The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1871-03-02
DON'T TELL BETSY JANE.
And, for your life don't tell Betsy

"And, for your life don't tell Betsy
jane" Eia4
Mr.. Nicholas Harding having utter
ed this caution in a low, earnest tone
of voice, alighted from Concord
wagon in front of his own farmhouse
door, and stood there for few mo-
ments, watching the figure of his
brother-in-law and the city of W,
whence the two men had Just come.
''Don't tell Betsy janet"
Now Betsy Jane was Mr.. Nicode-
mus Harding's wife-a stirring, nota-
BILE soul, who made more butter and
cheese, and took more eggs and fowls
to market in the course of the season
than any other woman for miles
around. Strong, healthy and hearty,
she made the "house-work fly" TO use
her own energetic expression; and if
Nicodemus was a .'Well-to-do," in fact
rich man, to boot, it was owing in
no small measure to the skill, energy,
economy, and general go-aheadative-
ness of his Betsy Jane. What was it
then, that the ungrateful man was not
about to tell her?
cit would never do, nevcrn Mic
odemus thought to himself, shaking
his head. s'She'd be wanting new
carpet, or silk gown, or the house
all painted over, or some such nom
sense. No, the woman is the weaker
vessel. and it won't do to trust one too
far" 1a t
So Mr.. Nicodemus passed through
the house, and out toward thr barn,
with the preoccupied air Of a hen
who has an egg TO lay, and don't know
where she can hide it from the eyes
of mankind to the best advantage.
The kitchen was empty and silent as
he went through it. But oh! if he
could have seen the buxom, good
looking female who stole silently out
of the pantry, and as silently follow
ed him to the barn.
Mrs. Harding came back in about
twenty minutes or so, with face red
from suppressed laughter.
Don't tell Betsy Jane," she said,
giggling into her gingham apron.
You are very smart man, Nicode
mus, and my brother, Tim Noyes, is
another, and lawyer into the bar
gain. Don't tell Betsy Jane, indeed
Two wretches! You deserve all
you'll get pretty soon."
Betsy Jane said no more, but bided
her time. A week passed away, and
then brother Tins wagon drove up
again to the door, and Nicodemus
stepped into it, and was off 10 the viii
lage once more. Betsy Jane had ask
ed him in vain to go. Nicodemus
was bound On business-"busines
which woman could not under
stand," he loftily exclaimed. Her
lord and master well out of sight,
Betsy Jane went about that business
a woman can understand. with mer-
ry twinkle IN her bright black eyes.
AT p. m. Nicodemus returned
home again, looking quite important,
as before. He tip-toed along through
the kitchen, Betsy Jane watching him
from the corner of her eye all the
while. He passed out into the she'd
A fragrant smell of smoke came for
ward to greet him-an odor of burn
ing corncobs, gradually curing ham.
Nlcodemus turned deadly pale, and
ran franticalIy forward to large ham
or two, covered over by blankets,
hanging placidly there. The yell he
gave brought Betsy Jane from the
house instanter, to find Nicodemus
groveling before the ash house door,
weeping, wailing and tearing his hair,
and uttering yell after yell OF despair.
"Why, bless me! what's the matter,
are you in fit? Let me run for the
camphor~ shrieked Betsy Jane.
"Camphor! Bring arsenic! Bring
prussic acid! Bring poison of some
Kind = poison J" yelled Nicodemus,
frantically. Woman you've ruined
me; twelve thousand dollars in Gov
ernment bonds did l put in that ash
hole for safety, just week ago, and
you've gone and burnt them, to cook
that cusse bacon. Pisonl pison!
pison! And let me go out of the
weary world.
Oh!-so that was what you were
not going to tell Betsy Jane! Aren't
you ashamed of yourself, Nicodemus
Harding 2"
"Get up and don't be a fool!" said
Betsy Jane, amia5ly. 81 heard you
and brother Tim conspiring at the
door that day, and l watched you go
to the ash hole, and soon found out
what you hid away there. Woman
is the weaker vessel, no doubt; but
she don't put twelve thousand dollars
where the first match that comes
handy can burn it up! Here are the
bonds, Nicodemus, for ten thousand.
I've kept two Tor my honesty !"
Poor Nicodemus! He gathered
himself up out of the ashes, and took
his bonds-what was left of them.
He rather thinks now that it pays best,
on the whole to ''tell betsy Jane.'