The Plymouth Democrat. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1869-1941, 1870-10-20

GOING ON TRIAL,

"WELL, l don't know, Squire Linton, I'd
be willing to go and keep house for you
few days." said the widow, PLAYING ner-
vOusly with the gate latch. 81 know
you're ina pitiful plight with SO many
young children and no head. I'd be willin z
10 60 for a few days to accommodate you ;
but, to tell the plain truth, I an expectin 2
call tonight from Mr. Means, of NAL
burg, and"
Indeed-oh, / wasn't aware Don't
let me detai1 you another minute" said
Squire Linton, hurriedly. dive taken I'D
too much of your time already"
"No, indeed" returned the widow,
twisting her handkerchief; al was only
going to say promised to see Mr.. Means
to-day; but THAT is to say-I can tell
you better tomorrow"
No, no; it Is too great a favor
ought not to ask i'll won't ask it, Mrs.
Whslen," sighed Squire Linton, wonder
ing secretly what business should bring
the wealthy Mr.. Means, of Maiburg, all
the way to Durham.
But he was such meek, self renounc-
ing man that he never dreamed of pressing
his own claim any farther and hastily
drawing up his reins, drove away,
approaching himself for intruding his for
lOrn necessity, and making q draught
upon the widows sympathy.
poor dear soul" thought Mrs. Whslen,
gazing sitter him half regretfully; eff he
had said another word | should have
gone; couldn't have held out against
his pleading But there, it's Just as we'll,
l suppose. Mr.. Means will be along scOu.
l wonder what he looks ike. 1fey say
he stands very high; but as l never saw
the man, of course 1 can't make up Iny
mind what to say to him yet"
Before Squire Linton was half way
back to his '' headless home with his
losves of bakers bread and ginger bread,
and Jumps Of IRONY butter, the widow
was standing opposite the little square
window in her bed room, tying tae strings
OF her new lavender cap. What she had
remarked 10 herself Was perfectly true
she had rot made up her mind what she
would say to Mr.. Means: a great deal
would depend upon what hs should say
20 her.
the little sitting room down stairs. Mrs.
Whslen, / supposes l am Israel Means,
of Malburg- Hope I see you we'll
ms'am?"
"Rather a good looking man, now, /
am sure" thought the smiling widow, of
fering him q chair, "a little countrifed,
perhaps; but what of that ="
Middlin' warm weather, ma'am,"
added Mr.. Means, with an admiring
glance at his hostess, whose personal
"Just the weather for cheese, and no
weather at all tor butter"
So l should think, sir. Have fan ?"
oot1 M-a Xha1a, har ,an,1fh loeb
if butter wouldn't melt in it even in dog
days.
MRS. Whalen !" said Mr.. Means, &C.
cepting the fan, and with it the right
thumb of the somewhat embarrassed lady
=" Mrs Whalenr'
the words were nothing, but the tone
was portentous. The widow wished she
had kept the fan; she began to feel the
need Of a breath of air.
"Mrs. Whalen, suppose you may be-
aware, ma'am, that I-ahem-called witt
view to"
Mr.. Means made q double period,
looked up to the ceiling for the rest of the
sentence, and not finding it flashing out
there as in the days Of Belshazzar, bent
an appealing glance to the widow, who
was certainly in no state to help him out.
"Ahi OhT" she faltered, while her
comely brunette face showed fine com
hna;ion of solterino and bismarck. "Ohl
Ahp
Mr.. Means saw the betraying color with
his quick gray eyes.
"HaDg It'll" said he to himself; "the
woman needn't take me up before / get
the words out Of my mOuthp "Mrs
Whalen, 1 suppose you may be aware
ma'am, that cdued-snybody with pair
of eyes in their head can see I've called
No Ottense, / hope. l was coming UP
this way, and Moses, my nephew, kind o
put it in my head that I'd better DROP
In"
"Yes. sir" was the faint reply.
Was this all he meant, then? And here
she had been expecting-Oh, Moses
Pitcher, the blsck-eyed piece of mischief
Couldn't he be in better business thar
going round to widows houses, making
believe Old uncles we're coming to oifel
themselves? Moses was a pitcher with
large ears and very large mouth. HI
hsd heard more than his uncle had eve
said, and told great deal more than b,
heard. And now, deceived by his speciou
hints, she had gone and bought lavende
ribbon and hem stitch handkerchief
Would she ever hear the last of it from
sister Dorcas?
Before Mr.. Means had wiped his fac,
and rubbed up another idea, the war;
widow had united her cap-strings. Sh
didn't see the sense Of streaking then
with perspiration for man that had on].
dropped in"
"GoOd weather for cheese, as you wer
remarking, Mr.. Means" said she, in ton
as stiff as icing, but with nearly as muc
reserve sweetness. "Do you keep g larg
dairy, sir ?"
"NOt so very" returned Mr.. Mean!
some " hat treasured by this allusion I
business. 81 have only six COWS that
milk this summer, and expec. to max
beef of one of them come another sprinI
/ calculate to dry her up and put her IA
ting sometime along late In the fall. Let
see-you ever been used to the care
miikY
The widow tied her csp-strings.
"Oh, yes" said she. cspably; 81 WI
bro1ght up on farm"
want to know Then you understsn
all about the work. How GO you like 1T
asked Mr.. Means, moving his chair q trif
nearer the widow overlooking the veg
tatle garden. by which Mrs. Whslen sat
"Work is work. | always like an,
thing have to do" returned the widow
CURLY.
Ever made any cheese I"
Mrs. Whslen laughed at the weakne
Of the question.
"Cheese is rather my strong point
said she, with dignity.
"Ah Howis 1t about butter Geners
" had pretty good luck with thats" COZ