Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1870-10-28
STRATAGEM IN LOVE.

MRS WOODCoCK sat in the middle of the
room, with her feet on the rung of her
chair, and her fingers in her ears.
~ like to hear thunder well enough; l
don't know but what | do. / am not
afraid of that. But be some scarf of the
Lightning" said she, starting as the
heavens blazed over with sheet of flame
in instant glory, with crash and roar
that found its way through her fat fingers
and through two wads of pink cotton,
bursting on her ear like the trump of doom.
Mercy on mel" shrieked Mrs. Wood
cock, "that struck Now you may rely
upon it, as true as you are living creature,
that struck p
Mr.. Spofford's old sorrel horse, the only
living creature in sight, made no reply, but
kept on nibbling away at the white clover
on the green before the door, He only
turned his back to the driving rain, that
flew from west to east so fast and SO heavy
that it was more like bank of fog than
moving drops of water and gave pass
ing shiver when the rainfall changed to
hail, and ratified down in stones as large as
birds eggs.
But Mrs. Woodcock was above the blind
trust of the beast; so, pale and trembling,
she pressed her hands tighter over her
ears, and looked at a spiders web in the
darkest corner of the room as steadfastly
as if she were sitting for her photograph.
The thunder growled itself to sleep at
last, the lightning flashed itself away, and
the sun broke out like sudden smile on a
babys face. Still the unconscious Mrs.
Woodcock held on to her ears and gazed
at the spiders web until the door was flung
open, and the chore-boy shuffled in. He
was hempen- haired, buttemilk-eyed lad
of fifteen, who was either halfwitted or
half alfcrazed-probably both.
"Hol Aunt Prissy," he cried, "what are
you keeping Independence for the day af-
ter the Fourth? 1t has all come off clear
as new cider, and you are wasting your
time sitting there like statute. You bet
ter be mending my pantaloons."
As he spoke sudden sunbeam darted
through the western window, and flashed
athwart the corner.
"If there isn't cobweb right in my
kitchen!" quoth Mrs. Woodcock, deliber-
ately putting down her fingers and her
feet, and going for wing-a gray goose
wing that hung by strip of red calico on
nail behind the door.
"Oh! You come Orson? Where did it
striker" she continued, appearing to dis
cover the grinning boy.
THE hail struck everywhere, particular
ly on DIR. Seacrests grapevines. haven't
heard as the thunder struck at all, not even
on some folks ears" returned Orson, who
was mainly composed of pair of over
grown bare feet, blue cotton frock and
overalls, a set of broad white teeth,
and a weather beaten hat with wide slouch-
ing brim.
"You don't mean to say the Doctors
grapevines are hurt essentially, do you?'
uueried Mrs. Woodcock, deaf to the imper
thence as she had been to the thunder.
Don't know nothing about no essen
ces,n replied Orson, who was fond OF Ions
words, but not clear as to their use. Blu
can tell you one thing, though. 4ol
ought Just to see the Doctors new grape
winery he sets so much by. The tendon
and young grapes are fairly chewed to bits
Yes, m. ! don't expect five hundred dol
lars in gold would put it back to where i
was an hour ago. ;,
"How you talk" gasped Mrs. Woodcock
who liked to have things happen, and tn
worse they happened the better she liket
II, She was a klnd-hearted soul, but some
thing 10 talk over was worth as much a
her dinner.