Wyandot County Republican. [volume] (Upper Sandusky, Ohio) 1869-1903, 1871-08-03
Poetry.
THE DEA00Ns STORY
BY N. 8. EMERSON.

BY N. 8. EMERSON.
THE solemn old bells in the steeple
Are ringin'. guess you know why
No? Well, then, I'll tell you, though mostl
It's whispered about on the sly.
Was SIX ago. Knew What
But we went, and the parson was present,
And DON'T know who, or who not.
Some twenty odd members, l calc'late,
Which mostly was women, OF course;
Though don't mean to say aught ag In EN-
I've seen many gatherin's worse.
There, in the front row, sat the deacons,
The eldest was old Deacon Pryor;
A man countin' fourscore and seven;
And gin'raHy full of his ire.
Beside him, his wife, countin' fourscore,
A kind motherly soul;
And next to her, young Dr. aeon Hartley,
A good Christian man on the whole.
Miss Parsons, spinst-r of fifty,
And long ago laid on the shelf,
Had wedged herself next; and. beside her,
Was Deacon Munroe-that's myself.
The meetin' 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,
Ash he said f" Boy and man you have known me
My good friends. for nigh forty year.
Of error from fIie; but--you know,
My dearly loved wife died last Christmas,
It's now nearly ten months ago,
The winter went by Ong and lonelv,
The spring hurried forward apacs;
The Framework came on, and l 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 litt Patience McAlp!ne
Skipped into our kitchen one morn.
"She had only run in OF an errand;
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.
$50 the summer went by sort o. cheerful,
And one night my baby, my Joe,
Seemed feyerish, and fretfnl, and woke me,
was tired with my days work, and sleepy,
And couldn't, L way, keep him still
So, at last, grew angry, and spanked him,
And then he screamed Out with will.
ssJu.t about then heard soft rapping,
Away at the half-open doo-i
And then little Patience McAlpine
Walked shyly across the white floor.
Says she. L thought jos ey was cryin',
Iguess I'd best take him away.
: K, ew you'd be gettn' up car y,
To go to the marshes for hay,
So stayed here tonight to get breakfast;
guess he'll be quiet with me.
Come, Josey, kis. papa, and tell him
What q nice little man you will bel
She was STOPPING low over the pillow,
And saw the big tears on his cheek;
Her face wa 60 close to my whiskers,
l darsn't move. scarcely, or speak;
Horh ho,, do hntb hold M ha hoh hv
Her eye by his shoulder was hid;
But her mouth was SO near and so rosy,
kissed her. That's just what did,"
Then down sat the trembli = sinner,
The sisters they murmured of " shame,''
And she shouldn't oughter let him,
No doubt she was mostly to blame"
When straightway uprose Deacon Pryor,
Now bretherin and SISTERS he said,
1--WE knOwed then that suthin' was comm,
And all sot as still as the dead,
You've heard brother Hartley's confession,
And speak for my self, when say,
That if my wife was dead, and my children
We're all growin' worse every day;
And ii my house needed attention,
and Patience NJ alpine had come,
And tidied the cluttered up kitchen,
And made the place seem more like at home
And if was worn cut and sleepy,
And my baby wouldn't lie still,
But fretted and woke me at midnight,
As babies, we know, sometimes will;
And if Patience came in to hush him,
anu Twas Ill as our SOOQ DrOGner SeZ-
think, friendsI think should K ss her,
And 'bide by the con- equences.'
Then down sat the elderly deacon,
The younger one lifted his face,
Aud smi tippled over the meetin'
Like light in shadowy pla.e.
Perhaps, then, thematronly sisters
Remembered their far-away youth,
Or the daughters at home by their fire ides,
Shrined each in her shy, modest truth;
For their judgments grew gent e and kindly,
And-well-as started to say,
The solemn old bells in the steeple
Are ringih' bridal to-day.