize her actions she darted 
 through the sitting-room adjoining her small room, 
 and, with her book in her hand, joined him on the 
 log. 
 
 "What a nice seat this is!" she said. "It must 
 have been left here for our accommodation. I am 
 so glad you sing!" 
 
 "I do not sing much," he responded. 
 
 "Ah, but I heard you, and if you can sing one 
 strain, you can sing more. Did you ever see a book
 
 234 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 like this?" and she handed him a small Sabbath- 
 school singing-book. 
 
 " I had one at home," he replied, his voice quiver- 
 ing. 
 
 "Did you? Then of course you know the tunes. 
 I am so glad, for I never like to sing alone. At 
 home I had two sisters to sing with me, and two 
 brothers. Such grand concerts as we had! Do you 
 know this tune ? " 
 
 She had turned to " The Beautiful Land," every 
 line of which was familiar to Jotham as the al- 
 phabet. 
 
 " Yes, I know it," he answered; "but I can't sing 
 much. I don't feel like it." 
 
 "Just so my brother used to say sometimes; but 
 we'd always tease him till we got him started, and 
 then he'd sing beautifully, and enjoy it too. I like 
 to sing in the open air, so we'll sing right here till 
 the robins stop to listen." 
 
 She spoke so rapidly, her voice was so merry, 
 and her manner was so urgent that Jotham could 
 not refuse. He joined her, timidly at first, but soon 
 he grew interested ; his heart wanned with the mel- 
 ody, and he suffered his voice to come out in ful- 
 ness.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 235 
 
 " That was.grand," she said, as they closed. " Now 
 let us have another." 
 
 Without giving him time to refuse, she turned the 
 leaves, and chose another. Jotham's timidity and 
 almost the sense of his guilt passed away as they 
 sung on. His soul seemed re-created, and his 
 senses were carried away. 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey was sitting in her room with her 
 open Bible in her hand. She always read her Bible 
 on the Sabbath, and spent the day very devotion- 
 ally. No work was allowed which could be avoided, 
 and her face was always more solemn than through 
 the week. The strains of the singing floated in at 
 her open window. 
 
 "Now I wonder," she said, rising and going to 
 the window; but nothing was to be seen. She lis- 
 tened again, and could hear the soft melody coming 
 around the corner of the house. "That's some- 
 body," she observed, emphatically, and, going 
 into the kitchen, she looked out at the other side 
 of the house. 
 
 " There, Enoch Higglesey, do see!" she exclaimed. 
 "Wake up, and look out here! Now if that aint 
 a pretty sight! And they're singing them Sunday-
 
 236 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 school songs as well as they can sing 'em in the 
 Sunday school itself." 
 
 Mr. Higglesey rubbed his eyes, and arose from 
 the chair in which he had been dozing. 
 
 "Now, Enoch, don't they look pretty? I declare 
 for't, Jotham is handsome;" and then the old wish 
 that he was her own boy arose in her mind, but 
 she choked it down again by thinking of his uu- 
 truthfulness. 
 
 Suddenly Jotham paused and turned to his com- 
 panion, 
 
 "Miss Jordan, I hope you will excuse my dress. 
 I did not think before. I am hardly fit to sit be- 
 side you." 
 
 "No matter," she said, laughing. "It was I that 
 came to you, you know. Of course you took off 
 your best suit to save it. I would have done the 
 same if I had work to do. Come, let us sing again ; 
 but no, I have a request to make. Don't call 
 me Miss Jordan. It seems too old. Call me Ellen. 
 That is my name. Now for another tune. We are 
 charming the birds, I ana sure." 
 
 "That's a fact," added Mrs. Higglesey, coming to 
 the window. 
 
 Miss Jordan looked up and blushed.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 237 
 
 "I didn't know we had an audience," she said. 
 "Well, school-ma'am, you needn't be ashamed," 
 replied Mrs. Higglesey. " You do sing equal to the 
 Sunday school." 
 
 Then Mr. and Mrs. Higglesey sat by the window 
 while the two entertained them, until Mr. Higgle- 
 sey called, 
 
 "Wall, wall, boy, that's good; but no more now. 
 You must get up the cows." 
 
 Jotham dropped the book, and went obediently. 
 His heart was lighter than common, and his step 
 more buoyant. 
 
 "He's a splendid boy," said Miss Jordan, coming 
 to the window where the old people sat. 
 
 "All's not gold that glitters," replied Mr. Higgle- 
 sey ; and then he gave the young lady a full account 
 of his suspicions and his reasons for them, adding 
 at the close, "There's no mistake, there's some- 
 thing wrong about him." 
 
 " I don't understand it," replied Miss Jordan. 
 " He neither looks nor appears like a bad boy." 
 
 She thought of him much through the week, though 
 she saw him little except at table, for there was no 
 cessation in the work. Early and late the boy was 
 busy, not moderately busy, but driving, with Mr.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 Higglesey ever prompting him. Yet, even in the 
 midst of his labors, there was a new light in his 
 soul. Miss Jordan's pleasant face met him at table, 
 and he felt the influence of her presence. She became 
 to him as something sacred. He compared her with 
 Annette, and he saw much that was similar, and much 
 that was different. She was more lively than Annette, 
 more mirthful. He remembered Annette as tender 
 and serious, full of deep thought ; but Miss Jordan, 
 though equally religious, was playful and fun-loving. 
 
 The next Sabbath was rainy. They could not go 
 out, and Miss Jordan persuaded him to go to her 
 room. 
 
 "Don't you love to read?" she asked. "Come, 
 I have a few books, and we will read them to- 
 gether." 
 
 That was a day of delight to the boy. 
 
 " O Miss Jordan! " he exclaimed, as he sat down by 
 her table, " I haven't seen a book, except the Bible, 
 since I have been here. I don't believe there is one 
 in the house." 
 
 "No," she answered, laughing; "there is money 
 in this house, that is all. But I do not believe in 
 that way. I like my father's way. He spends his
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 239 
 
 money for books and papers, and things that make 
 life pleasant." 
 
 Then she went on and gave Jotham a history of her 
 family, and described the place where they lived. 
 
 " There," she added, pleasantly, " I have told you 
 who I am ; now tell me who you are." 
 
 " Miss Jordan ! " he responded, half thrown off 
 his guard by her confiding persuasiveness. 
 
 " Well," she returned, smiling. 
 
 " I can't tell you, Miss Jordan. I am nobody." 
 
 "Ha, ha, ha!" she returned. "Nobody! Why, I 
 read a story once about Nobody, and a sorry time 
 he had of it. No, indeed, you're not nobody, and I'm 
 not the only one who thinks so. I know some one 
 that thinks you are somebody, and a good deal of 
 somebody, too." 
 
 "Who is it?" he asked, with curiosity. 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you when you have told me who 
 you are." 
 
 " Why, I'm Jotham Wilson," he replied, making 
 an effort to speak cheerfully. 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know that; and Mrs. Higglesey told 
 me you came from the city. Now I want to know 
 this: have you a father?" 
 
 "Yes."
 
 240 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 "And a mother? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And a sister? " 
 
 "Yes; one." 
 
 "What is her name?" 
 
 " Annette." 
 
 "Annette! What a pretty name! How old is 
 she ? " 
 
 "Two years older than I am." 
 
 "Just a year younger than I am, then, because I 
 am three years older than you, you know. I wish 
 I could see her. Is she pretty ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, Miss Jordan, she is very pretty. She 
 looks like you." 
 
 "Pshaw! you make me blush! Have you a 
 brother?" 
 
 "Yes; one." 
 
 "Do you go home often?" 
 
 "I haven't been since last fall." 
 There was a tremor in his voice as he said this. 
 and a look of painful agony crossed his face. Miss 
 Jordan noticed it, but forbore to mention it. She 
 felt that she had no right to question him further. 
 She saw that some mystery lay concealed, but chari- 
 tably thought some misfortune had overtaken him,
 
 THE CROOK STR4IGIITENED. 241 
 
 and then she tried to cause him to forget his 
 troubles. 
 
 "Well," she said, laughing, "you have told me who 
 you are ; now I will tell you who it is that thinks you 
 are somebody. It is Amelia Tracy." 
 
 Jotham colored, and his heart went pit-a-pat, in 
 spite of his efforts to restrain it. Miss Jordan smiled 
 at the effect of her words, and, seeing that she had 
 put joy in the place of sorrow, she selected a book, 
 and they sat down to read. The day fled rapidly 
 to the boy, whose mind was famishing for books, 
 and he thanked Miss Jordan for the kindness she 
 had shown him. 
 
 Then another week went by, and haying com- 
 menced. Another workman came, and Mr. Higgle- 
 sey seemed endowed with the fire of youth. He 
 was never weary. He could swing the scythe as 
 vigorously as his smartest man, and not only did 
 he work continually himself, but his men caught 
 the spirit, and the whole farm seemed alive with 
 labor. 
 
 16
 
 242 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SUDDEN DEPARTURE. 
 
 JORDAN loved to walk at the twi- 
 light honr. Sometimes she rambled in the 
 fields, and plucked the wild fruits, or gath- 
 ered flowers for her room. There were none here 
 to walk with her, for all were too busy to pause in 
 admiration of the beauties of nature. One evening, 
 the zephyrs fanned the heated air so refreshingly 
 that she was tempted beyond her usual limits, and, 
 strolling down the lane, entered the pasture from 
 which the cows had just been driven. Little hill- 
 ocks of moss and checkerberry dotted the surface, 
 a few trees were scattered about, and a brook gur- 
 gled its way down the gentle declivity. Beyond, 
 dark woods bounded the irregular field. 
 
 She wandered on, up and down by the brook, 
 till dark shadows were about her, and she felt that 
 she ought' to return. Yet the coolness was re-
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 243 
 
 freshing, her heart was attuned to praises, and she 
 was loath to go back where loud voices would jar 
 the harmony of her communings. It was nearly 
 dark when she slowly retraced her steps. Near the 
 foot of the lane which led to the house, there was 
 a ledge, or mass of broken rocks piled in confusion, 
 around which the cattle had worn a well-trodden 
 path. Into this path she stepped, under the shadow 
 of the rocks, and slowly walked, picking her way 
 carefully. She was just ready to emerge again, when 
 a faint noise arrested her attention. 
 
 She was frightened a little, for the noise seemed 
 to be human, and she wondered who could be hid- 
 den in that desolate ledge. Involuntarily her steps 
 quickened, and she was hastening on, when a second 
 sound came louder than the first. It was a moan, 
 a half-wail of anguish, and the young lady paused. 
 Then there came another groan, still more distinct, 
 and she said to herself, 
 
 "Surely, that is Jotham. Can he be here?" 
 
 The sighs continued, and as she could distinguish 
 nothing, she called, 
 
 " Jotham ! " 
 
 There was a hush. Not a response followed her 
 call, and she spoke again,
 
 244 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " Jotham ! 
 
 But there was no reply. Confident, however, that 
 he was there, she passed around the ledge, scruti- 
 nizing every crevice as closely as the darkness 
 permitted, till on the opposite side she found a 
 crouching form. The face was buried beneath the 
 hands, and the body was convulsed with sobs. She 
 laid her hands upon his shoulder, and spoke gently. 
 
 "Jotham, why are you here?" 
 
 "O Miss Jordan! I didn't know you were here. 
 I thought I was alone." 
 
 "But why are you here, Jotham? And why are 
 you so distressed?" 
 
 " O Miss Jordan ! There's a cow lost, and Mr. 
 Higglesey sent me to find it." 
 
 "And is that why you cry? Come, I'll go with 
 you. Where do you suppose she can be?" 
 
 "I don't know, Miss Jordan." 
 
 " Well, I wouldn't worry. It is too dark to see 
 far, but we'll wander about a little. Maybe we'll 
 hear her somewhere. Perhaps she likes the cool 
 evening, just as I do, and has walked about to 
 refresh herself. Come, let us follow the brook 
 down a little way." 
 
 Jotham repressed his sobs and arose. He was
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 245 
 
 ashamed to refuse her offer, but still the agony did 
 not leave him, and not even her cheerful conversa- 
 tion could enliven him. At length they reached a 
 mossy bank without hearing or seeing the truant. 
 
 "I can't go any further, indeed I can't," he 
 said, dropping upon the moss. "I'm so tired." 
 
 "Poor boy!" she responded. "I don't wonder 
 you are tired. They are great workers here, and I 
 am sure you have never been used to work. Let 
 us sit here a few minutes while you rest. We 
 cannot find the cow." 
 
 "But Mr. Higglesey told me not to come back 
 without her," he rejoined. 
 
 "Ah, but you can't find her! Very likely she is 
 somewhere in the woods. She must stay until 
 morning." 
 
 The boy sighed. 
 
 " I dare not go home without her, Miss Jordan. 
 Mr. Higglesey will scold more than ever." 
 
 " Well, I will tell him myself. He ought not to 
 be cross about it. My father has a farm, you 
 know, and the cows are often gone over night." 
 
 "But I guess your father isn't cross," he added, 
 looking up at her by the light of the stars which 
 were now twinklitur above them.
 
 246 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 "No, indeed he isn't, Jotham. But there is one 
 thing puzzles me. May I ask you a question, and 
 will you forgive me if I seem impertinent ? " 
 
 "I will forgive you anything, Miss Jordan." 
 
 "Tell me, then, how you came here, and why 
 you stay here?" 
 
 He did not answer. A rush of thought seemed 
 to overpower him, and she repeated her question. 
 
 "Believe me," she added, kindly, "it is not idle 
 curiosity that prompts my question. I have no 
 wish to learn forbidden secrets. But I feel a 
 strange interest in you. I see you' in a position for 
 which you seem totally unfitted. You are intelli- 
 gent. Your manners are refined. You must have 
 had a good home. Now we all know that God has 
 made people different. Some have capacities for 
 business, some are machinists, some mechanics, 
 some are doctors, some lawyers, some scholars, 
 some ministers, and some have a natural aptitude 
 for farming. All people ought to pursue that occu- 
 pation for which they are fitted. You seem to me 
 out of place. You are not strong like a boy trained 
 to work. Tell me, do you like this- business?" 
 
 "No, Miss Jordan, I do not." 
 
 "Does your father compel you to stay here?"
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 247 
 
 Jotham did not reply, but the tenderness of her 
 manner, so like the ways of his own sister, quite 
 overpowered him, and he burst into tears. Miss 
 Jordan appeared distressed. 
 
 " Forgive me," she said. " I did not mean to 
 pain you. I thought I could comfort you." 
 
 "I do not deserve comfort," he murmured be- 
 tween his sobs. 
 
 "Not deserve comfort! Why, yes, you do! The 
 meanest criminal is worthy of pity and comfort. 
 Bad people are often made good by sympathy and 
 love. You are not bad, I am sure." 
 
 "I'm the meanest person in the world," he ad- 
 ded. " You do not know how wicked I am. You 
 woujd not speak to me if you knew." 
 
 "O Jotham! I do not believe that. But do not 
 cry so. I wish you would let me be your friend. 
 Come, while we are resting, tell me all about 
 yourself. You will feel better. Just imagine that 
 you are talking to Annette. Didn't you tell her 
 your secrets and troubles sometimes?" 
 
 " Yes." 9 ; 
 
 " I thought so. My brothers tell me things that 
 they wouldn't mention to father and mother. You
 
 248 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 know sisters can always sympathize. Tell me wliy 
 you feel so wicked." 
 
 There was a great struggle in Jotham's mind. He 
 had longed for a friend, and now one had come to 
 him; but could he tell her? Wouldn't she turn from 
 him in disgust? He brushed the tears from his eyes, 
 looked up at the heavens, then down at the earth, 
 then turned, sighed, and at last said, 
 
 "If I tell you a little, Miss Jordan, I must tell 
 a great deal." 
 
 "Well, that is what I'd like. Tell me, first, what 
 sent you here. Is your father very poor?" 
 
 " Oh, no, no, Miss Jordan! It was because I was 
 so wicked." 
 
 " But what did you do? " 
 
 Jotham struggled a moment longer with his feel- 
 ings, then the ice broke, and he said, "I did so 
 many things, so many." 
 
 Then he began his life, and rehearsed his story to 
 her without prevarication. Atl the manly honesty 
 of his nature flowed from his lips. He did not pal- 
 liate a single crime, and she listened attentively. 
 Once started, it seemed a relief to him to talk, and 
 his words came rapidly, like a pent-up torrent sud-
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 249 
 
 denly broke forth. His tears ceased, and his heart 
 unburdened itself of its misery. 
 
 "Truly," said Miss Jordan, at the close of the 
 narrative, "'the way of the transgressor is hard.'" 
 
 Jotham dropped his head. Her remark had little 
 of encouragement, but she quickly asked, 
 
 "What do you think I advise you, Jotham?" 
 
 "I don't know, Miss Jordan." 
 
 "Well, I advise you to write to your father." 
 
 "Oh, I dare not!" 
 
 "Why not? Do you think he will never forgive 
 you? I know that he is longing to know where 
 you are. And think of your mother and Annette. 
 Think of the sorrow your absence causes them." 
 
 " But if I go home, they would be ashamed of 
 me." 
 
 "And are not they ashamed now? When peo- 
 ple ask them whether they have heard from you, 
 is not shame mingled with regret in their an- 
 swers ? " 
 
 " But I can never go home, Miss Jordan. I could 
 not meet my friends in the street. They would 
 point the finger of scorn at me." 
 
 "Perhaps so. That would be one of the pen- 
 alties you must pay for wrong-doing. You have
 
 250 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 got into a path where there are briars. You must 
 expect to get scratched in coming out. But what 
 is the finger of scorn compared to the conscious- 
 ness of doing right? Get into the way of duty, 
 Jotham, and then stand firm. You are not a cow- 
 ard, I hope." 
 
 "I wasn't once Miss Jordan. I don't know 
 what I am now." 
 
 " But you are no coward now. I am sure of that. 
 Let me think. Let me count the list of your of- 
 fences. The very first step in your disobedience 
 was when your father told you not to go with 
 those boys whom he believed improper compan- 
 ions. You disobeyed. You secretly went, and 
 they led you into all your troubles. They taught 
 you to smoke, to drink, to gamble in their way, to 
 play truant from school, to use bad words, and 
 finally persuaded you to help rob an old woman's 
 fruit-trees ; then you were caught, put in the lock- 
 up, your father took you out, and reproved you. 
 You ought to have expected this reproof. You 
 ought to have submitted quietly; but you would 
 not bear it. You ran away. You left your father 
 because you thought him harsh, and here you are
 
 CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 251 
 
 in the hands of a master who knows no mercy. 
 You have not gained much." 
 
 " But, Miss Jordan, you know I have not seen 
 my father since my last offence, which was running 
 away. Do you suppose he would forgive me?" 
 
 " Certainly, I do. Did you ever read the story 
 of the prodigal son? They would kill the fatted 
 calf, and bring forth the best robes for you in your 
 home now, Jotham, and neither Annette nor Harry 
 would be unwilling to see you feasted. Why, if 
 you were my brother, I would do everything to 
 show you my joy at your return. Let us go home. 
 You must write this very night." 
 
 " I am so tired, I cannot." 
 
 " Let me write, then. I will write *o Annette. 
 I should like to know her. You say she is good." 
 
 " O Miss Jordan, she is very good." 
 
 "Now, Jotham, I will write to her, and you shall 
 read the letter. "We will not say a word to any 
 one here ; but there is One to whom you ought to 
 speak." 
 
 "To whom?" he asked, looking in her eyes. 
 
 She pointed her finger upward with a reverent 
 look.
 
 252 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 "O Miss Jordan, I cannot. I dare not. God 
 would not listen to me." 
 
 " Do not say that, Jotham. Is not God a Spirit? 
 Is he not about us and in us ? Does he not see and 
 know? Would he not be merciful who satisfieth 
 the wants of every creature? You must pray. You 
 
 say that you promised your grandmother that you 
 
 
 
 would pray every day. If you had kept that prom- 
 ise, you would now be in your happy home. Come, 
 let us go to the house." 
 
 "But the cow, Miss Jordan, the cow! I had 
 forgotten her. I cannot go up without her." 
 
 "You cannot find her now. It is late, and the 
 stars are our only light. See those woods stretch 
 along there. Very likely she is in there." 
 
 " But Mr. Higglesey will scold so." 
 
 "Never mind that. It was not your fault that 
 the cow went away. She will come in the morn- 
 ing. Think of the new hopes that await you. If 
 they scold, be quiet. Do not reply angrily. Remem- 
 ber that I am your friend. No I do not say that ; 
 remember that God is your friend. Look up to 
 him. Let holy purposes fill your thoughts. Let 
 high resolves be yours. Determine to be in the 
 future so noble that the past shall be forgotten."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 253 
 
 " Oh, I never can remove this stain, Miss Jordan ! 
 People will never think well of me." 
 
 "Oh, yes, they will! Look to God. He will help 
 you." 
 
 Slowly they walked to the house, talking as they 
 went, and Jotham felt as though he had emerged 
 into a new world. He looked upon the young 
 teacher almost as though she were some angel of 
 light who had been appointed to bear away his bur- 
 dens. Even the hem of her garment seemed sa- 
 cred. As they came near the door she dropped her 
 serious mood, and resumed her natural sprightliness. 
 
 "Now I'll tell you," she said, softly, "I'll manage 
 about the cow. Mr. Higglesey won't dare scold 
 me, you know." 
 
 The old man was at the door, listening, and, as 
 the sound of footsteps drew near, he came out and 
 peered through the darkness, calling loudly, 
 
 "Where's the cow, boy? Have you come up 
 without her? If you have you " 
 
 "O Mr. Higglesey," interrupted Miss Jordan, 
 " we can't find her anywhere." 
 
 " You, school-ma'am ! " said the old man, in aston- 
 ishment. "How did you come out here? Where've 
 you been?"
 
 254 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 " Oh, I was down in the pasture after checker- 
 berries and raspberries and wild flowers, and Jo- 
 tham came down for the cow, so I went with him, 
 but we couldn't find her. It is too bad, isn't it? 
 I am so sorry. Sometimes ours get away, and 
 mother always feels .so badly, because she loses the 
 milk, you know. There are ever so many perplex- 
 ities in this world, aren't there, Mr. Higglesey ? I'm 
 sure I find them. Even in my school things wou't 
 always go right, and of course they can't always go 
 right with you, especially as you have so much to 
 take care of. Why, people say you are the richest 
 man in town, and have money in the bank." 
 
 Now the young lady had touched the chord which 
 vibrated most easily at the sweep of flattery. lie 
 was proud of being thought rich, and the quick 
 words of the girl had borne him quite away from 
 his fretfulness, and lifted him up into the regions 
 of self-respect. He would not use his customary 
 language in her presence, and Jotharn went upstairs 
 with a thankful heart. 
 
 But though he had escaped the master, the mis- 
 tress was not so easily foiled. She called after the 
 boy and bade him come down. 
 
 "Where's the cow?" she asked.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 255 
 
 " I don't know, ma'am. I couldn't find her." 
 
 "Couldn't find her! You didn't try. Now I must 
 lose a brim pailful of milk, just by your careless- 
 ness. Why didn't you look for her when the other 
 cows came? Why didn't you count and see if they 
 were all there ? I tell you, do you be up by the first 
 streak of dawn, and be off with yourself, and don't 
 you come back till you have found the cow." 
 
 An hour sooner, the boy would have felt that his 
 last friend had forsaken him; but now there was a 
 warmth within his breast. He had a new friend, 
 one far dearer and better than Mrs. Higglesey. He 
 no longer carried his sorrows alone. He had lain 
 wakefully in his chamber many nights from sorrow; 
 now he could not sleep from excess of joy, and at 
 the first gray dawn the voice of Mr. Higglesey rang 
 in his ears, with a shrill morning call, 
 
 "Be up, and off with you! Don't you come 
 back without that cow. If you do, you'll catch it. 
 The school-ma'am won't get you off again so easy." 
 
 Owing to the warmth of the night, Miss Jordan 
 left her door open, and heard the rough tones of 
 Mrs. Higglesey. 
 
 "Poor boy!" she said to herself. "Before I 
 sleep, I'll write to his sister. I am sure they will
 
 256 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 take him home again, and that is where he ought 
 to be." 
 
 Her neat letter was written and laid away for 
 Jotham's inspection ; then with a prayer and a smile 
 of contentment she closed her eyes in peace. Mr. 
 Higglesey's rude call at the early hour, and Jotham's 
 weary step down the stairs disturbed her morning 
 slumbers; but she thought of the letter which she 
 was sure would bring relief, and determined to send 
 it at the first opportunity. 
 
 The breakfast hour came but no Jotham. Mr. 
 Higglesey grew impatient. 
 
 "Fine job, this!" he muttered. "The very best 
 hay weather of the season, and here's the boy, gone, 
 nobody knows where. What's going to become of 
 his work, I'd like to know?" 
 
 " And I'd like to know what's to become of the 
 cow ! " said Mrs. Higglesey. " There's my cheese. 
 'Twill miss that milk, I reckon. Some of your 
 fences are rotten, Enoch Higglesey, and the cow 
 has got out." 
 
 "My fences are not rotten," replied the farmer, 
 indignant at the charge. "You'll have to milk, 
 Betsey, when the cow comes. I'd like to give that 
 boy a-thrashing."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 257 
 
 Miss Jordan looked in the farmer's angry face, 
 arid thought how love of money and a life of slavish 
 labor had debased him. She wondered why Jotham 
 should be thrashed because the cow had escaped, 
 and again she remembered her letter to Annette, 
 trusting that the boy would be liberated from his 
 servitude, be restored to his home and to the paths 
 of integrity. 
 
 She was not there at noon. She did not see the 
 excitement when Mr. Higglesey came in and learned 
 that the cow had come, and Jotham had not. 
 
 " The rascal ! " shouted the old man. " I'll give it to 
 him when he comes ! He's off getting rid of work. 
 I seed him dragging round yesterday. I knew he 
 was getting lazy. A good deal he's after the cow, 
 and she all the time at home! Which way did she 
 come, Betsey ? " 
 
 " Why, she came up the road, and I thought 
 every minute I'd see Jotham behind her. Strange! 
 He didn't have no breakfast, you know, and here 
 'tis noon." 
 
 "I'll give it to him," growled the wrathful man. 
 "I'll teach him not to spile another day's work in 
 the middle of haying." 
 
 Miss Jordan returned at night, but Jotham had 
 17
 
 258 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 not come. She> was troubled. She remembered his 
 discouragements, thought of the tale he told her the 
 night before, and feared that in remorse he had 
 committed some desperate deed. 
 
 "Poor boy!" she mused. "He feels like an out 
 cast, and he has committed some new act of folly, 
 I believe." 
 
 ' But she did not betray him. That which he had 
 imparted to her in secret remained a secret still. 
 She sat by the window and watched for him, hoping 
 that night would bring him; but darkness shut her 
 curtains down, and he was still away. Then she could 
 not avoid forebodings, and, as the night previous she 
 had knelt in thankfulness, so now she knelt in humble, 
 agonizing prayer. She prayed for the wanderer, that 
 he might be restored to the path of rectitude. 
 
 Mrs. Higglesey was perplexed, and, in truth, anx- 
 ious. She had never ceased her interest in the bright 
 boy, although she had been harsh to him of late, 
 through her husband's representations that some- 
 thing about him was wrong. 
 
 But Mr. Higglesey was decidedly angry. 
 
 "I might have known 'twould turn out so," he 
 said. " lie was a street vagabond ; I've no doubt. 
 JJ place was probably his home. I guess I'll
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 259 
 
 never pick up another fellow in the road. Now here 
 I am in the midst of my haying without a boy. 
 Wall, Betsey, there's one consolation : I haint paid 
 him nothing yet. What he has done I've got for 
 nothing." 
 
 " That's a fact, Enoch Higglesey. Tis an ill 
 wind that blows nobody any good. He's never cost 
 us a cent of money yet, and he has done a good deal 
 of work; and he could do any kind of work too. 
 He was nobody's fool. I hope folks won't find out 
 he's gone, 'cause they're always telling how hard 
 people work here, and they'll say he went off 'cause 
 he had such a hard time." 
 
 But people did hear of it. The neighbors were 
 soon aware of the absence of the smart boy who 
 could work fast enough to please old Enoch Hig- 
 glesey, and they said precisely what Mrs. Higglesey 
 feared. Several nights the outer door was left un- 
 fastened, for Mr. Higglesey said, "Like enough 
 he'll come crawling back in the night ; " but he came 
 not. 
 
 Miss Jordan missed him sadly. She knew not 
 what to do. Should she send this letter to Annette? 
 Would not his friends receive additional pain to hear
 
 260 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 from him, and yet find him lost? In the midst of 
 her perplexity she thought of Mr. Tracy. 
 
 "Yes," she decided, "I'll tell Mr. Tracy his his- 
 tory. He will tell me what course to pursue. I will 
 tell him next Sabbath, for I shall have no other op- 
 portunity." 
 
 Mr. Tracy missed the bright face from Mr. Hig- 
 glesey's pew the next Sunday, and Amelia missed 
 him. She looked across from her own seat, but no 
 dark eyes met her friendly glance. She did not speak 
 of it until night ; then, as she stood by her father in 
 the evening hour, she said, 
 
 "I did not see Jotham to-day." 
 
 Mr. Tracy thought a moment, and then said, 
 
 "Amelia, you know I place great confidence in 
 you. I think I can tell you what I have heard to- 
 day." 
 
 Then he narrated the story which Miss Jordan had 
 told to him. He expected to see the girl's counte- 
 nance sadden, but, instead of that, a smile crossed 
 her lips, and her eyes gladdened. 
 
 "Then he didn't come from B place at all, 
 
 father? I'm so glad. That place is so low that I 
 never would tell my friends what part of the city
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 261 
 
 he came from. I am glad it is B street. You 
 
 know we were there once. It is a pretty place." 
 
 " But I thought, Amelia, that you would be sad to 
 hear of his misconduct." 
 
 " So I am, father; but you say bad boys led him 
 astray, and I have heard you say that many bad boys 
 have reformed and become good men. I do not 
 believe he is very bad." 
 
 Mr. Tracy smiled. "Well, Amelia, we shall see. 
 I have always felt a strong interest in him. Miss 
 Jordan had prepared a letter to send to his sister. 
 I have it here. I shall add a few words, and send 
 it to-morrow. Then we shall know more about it. 
 But where he can be now puzzles me. I imagine 
 he could not work so hard as he was required to, 
 and has gone to seek his fortune in some other place. 
 We must try to find him." 
 
 "You're a good papa," said the girl. "You are 
 always doing good for somebody. I know where 
 he's gone." 
 
 "Where, my child?' 
 
 "Home." 
 
 The minister mused a moment, and then added, 
 "It is possible. I hope so. I wonder, yes, it 
 may be."
 
 262 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HOME. 
 RRl 
 
 LETTER from grandmother!" shouted Har- 
 
 \ 
 
 ry Wilson, rushing into the house one pleas- 
 ant morning. " She wishes you and I were 
 there, Annette. The cherry-trees are red with ripe 
 fruit; the blueberries and raspberries are waiting to 
 be picked; the pond-lilies are in blossom, and she 
 wants us." 
 
 "No," said Annette? "no, I don't want to go. I 
 should be so lonely without Jotham. It would seem 
 so desolate." 
 
 " But you know, Annette, Jotham was always 
 making trouble there. If you and I go, we'd have 
 a quiet time. But grandmother says, why can't we 
 shut up the house, and all come, father and mother 
 with us ? " 
 
 " No," said the mother, " I'll never shut this house
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 263 
 
 till Jotham comes, unless the Lord puts me into a 
 narrow one." 
 
 "He won't come," said Harry. "He's off to sea, 
 somewhere, and we might as well go. Grandmother 
 wants us, and we ought to make grandmother 
 happy." 
 
 "That is true," said Mrs. Wilson. "You and 
 Annette can go. I think you had better." 
 "It will be so lonely," said Annette. 
 " Don't think of that," responded the mother. 
 " Think of grandmother. Think how kind she was 
 when you were sick." 
 
 "I know it, mother; I'll go." 
 " Good ! " shouted Harry. " Let us go to-morrow." 
 "We will go day after to-morrow. The vacation 
 is half gone, but we can stay a fortpight." 
 
 Harry marched off triumphantly, and began his 
 preparations. Annette wrote a note to her grand- 
 mother, and, on the clay appointed, they left their 
 home. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were alone. The house 
 seemed voiceless, and Jotham came often between 
 them as a subject of conversation. Mr. Wilson was 
 much softer toward him than at first. His anger 
 had changed to anxiety. He had- witnessed the
 
 264 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 mother's sorrow over her elder son, and he had 
 sorrowed himself. 
 
 " Sometimes I think I was wrong," he said, one 
 day, sitting at his lonely dinner. "If Jotham should 
 ever come back, I would try a different course. I 
 would win him by love. I would spend more time 
 with him. I would treat him with courtesy. I 
 would not command him as though he were a 
 menial, I would speak to him as to one about to 
 enter the same world of duties as myself. I would 
 hold before him noble purposes. I would fill him 
 with high aims, and by personal communion I would 
 help him to advance." 
 
 These sentiments led Mr. Wilson to intimate com- 
 panionship with Harry, and he was surprised to 
 find how maturely a boy could think and reason. 
 He began to see that an impetuous, high-spirited 
 boy like Jotham could not be suppressed. His na- 
 ture must have vent, and ought to have been 
 directed to some proper opening where his ardent 
 impulses could expand into usefulness; but, failing 
 of such guidance, the boyish elasticity must rebound 
 in its own untrained way. Now that it was too 
 late, Mr. Wilson saw what he might have done for 
 the absent boy. The horse was stolen, and now
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 265 
 
 he was busily preparing a lock and key for the 
 stable. 
 
 Annette and Harry arrived safely at their grand- 
 father's. The evening was warm and they came in 
 quietly, for there was no Jotham speaking pom- 
 pously, laying all things under tribute for his own 
 benefit. 
 
 " Dear children," said grandmother, caressing them 
 as she used to do when their flaxen heads scarce 
 reached to her waist. Now the old lady reached 
 up, instead of down, to kiss Annette's cheek, and 
 Harry was rapidly rising to the same height. 
 
 They talked long of Jotham that night, and though 
 they were very happy in grandfather's some, yet, 
 as Annette had predicted, the brother's absence 
 threw a shade over their enjoyments. 
 
 "Where could he be? Was he alive? Would he 
 ever come home?" 
 
 These were questions asked, but not answered. 
 Grandmother was sleepless that night. She was 
 trying to devise some means of hearing from the 
 truant. She thought of advertising; but his father 
 had objected to that. His pride had revolted. How 
 then could they learn of him? Grandfather said, 
 "Let him go till he is ready to come back. Then
 
 266 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 he will behave himself." But grandmother longed to 
 hear from him, and prayed earnestly that the good 
 Lord would restore him to his own home, to truth, 
 to honor, and to peace. 
 
 The night wore away to its depths. The air was 
 still, the birds were slumbering. A refreshing cool- 
 ness breezed over the hills and came in at the 
 windows left open by the sleepers. Grandmother 
 thought she heard a sound outside. She arose and 
 looked from the window, but there was nothing 
 visible. The grass lay smooth beneath the sky, 
 the stars glimmered, and the zephyrs gently stirred. 
 
 " How lovely are Thy works ! " said the old lady, 
 looking up, reverently; and then she retired again 
 to think of Him who ruleth all things so wisely 
 and so well. 
 
 And, during all this time, where was Jotham? 
 
 He went out from Mr. Higglesey's that morning 
 with a feeling of desperation. It seemed to him 
 that he had hardly fallen asleep when Mr. Higgle- 
 sey called him, and he was utterly exhausted. He 
 could scarcely walk the day before, and how could 
 he arise now at this early hour, and work all day 
 through the hours of burning, when the hot sun 
 took away the strength of even strong men? He
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 2C7 
 
 heard Mr. Higglesey's last words. " Don't come 
 back till you have found the cow," and went out. 
 
 Wearily he traversed the pasture and the woods, 
 searched the adjacent fields, looked behind fences 
 and rocks; but there was no cow. Then he sat 
 down by a raspberry-bush, and, plucking the sweet 
 fruit, ate and thought. 
 
 " What shall I do?" was his first question. " Shall 
 I go back without the cow? Mr. Higglesey will be 
 cross, and so will Mrs. Higglesey. She used to be 
 kind, last winter; now she frets at me every day. 
 If I go back I shall have to work the whole day 
 long, every moment, and I can hardly stand, now. 
 Besides, Be told me not to come back till I had 
 found the cow ; but I can't find her. I didn't lose her, 
 why should I fiud her?" 
 
 When he had picked all the raspberries within his 
 reach, he leaned languidly down upon a tuft of moss, 
 and was soon asleep. The breezes played across 
 his brow, and the hot sun shone upon him as the 
 hours passed away, but he did not awake. Nature 
 was asserting her rights. When he awoke the sun 
 was in mid-heaven. He rubbed his eyes and sat 
 up in bewilderment; but presently consciousness 
 returned, and he recalled the events of the morn-
 
 268 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 ing. He was far back in the pasture, in an opening 
 of the woods. No human being was near. Should 
 he go back to the house he called his home? He 
 thought of Mr. Tracy and Amelia, of Miss Jordan's 
 kindness, and resolved to return; but then, over- 
 powering all, came the vision of the hard, old man, 
 with the iron-gray hair; the broad, brown woman, 
 and their anger at the loss of the cow. 
 
 "Why, they can't bear the loss of a cent!" he 
 mused. "They'll half kill me if they lose a cow." 
 
 In this indecision he once more arose, and saun- 
 tered listlessly through the woods. He scanned the 
 recesses in search of the lost animal, but his mind 
 was occupied with other subjects. He was thinking 
 of Miss Jordan's advice. 
 
 "Oh, dear!" he moaned, suddenly, "I've a mind 
 to go home. I wonder if father would be cross? 
 Miss Jordan said he would be like the father of 
 the prodigal son, and I am the prodigal son him- 
 self. How I look ! An old straw hat with a hole in 
 the brim, a colored shirt, a pair of blue overalls, 
 no stockings, old shoes! What would father say to 
 me? I ought to go to the house and get my new 
 clothes, but I can't. Mr. Higglesey would be angry 
 with me for being gone so long, and no cow yet.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 269 
 
 They are cross enough by this time, I warrant. No, 
 I'll not go near them. Miss Jordan says I ought 
 to go home and begin a new life. She says I can 
 live so nobly, and so grandly, that people will for- 
 get I have ever done wrong. She says I must 
 have a high purpose to do right; that I can become 
 an honor to my parents, and an honor to God. Can 
 I ? How late it is ! It must be afternoon. I won- 
 der what they're doing at the house?" 
 
 Distracted by conflicting emotions he walked very 
 much as the frog leaped from the well, two steps 
 one way, one step back again ; but ever the two steps 
 were further from Mr. Higglesey's, the one step 
 toward ; and therefore he slowly progressed till he 
 reached the borders of the farm. Here he leaped 
 the fence aud stood upon another man's land. From 
 that moment he was free. First he ran, then he 
 walked, crossing other fauces, till he came to a 
 highway which he was confident would take him 
 home. 
 
 People met him in the street, and thought he was 
 some strolling vagabond. He saw them stare at 
 him, and became conscious that, although his ap- 
 parel might answer for the hay-field of Mr. Higgle- 
 sey, on the high road it gave him the appearance
 
 270 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 of being a beggar. Shame caused him to droop 
 
 his head. Besides, he was very hungry. Once 
 
 ( 
 more he was upon the road, penniless. But now it 
 
 was summer. He could sleep in the fields, if needs 
 be, and to-morrow he would reach home. There 
 he would go down on his knees in penitence, and 
 would implore forgiveness. 
 
 Thus he walked on, but as he went, and realized 
 that he was drawing nearer to the ordeal, that he 
 must meet his father's sternness and answer the 
 thousand questions that would be asked him, he 
 paused again. There was a bend in the road just 
 there, and a huge rock jutted out in the corner. 
 He passed behind the rock, picked a few blueber- 
 ries which were growing on bushes between the 
 ledges, crawled under the rocky shelf, and looked 
 out upon the setting sun. It was going down in 
 splendor, and its last rays found him in his nook. 
 The summer evening hum lulled his senses to quiet. 
 
 "Everything is happy but me," he said. "Why 
 is it? I know. Because everything but me does 
 right. If I had done right, I, too, should be 
 happy." 
 
 Then a little voice whispered, " Begin now. 
 Tray."
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 271 
 
 He started. He thought he heard his grandmother's 
 voice. That was almost the last word she had ever 
 said to him, and now his imagination heard it re- 
 peated with startling distinctness, " Pray." 
 
 He looked in the sky for a moment, and out from 
 the red sunset gleams came visions. The good 
 within him struggled with the evil. The contest 
 was severe, but the discipline of the months through 
 which he had passed had strengthened him, and the 
 good triumphed. He turned his back to the sun, 
 faced the darkness of the little cave behind him, 
 knelt, and prayed. Such an outpouring of soul he 
 had never known before. He continued thus a long 
 time, till darkness enshrouded him; then, laying his 
 head upon the rock where he had knelt, he fell 
 asleep. 
 
 He awoke in the morning with new thoughts. 
 He would uot go home, but would go to his grand- 
 mother's. Her voice had called him, her face was 
 before him. But it was a long way, and he had no 
 money. Then he remembered that in "hay -time" 
 farmers were often glad of extra help, and he started 
 forth. At the first house he made his application; 
 but they wanted no boys. The second attempt also 
 failed; but at the third he succeeded, lie told a
 
 272 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 part of his story, and worked here two days. He 
 had a kind master, and an abundance of nourishing 
 food. At the end of the second day he received 
 his money, the first he had looked upon since he 
 left his home. 
 
 The next morning he sought a depot, and was 
 borne to his grandmother's town. Indecision again 
 came parleying, deterring him from his purpose; 
 but with a vigorous thrust he pushed it back, looked 
 up to God, and said, "I will go." He lingered about 
 in the corners, waiting for the darkness to hide his 
 rags, then started for the quiet farm. It was late 
 when he reached the house. There was no light; 
 but he knew his grandmother's window, and stealthily 
 approached it, under the shadow of the projecting 
 roof. 
 
 This was the noise which attracted the good 
 woman's attention as she lay thinking of her lost 
 grandson. He heard her come to the window, 
 but then his courage failed, and he shrank back. She 
 saw him not. Then she returned to her bed, and 
 all was still again. He waited, but heard no sound. 
 Noiselessly he crept to the window and looked in. 
 Her eyes were open, and she saw the falling shadow.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 273 
 
 "What can it be?" she asked herself. "There 
 is certainly some one there." 
 
 Once more she hastened to the window, but the 
 timid boy drew back again. She was not to be 
 foiled, however, and, throwing up the sash, she 
 looked out. There he stood, with the old straw 
 hat pushed down over his face, and his eyes droop- 
 ing. She did not know him. 
 
 "Who are you?" she asked, sternly. "What are 
 you doing here?" 
 
 A faint sigh escaped him, and she knew the 
 sound. Her heart told her, and thrusting forth 
 her arm, she grasped him. 
 
 "Jotham!" she said, hurriedly. "Jotham! Is 
 this you?" 
 
 " Yes, grandmother," was the faint response. 
 
 She did not scream, for she was a woman of 
 strong common sense, but she drew him suddenly 
 to the window, pushed the old hat from his fore- 
 head, looked in his face and said, 
 
 "My Jotham! I knew you would come back. 
 And you have come to grandmother first. You 
 have done right. Grandmother will befriend you. 
 Come in, now. I will open the door. Come in, 
 darling. The dove has come back to its cote.
 
 274 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 Come in and tell me where you have been all this 
 time. Annette aiid Harry are sleeping upstairs. 
 Come to the door, and I will let you in." 
 
 The sound of their voices awoke grandfather. 
 
 "Who's there?" he called, but grandmother could 
 not pause for a reply. She hastened to the door, 
 and when the old gentleman arrived there also, he 
 saw the boy clasped in his grandmother's arms, 
 while tears of joy were raining from her cheeks. 
 Jotham could not speak. So much shame min- 
 gled with his happiness, that it was not easy to 
 answer the many questions which came in a breath. 
 
 There was little sleep in the house that night, 
 and never afterward could Jotham recall the scene 
 without thrills of gratitude and joy. He was at 
 home and at rest. When he had answered their 
 questions, he asked one in return, 
 
 "Will father forgive me?" 
 
 " Yes, my child," replied the grandmother. 
 " Think you he has no longings to see the son 
 from whom he hoped so much?" 
 
 Then they told him of Annette's sickness, and 
 of their impression that he had gone to sea. But 
 finally, grandmother changed the subject suddenly.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 275 
 
 "Are these such clothes as you wore, Jotham?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, I worked in them." 
 
 "You must not be seen in these. You will be 
 tired to-morrow morning. Sleep till your grand- 
 father can go up town. He must buy you a suit. 
 God be praised that you are here ! Henceforth may 
 your life be such as shall fill your parents with 
 pride, and cause your soul to grow in knowledge 
 and in the love of God." 
 
 Then the boy told them of Miss Jordan, and con- 
 fessed the manner in which he had left, and grand- 
 mother said, " The Lord sent you such a friend. 
 To-morrow I will write to your father." 
 
 " Plead for me, grandmother," said Jotham. 
 
 "I have no need," she answered. "Your father 
 will receive you with a loving welcome, and you 
 must prove to him by your conduct that you are 
 worthy his forgiveness. You will no longer have 
 to contend with those boys who tempted you. 
 They brought disgrace upon their father, com- 
 mitted crimes which took half his property to keep 
 them from prison, and now they are all gone West. 
 Father and sons went off together, for Mr. Thomp- 
 son was proud, and would not stay where so much 
 disgrace had fallen upon him."
 
 276 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 The next day two letters came to Mr. Wilson at 
 his business office in the city. One was directed to 
 Annette, but he opened it, for he was sure she 
 would not object. It was from Miss Jordan. The 
 other was from his mother. With the two letters 
 he went home, and then there was joy in that 
 house. 
 
 Never again was Mr. Wilson ashamed of his son. 
 Nevermore did Jotham walk in those crooked paths 
 which lead to sorrow. The ordeal through which 
 he had passed served as a life-time warning. The 
 prayer which he had offered under that shelving 
 rock unlocked his heart, and it went upward with 
 a glow which never again was lost. He learned to 
 trust in God, and his future path was upward. 
 
 He passed through many trials on his return to 
 Ms home; but these only developed his mental 
 strength yet more. His companions scoffed him 
 at first; but when they found that he returned to 
 his studies quietly, going to and fro with a deter- 
 mined purpose; that week by week and month by 
 month he kept his even course, gaining the confi- 
 dence of his teacher, caring not for the temptations 
 around him, but thinking only how he might re- 
 trieve the past and rise in the future, those who
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 277 
 
 had laughed began to respect him, and to see that 
 an earnest purpose can accomplish all things. 
 
 He did not forget Miss Jordan, nor Mr. Tracy, 
 nor Amelia; nor did they forget him. A pleasant 
 intimacy was established. Annette and Miss Jordan 
 became loving friends, Mr. Tracy came to Jotham's 
 home, and in after years Jotham went to Mr. 
 Tracy's home, for Amelia was there, and she was 
 not ashamed to call him her friend. 
 
 Only one thing troubled Mr. and Mrs. Higglesey. 
 Mr. Wilson demanded pay for the months during 
 which his son had toiled for them ; and, when they 
 were compelled, they put the money in his hands 
 with many groans. So much was taken from their 
 next intended instalment for the bank. 
 
 Jotham sat quietly with Annette one day, rehears- 
 ing some of the scenes of his absence, when she 
 remarked, 
 
 "All is atoned for, now, Jotham." 
 
 " Not all," he answered. " When we have done 
 wrong, we cannot make all things right, can we ? " 
 
 " We can leave it with God to make all right," 
 she replied, meekly. 
 
 " But, Annette," he continued, ',' there is one thing 
 that has always worried me. I have thought of it
 
 278 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 
 
 when I have been alone, by day and by night. It 
 is of Joseph, who lost his place by my means. He 
 seemed so honest. I did not see him, you know ; but 
 the sound of his pleading voice has always haunted 
 me." 
 
 " Couldn't you find the place, so we could hear 
 about him?" asked Annette. 
 
 "No, Annette, I couldn't. I didn't know where I 
 went. I didn't know the name of the town, and I 
 couldn't find him." 
 
 "I am sorry," Annette added. 
 
 "I shall never forget it," returned Jotham. "If 
 I could only find him, I would ask father to give 
 him all I earned at Mr. Higglesey's. He ought ta 
 have it," 
 
 He did find him afterwards, and of this we will 
 speak ere we close. 
 
 Jotham had been home a year when he stepped 
 into a hardware store to purchase some article for 
 his mother's use; and while there he noticed a boy 
 of his own age, and heard the merchant call him 
 Joseph. Something in the tone of the lad's voice 
 seemed familiar, and Jotham looked at him closely. 
 He could never hear the name Joseph without 
 thought of that barn and the stolen apple.
 
 THE CROOK STRAIGHTENED. 279 
 
 Upon his return he told Annette he was sure he 
 had found Joseph. He was sure it was the same 
 voice he had so distinctly heard deny all knowledge 
 of the apple. Inquiries were made, and Jotham was 
 delighted to know he was right; and afterwards, 
 when he had confessed to the injured boy, and re- 
 ceived his forgiveness, he was happy, especially as 
 he learned that what at first appeared an injury, 
 proved a blessing, being the means of his finding 
 his present situation, which was far superior to that 
 he lost. 
 
 Then Annette said, "You see, Jotham, that by 
 walking in the straight path of truth Joseph was 
 blessed, and He who sees all things gave him his 
 reward. So you, leaving crooked paths, and going 
 steadily in the ways of virtue, will find, ere long, 
 that you, too, will be equally blessed, for thus will 
 the Crook become Straightened."
 
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