The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1872-10-11

care very little for what the lett(
contains. Remember I did Nc
write it; that you are dearer to m
than ever before. Kiss me frs
lwhile watch you"
/ A little pang Of misdoubt trouble
her when she glanced over the note
the tears soole from under her lashe
and George saw her tender moutl
quiver and tremble; then when sh
had finished it, she laid her heaC
down on his shoulder and cried.
at was cruel to let you see it, my
wounded birdie. Let me burn it
And don't forget; darling, what oul
Bible says, that a man shall leave
father and mother, and cleave to hii
wife. You are my precious wife
Marion, and to you 1 turn for all the
happiness my life will ever hold"
He dried her tears and then they
talked it over.
"Just because 1 am city-bred sht
thinks I am lazy, and naughty, .an(
dainty, and -"
"Never mind, Marion. She viii
find out some day. My father
"Yes, bless the dear old man! H,
has added: "My love to my daugh
ter, Marion Oh, 1 know 1 should
love him, and your mother too, if shr
would let me-"
"We will invite them down, Whe1
1 come home. By the way, Marion
l will stop at the farm on my way
home and invite them down, and
bring them home with me-"
George, dear, 1 have been thinking
about that trip west. l think yoI
had better go and leave me at home
1t won't be so very long"
Spoken like my true little Mari
on, and when l come back Pll bring
you a present. What shall it beY
"Your mother and father from the
farm. 1t shall be that hope that viii
bear me company when you are
gone"
A fortnight after that, Marion Gle
ments ate her breakfast alone, the
traces of a tear or so on her pink
cheek; then she dashed them away
with merry, joyous little laugh.
"This will never do, and now that
George has gone for six weeks, to
prepare for his return. And 1 pray
heaven it shall be such a coming as
shall delight his very soul"
K
"Pm sure I don't know what 10
say. The land knows 1 need help
enough, but it pears to me such a
slender little midget as you couldn't
earn your salt. What did you say
your name was?"
Marry Smith. And, indeed, if
you will try me for a week, 1 am
sure you will keep me till the sea-
sons over"
Mrs. Clements looked out of the
window at the great clouds that
were piling gloomily up; and then
the wind gave a great wailing shrek
around the corners of the house.
"You ken cook, ken you? or shake
up feather beds-good big ones, for
ty punders"
A gleeful little laugh came from
Marry's lips.
Indeed 1 can. 1 may not cook
to suit you, but I can learn" Mrs.
Clements walked out to the huge
open fireplace in the kitchen, where
the deacon was shelling corn.
"What dye say, deacon, keep her
Or not? 1 kind O. like her looks, and
the dear knows it 'ud be a good lift
while we're KILN if she couldn't do
mcre'n set the table or make mush
for the bread"
"Take her, of course, Hannah.
You are hard driv' Iknow. Let her
stop a week or so anyhow.
So Mrs. Clements came slowly
back and sat down again.
"You can't get away to-night, any
how, there's a snow storm been
brewin' these three days, and it's on
US now, sure enough. See them ERE
lakes fine and thick. You may as
well take your things up stairs to
the west garret, and then come down
and help me get supper.
Then followed directions to the
west garret, and when she was gone,
Mrs. Clements turned to the Deacon:
4 never saw a girl before I'd trust
up stairs alone. But such as her
won't steal; I can tell you that if
nothing else"
Directly she came down in pur-
Die print dress and white apron; her
lair brushed off from her face into a
let; narrow linen collar, fastened
With a sailors loop of narrow black
'ibboH. 1t seemed as if she had
ife, too, so handily she fitted in
md out of the big pantry and then
lown the cellar. Then, after the
neal, she gathered the dishes in a
leat, silent way, that was perfect
bliss to Mrs. Clements ears.
"She's determined to earn her
oread, anyhow; and I like her turn,
ioo."
Aud the deacon had 'taken a
shine" to Mary Smith. One by one
he days wore on; the hog killing
vas over and done; long strings Of
hung in fantastic rings, ar
'anged by Mary's deft fingers; sweet
lams and shoulders were piled away
n truly house-wifely manner, and
low Marry and Mrs. Clements were
sitting in the. sunny dining-room,
farming, patching and mending.
"Idon't know what I am going to
10 without you, Mary, I dread to see
7ou pack up your clothes.
A blush of pleasure oVerspread
Iary's face.
81 am so glad you have been suited
With my work. Indeed 1 have
ried."
1t amt the work altogether,
hough goodness knows, your the
martest gal I've seen this many a |
lay. As L say, it amt the work, it's
-ou, Mary. I've got to thinking a |
Ieap of you-me and the deacon"
Mary's voice trembled at the kind |
ess of the old lady's voice, but she
ewed rapidly on.
"It's so uncommon lonesome since |
he boy left the farm; but it's worse
ince he got married. 1t seems like
oZarfiror ~ nc aIfOunf ba1s -