Delaware tribune. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1867-1877, 1869-07-22

the deacon, cutting up the poor woman
dinner, with tender care, and holding crisT
bit Of the emerald pickle to her mouth on ,
fork.
''She boils them in the brass kettle, spoke
up Joseph, as knowing as Professor Blot.
Mrs. Ketchum pushed back the mouthfu
from her very lips.
"Popsop," she cried in tone of horror
| POISON, grandma am? | guess not
Brass never was favorite of yours fol
cooking, was it? Well, let's try some o.
these pickled radishes. They don't look toe
green, anyhow, returned the deacon, will
cheerful patience.
"Joseph is mistaken. Mother doesn't
green her pickles in brass, either. She
wouldn't think of doing such thing in
terposed Paulina, aroused from her perplex-
ed thoughts. "What do you mean by tell
ing such story, Joe?'
''See her do it" persisted Joe. "Now you
may just ask her when she gets home"
This was enough Mrs. Ketchums sickly
nerves had taken alright, and she could be
persuaded to taste neither pickles or any
thing else. She didn't dare eat after a per-
son who it was likely cooked in brass. So
she sat up like some grim fate, dumb and
motionless, through the rest of the meal.
"What does possess Joe ? He can't do
anything without laundering, thought Pau
lima, looking across the table at her brother,
who was sure enough to need looking at.
'Joe, )" said she, show awkwardly you
hold your fork. Don't grab it that way, or
ever turn up the tines unless you are using
it like spoon.
sim holding my fork just zackly like
Deacon Ketchum is his. What do you
mean ?" blurted out Joe.
Paulina tried TO give him sistcrly look
of warning and reproof
"What are you twisting up your mouth
at me for p continued he, by way of making
very bad matter very great deal worse
at is a pity there is no way of having
men without having boys! Boys arc such
nuisances And they arc not good for any
thing :" exclaimed Paulina, with mixture
of confusion and Indignation.
"Boys will be boys, and they must go
through their run at it as much as the meas
els, replied Deacon Ketchum, who, between
care for his wife, interest in his own plate of
dried fish and cream, and natural obtusepess,
was serenely unconscious Of any possible
criticism Of his own table manners.
The dinner and the day dragged heavily
by, and after an early tea, Deacon Ketchum
and his wife set off to continue on what lie
called their "t0Wer."
"Our calculation is to put up tonight
with Mr.. Willard, over to Logtown. His
first wife was some related to me-a kind
of elbow cousin,' remarked the deacon
casually, after he had clambered in his rusty
chaise and gathered up his reins for start
ing chirrup.
As he spoke, Paulna's thoughts flew like
fire on prairie. II she could only send
some message that would be proper to send
some message that Herman would take as
an apology, and yet, by which the Ketch-
ums would not understand their invitation
to be an accident. II she had only known
sooner Of this opportunity, she might have
managed a note possibly.
The deacon is already tapping his reins
and calling out "Cadep ," And his wife
is already shutting her eyes, as she always
does during journey. Think faster,
Paulina!
"Tell Mr.. Wizards people it is almost
cherry time" cried she desperately, feeling
as though her wits were leaving her, as the
old sorrel horse began to shake his white
legs preparatory to starting, and remember
ing of sudden some girlish invitation she
had some time given Herman about coming
to get cherries in their season.
''Gob-bob !" called back Mrs. Ketch-
um as the chaisc trundled clumsily
away, leaving Paulina to wonder if
her message weren't worse than
none. With reason, as she would have
thought, had she followed 1t to Its delivery.
'Oh, what was 1t, grandma a'am-that ar
rant Brays girl sent about Mr.. Wizards
folks going over there after cherries?" asked
Dtas'h thC uCAb tHOlHiI at UItth-
fast. ''Thc horse was getting uneasy to start,
and didn't really make it out.
Mrs Ketchum replied with unusual vehe-
mence, in her inarticulatc way.
What, grandma am What do you say p
returned her husband in wonder ''Muytn't
go 10 dinner9 Why, you are excited, grand
ma'am. You don't forget those pickles, |
expect"
The Willard family started in polite sur
prise, but at that instant neighbor Haywood
came in through the kitchen to ask for the
farmers hay cutter, and The subject dropped,
not to be taken up again. So the robins, in
stead of the Wizards, ate Mr.. Bray s cher
ries.
Peaches came after cherries, and peaches
had already given place TO grapcs-iul juic- |
ed, purple Isabellas-hefore the huofs Of far
mcr Willard.s brown horse sounded again
in Shawley. This time he was driven, as be- |
fore, by the farmers brown-hauded son,
Herman, who had taken that road on his |
way home from somewhere, instead of the |
nearer one that turned off at ''the Corners" |
bu. without confessing to himself any reason
for the choice.
And it was just as the dust of his wheels |
was flying on the l-slde, and the horses
hoofs were Gathering over the little red
bridge, that the untimely Josepa, with But
ton jumping and barking at his heels, began
to Hap his arms on the bank-wall in front of |
his fathers door, and cry out in imitation of
roosters answering each other from neigh
boring farm-yards--
"Women rule h.e-r-c." says the first.
$50 they do h-e-r-e!n proclaims the
second.
so they do everywhere. !" aflirms
he third.
And with that, Joe, stretching his neck
and Tapping his arms with extra violence.
eaped from the wall in the very face of the
'rown horse. As anything would have
oreseen, excepting dog, or boy who
night have been own brother to the dog
or all the use he made of his brains, the
,orse made nervous start sideway, break