The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1872-09-06
BOLIVAR HARDENiAN CO TENNESSEE, SEPTEMBER g. 1872

| VINO was now as much OF q puzzle as
q terror to me, announced that he
would go to meet my husband atthe
boat.
As he went out he stopped and
kissed little Minnie, saying, Say
what you viii we haven't got no such
nice little gals as this over to, Reno.
Croeker-he's the boss contractor of
that town-he's offered a prize of a
town lot for the first baby that's born
on the place, and you jest better be-
lieve the women are all looking after
that lot, and they do say that some
women are coming from Cisco, and
those in town aremad TO think-but
I guess I'll tell Hank about that, he
added, with a queer little laugh; and
so he went off over the sandbilIs,
and with a great gulp of satisfaction
/ actually saw the last of the gentle
man from Reno.
Harry came driving up to the gate
about noon, just as that wretched
wind began to blow again; and as
soon as [ could get him inside the
door, I said reproacbfully, oh,
Harry, have had such time r.
Have you, my dear? Why, you
look as if you had seen a ghost.
There, there, now, don't set the deck
pumps going, but tell me all about
It.
Harry used to be In the navy, and
had that injurious manner of tBit-
ting me about ''deck pumps" that I
never dare let the water come into
my eyes when he was about, so [
swallowed my grief, under which I
was weakly inclined to give way, and
told him the whole story from the
beginning to end, minutely descrlb-
ing the mysterious visitor. Having
listened attentively. his big eyes
growing bigger and dancing with
fun as / went on, finally he bursts
out with, Sc Why, that's Bob Patchen
from Reno. He's one Of my old
cronies that I used to know up In
Brandy Canon in 80.
In vain I told him of the way he
came into the house; how he shook
the building with his tread and what
dreadful stories he told about Me
and Hank" in those wild days of old.
He protested that Bob Patchen was
one of the best fellows in the world,
and he was sorry that he had missed
him at the Oakland boat. In fact,
he said, I believe that the gentleman
from Reno was ga gentleman, every
inch of him rough, to be sure, and
as uncouth as any man gets to be
knocking about the world and de-
prived of the society of women; but
nevertheless, a tender hearted, whole
souled,- fellow, who would not need
lessly harm fly, but who could drop
his man ct a hundred yards, just as
easy"
Well, I had to give in, of course,
and was well laughed at for my fool
ish fears, and that cruel husband of
mine roared until thought he and
the wind together would raise the
root as I told him of my furtive pre-
parations to carry his silver goblet
and my Bismarck silk out. at the
back door.
He drove off down town to hunt
up ''honest Bob Patchen, who went
back to Reno that very night, and l
never saw hun agRin. But as Harry
came into the house at supper time
he handed me a square pasteboard
box, in which I found one of the
most delicate boquets I ever laid
| eyes on. None but refined taste
could have selected it; and IN the
bottom of the box was card, on
which was written, erookedly and
slantWise:
| Mr.. ROBERT PATOHEN,
Reno, Nevada.