South-eastern Independent. (McConnelsville, Ohio) 1871-1871, 1871-08-04
Poetry.
THE DEAooEs STORY

Br n. s. EMERSON.
TEE solemn old bells in the steeple
Are ringin'. guess you know why -,
Nor Well, then, I'll tell you, though mostly
Its whispered about on the sly.
Some six weeks ago, church meetin'
Was called-for-nobOdy knew what;
But we went, and the parson was present,
And DON'T know who, or who not.
Some twenty odd members, I calc'late,
Though don't mean to say aught sg'in' 'em,
I've seen many getherinhs worse-
There, in the front row. sat the deacons,
The eldest was old Deacon Pryor;
A man countini ifourscore-and-seveni
And gin'rslly full Of his ire.
Beside him, his wife, countin' fourscore,
A kind-hearted, motherly soul;
And next to her, young Deacon Hartley,
A good Christian man on the Whole
Miss Parsons, q spineter OF hfty,
And long ago laid on the she'll,
Had wedged herself next; and, beside her,
Was Deacon Munroe-that's myself.
The meeiin' was soon called to order,
The parson looked glum as text;
We gazed at each other in silence,
And silently wondered :. What next ~
Then slowly uprose Deacon Hartley;
His voice seemed to tremble with fear,
As he said: Boy and man you have known me
Ny good friends, for nigh forty year.
"And you scarce may expect confession
0ferror from me; but-you know,
Ny dearly loved wife died last Christmas,
It's now nearly ten months ago.
The winter went by ong and lonelF.
The spring hurried forward apace;
The fafm-work CANT on. and needed
A woman about the old place.
"The children were wilder than rabbits,
And still growing worse every day;
No help to be found in the village,
Although was Williu' TO pay.
In fact, was nigh bout discouraged
For everything looked so forlorn;
When good lit e Patience McAlpine
Skipped into our kitchen one morn
~she had only run in OF an erfand;
But she laughed at our miserable plight,
And set to work, jist like woman,
A-putting the whole place to right
And though her own folks was so busy,
And lily her helpin' could spare,
She fit in and out like sparrow,
And most every day she was there,
use the summer went by sort o. cheerful,
And one night my baby, my zoe,
Seemed feverish, and fretful, and woke me,
By crying, at midnight, you know.
was tired with my days work, and sleepy,
And couldn't, 10 way, keep him still
So, at last, grew angry, and spanked MN,
And then he screamed oct with will.
"5u.t about then heard soft rapping,
Away at the half-open door;
And then little Patience McAlpine
Walked shyly across the white floor.
Says she: thought Josey was cryin',
guess I'd best take him away.
IkEew you'd be gettin' up ear y,
To go to the marshes for hay,
So stayed here tonight to get breakfast;
guess he'll beeuiet with msl
Come, Josey, kiss papa, and tell him
What nice little Eian you viii beP
She was STOPPING .ew over the pillow,
And saw the big tears on his cheek;
Her face was 20 close to my wbiskers,
/ darHn't move. ecArCelV, SPEAK.
Her hands were both holdin' the baby,
Her eye by his shoulder was hid;
But her mouth was so neaf and so rosy,
kissed her. That's just whatI did"
Then down sat the trembli = sinner,
The sisters they mGrmured OF = shame"
And she shouldn't oughter let him,
10 doubt she was mostly to blame"
When straightway uprose Deacon Pryor.
"Now bretherin and sisters" he said.
I've knowed then that suthin' was COMM,
And all sot as still as the dead,
"You've heard brother Hertley's confession,
And speak for my self, when say,
That if my wife was dead, and my children
Were all CROWN worse every DAY;
And irmy house needed attention,
and Patience McAlpine had come.
And tidied the cluttered up kitchen,
And made the place seem more like st home !
And II was worn ont and sleepy,
And my baby wouldn't lie stlll,
But fretted and woke me st midnight,
As babies, we know, sometimes will;
And If Patience came in to hush him,
And twas all as our good brother sez-
Think friends-I think should kss her,
And 'bide by the consequences"
Then down sat the elderly deacon,
The younger one lifted his face,
And smi Tippled over the meedn'
Like light in q shadowy plaIe-
Perhaps, then, the matronly sisters
Remembered their far-awsy youth,
Or the daughters at home by their hresides,
Shrined each in her shy, modest truth;
For their judgments grew gent and kindly,
And-well-as started to say,
The solemn old bells in the steeple
Are ringn' 8 bridal to-day.
-Applet0n's Journal.