The Story of a Country Town

by E. W. Howe

“I don’t want you to help me, father,” he said, “though I am glad you offer to, for now I know you have confidence in me. I intend to help you, after I become a miller, instead of permitting you to help me. I am sorry I never talked to you about it before; you know more about it than any of them.”

“I have thought about your mill a great deal,” was his reply, “and have great hope that you will turn out a better man than your father. I have never amounted to much; both of you know that, but you have a better start. It is poor enough; you can imagine what mine was, and you know more than I did at your age. I have lived all my life in places where men were not expected to amount to much, and were satisfied if they did not. It seems to be different now.”

What a dull country he must have lived in, to have thought Fairview superior to it!

“I think you ought to build your house where this one stands,” he said. “I have planted a number of trees around it for you, and I hope that when you are grown up, your happy children may play under their shade. It is a pretty place here, and it is but a few rods to the best point for a mill. I have more confidence in you than any one else. I would help you if I could.”

Jo was greatly affected by this kindness, and as an excuse to get out of doors, fearing he would be weak enough to cry if he remained there, suggested that we get dinner. The idea was not a bad one, after we came to think more of it, and we soon had it under way.

My grandfather pretended not to know what we were about, but I saw him looking frequently into the kitchen, where we were, and when it was declared ready, he tried to be greatly surprised. There was a number of young chickens running around, and we had taken two of these, intending to leave word for Gran that the hawks had been about, and that the mice had been in the pickles and preserves. The dinner was Jo’s best effort, and, being familiar with everything his father was fond of, he succeeded in making him very good natured.

“It is just such a dinner as I can enjoy,” he said, when he sat down to it. “You seem to be able to do everything, Jo, but I hope you will get out of the way, for these Jacks are said to be able to make everything except money. I depend on you to distinguish your family; there is no one else to do it, and we come of a long line of very common folks. I enjoy your dinner, but I am sorry you can cook so well; really, I am sorry. I could cook when I was of your age, and I could cut hair, and I never amounted to anything. You should get out of the way.”

His good nature continued until after the meal was concluded, and until we went away, for when we had returned to the front room again, he asked Jo and me to sing camp-meeting songs to him while he smoked, which we cheerfully did, imitating the singers in gestures, hand-shaking, shouting, and so on, which was an accomplishment we had to be very careful in exhibiting. Then we made prayers and speeches representing The. Meek, Mr. Winter, and the miller’s sister, and sang the hymn through our noses, commencing, “Hark, from the tomb, a doleful sound,” all of which so pleased my grandfather that he laughed and roared, and pounded the floor with his stick, and declared that we were equal to a “show.” When we said in the course of the afternoon that we must go, he replied that he sincerely regretted it, as he had never enjoyed himself so well before, and made us promise that we would come back every Sunday in the future when Gran was away, and have an equally good time. We both shook hands with him at parting—for the first time in our lives, I think—and rode away waving adieus.

. . . . .

The Shepherds lived on the other side of Big Creek woods, on the high divide between Big Creek and Bull River, in a house originally dingy enough, but which had been wonderfully transformed by their living in it. The people said enough money had been spent in repairing it to build a house large enough for three, and it was furnished throughout in a style very unusual in that country, although it was no more than comfortable.