Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1860-07-11
WIDOW coBB's FIRST LOVE.
BY MARY W. 8. GIBse.

The hre cracked cheeyfully on the broad
hearth of the old farm house kitchen, cat and
three kittens l,asked in the warmth, and de-
crepid yellow dog lying full in the reflection
of the blaze, wrinkled his black nose appro
vingiy, ms he turned his hind feet where his
fore feet had been. Over the chimney hung
several fine hams and pieces of dried beet.
Apples were fastened along the ceiling, and
crooked necked squashes Wed with red pep
pers and slips of dried pumpkins, in garnish-
ing each windoW frame. There were plants,
toe, on the window ledges-horse-s e-shoe gera-
niums. and dew plants, and monthly rose
just blooming, to say nothing of pots OF vicl@ts
that perfumcd ths whole place whenever they
took it into their purple heads TO bloom. The
floor WAS carefully swept-the chairs had not
II speck of dirt upon leg or round-the long
settee near the fire e-place stone as if it had
lieen just newly vanished, and the eight day
clock in the corner had had its face newly
washed, and seemed determined to tick loud
or for il. Two arm chairs were drawn up at
cozy distance from the hearth and each other,
u candle, newspaper, pair of spectacles,
dish of red checked apples and pitcher of
cider, filled little table between them. In
unc of these chairs sat comfortable looking
woman about forty five, with cheeks as red as
The apples, and eyes dark as they had ever
been, resting her elbow on the table, and her
head upon her hand, and looking thoughtfully
into the fire. This was Widow Cobb-srelic'
of Deacon Levi Cobb. who had been moulder
ing into dust in the Bytown churchyard for
more than seven years. She was thinking of
her dead husband, possibly because-ail her
work being done and the servants gone to bed
the sight of his empty chair at the other
side of the table, and the silence of the room !,
made her little lonely.
"Seven years." so the widows reverie ran.
alt seems as if it were more than fifty-and
yet don't look so very old either. Perhaps
its not having any children to bother my life
as other people have. They may say what
they like-children are more plague than prof
it--tbat's my opinion. Look at my sister Je-
rusha, with her six boys. She's worn to a
shadow and I'm sure they have done it, though
she never will own it.''
The widow took an spple from the dish and
began to peel it.
s.iiow dreadful fond Mr.. Cobb used to be of
these gratis. He never will eat any more OF
them, poor fellow, for don't suppose they
have apples where he has gone. Heigho
remember very well how used to throw ap-
Pile bearings over my head when was girl,
to see who l was going to marry"
Mrs. Cobb stopped short and blushed. For
in those days she did not know Mr.. Cobb.
and was always looking eagerly to see II the
peel had formed capital 'sS." Her medita.
tions took new turn.
SHOW handsome Sam PaysOn was and how
much used to care about him. l wonder
what has become OF him Jerusha says he went
away from our village just after did and nc
one has ever heard of him since. And what q
silly thing that quarrel was If it had moi
been for that
Here came a long pause, during which the
widow looked very steadfastly at the empty
armchair of Levi Cobb, deceased. Her fin.
gers played carelessly with the apple pairing
she drew II softly towards her, and looked
around the room.
"Upon my word it is very ridiculous, and !
don't know what the neighbors would say il
they saw me.''
Still the plump fingers drew the red peel
nearer and nearer.
"But then they can't see me, that's com.
fort, and the cat and Old Bowse never will
know what il means. OF course don't be.
lieve anything about it.''
The pairing hung gracefully from her hand.
"But then should like to try it it would
seem like old times, and"
Over her head it went and curled up quietly
ON the floor al little distance. Old Bowse