Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1871-11-17
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THE DEACON'S COURTSHIP,
CONCLUDED FROM YESTERDAY

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huge fireplace; the long dresser, brilliant
with pewter and many-hued crockery,
cleaned in the freight; the tea-kettle
sang merrily on the long trammel; the
| supper table, with its spotless cloth, and
beautifully painted china, was drawn out
In the centre of the neatly-sanded floor
When Edward White had handed him a
nlcely-lighted pipe the visitor felt remark
ably comfortable, and as he puffed the
curls OF smoke about his head and watched
| pretty, buxom Hannah Adams as she bus
tied about, he thought ii the maid were so
| good-looking, what would be the mistress?
He scarcely cared, he liked the looks of
this girl. SO spry and deft in all her move-
ments.
| With half-closed eyes he gazed, as the
pies and doughnuts were placed on the
hearth to warm, bread, cheese, and cake
cut, the toast dipped and the sausage fried.
Chang. chang, came the bells-good,
old-fashioned. resounding bells. A large,
low, comfortable, yellow sleigh, drove to
the door. Two ladies in mourning and
sable furs were assisted from the robes of
strong, homespun coverle:s, the foot-stove
was taken out, then Mr.. White drove to
the barn and Deacon Cluff rose to be in
troduced.
A tall, gaunt, pale, wrinkled woman, in
large round glassed, silver mounted spec
tacles, entered, followed by black eyed,
sunny faced younger one.
my mother, the widow Adams. and
my sister, Miss Susan Adams" said Han
nah, in her most modest and bewitchsug
manner.
The deacon certainly experienced d.
nervous start. For an instant his tongue
was paralyzed, his brain whirled, all his
ideas seemed resolving to chaos. But he
was man of the world, prided himself on
always being equal to any situation.
There was mistake; this was not the
! woman or place he had sought, but it
| should never be known. so with his most
courtly air he gave his name, and inquired
respecting the swine.
Mrs. Adams had not thought of dis
posing of any, her help ate great deal of
pork during the summer, but perhaps she
could spare a couple; her foreman. Mr..
Dole, would be home soon. She must
| consult him. The gentleman must stop to
tea; after that there would be plenty of
time for business.
The supper was very social one. The
deacon learned that David Dole was the
prospective son-in-law, as well as foreman
to Mrs. Adams but he was even more
pleased with Miss Susan than he had been
with her younger sister. She having been
initiated in the rougish plot played her
part to perfection, and the mother, though
perfectly ignorant of the conspiracy
against the visitor, or his mistake, was
too shrewd to believe that the purchase of
pigs was his sole errand. Pleased at the
prospect OF such respectable match for
her daughter, she strove to be as gracious
and entertaining as possible.
The widower. surrounded by so much
feminine sympathy, became extremely
confidential. With tears he dilated on the
beauty and virtue of his deceased spouse,
gave detailed account of her illness and
death. concluding by graphic descrip-
ton ofhis loneliness and domestic troubles.
Words and sighs of consolation were
breathed around him. The widow be-
moaned her bereaved condition, ..but she
was an old woman and had two such
daughters. Her girls, especially the eld-
est, had beeh such comfort since her
husbands DEATH
The guest looking unutterable things at
the damsel, "was sure it must be so,"
while she comforted the mourner with shy
little glances, and sweetly lisped half fin
ished sentences.
Supper over, Mr.. Dole arrived with
sled-load of wood, drawn from a distant
wood lot. The bargain for the pigs hav-
ing been satisfactorily concluded, Tabitha
Dole came to spend the evening. Apples
were brought, nuts were brought, and a
bowl of hot punch mixed.
The tall clock in the corner struck nine.
Tabitha donned cloak and hood, and es-
,rtaJ a hvrE LII aud ii
ed homeward, but in reality the pair pro-
ceeded to the long back kitchen. when
raking open the smouldering fire, they quiz
etly seated themselves upon the settle in
the chimney corner.
took the knitting sheath from her side, and
placing both on high mantle, brought
the large family bible and politely re-
quested Deacon Cluff "to set the house in
order," which, after a slight show of mod
est hesitancy, he proceeded to do in his
best style, which was really very good
Prayers over, the widow, complaining
of fatigue, but begging the visitor not to
hasten his departure, sought her bed
room. The young ladies and Mr.. Dole
became more entertaining. Some cold
chicken was brought, and another mug of
flip made as bonnie boache before the
guest set out on his long, cold ride. The
merriment increased, till somehow the
deacon found himself alone with Miss
Susan Adams, who was demurely knitting
in her mothers low rocking chair by the
small, round light stand. He pushed his
seat forward and strove to take the work
from her hand. She coquettishly resisted.
The chair went forward another hitch,
something intended to be sweet and COM
plimentary was stammered, then every
thing swan before his vision, his eyes
closed, his head sank on his breast, and
the pious, distinguished Deacon Cluff was
fast asleep.
The maiden's needles clicked, the fire
snapped and sizzled, the cat purred on
the hearth, the clock tick-tacked, tick
tackled. then rang out eleven. The deacon
never moved.
The door leading from the back kitchen
was cautiously opened and four merry
faces peeped in. Miss Susan put up her
knitting, and with motion to silence,
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