Richland beacon., 1873-06-14

| to the hoop, ''Whcn You can make Il churn
that will bring the butter in half the time
! this churn does, you may have my Rosy.
and not minute before. And as judge
that's an impossibility, you may take it
for your answer
LET me see," said Mr.. Monteith,
cOOlly, leaning against the corner of the
veranda. These are the terms. if I'M
derstand you: when ! can make churn
that will bring the butter in half the time
that this churn does, may have your
! Rosy, and not minute after"'
LAS many minutes as yOu please said
the farmer. with sardonic grimneSs,
though little puzzled by the cool rccep-
Not many, then. Mr.. Mayne. Rosy.
| this is our wedding-day And to the
angry bcholder's dismay, he drew the
blushng. laughing girl within the clasp
of his sound arm and kissed her before
her fathers face. "Shall not a man do as
he will with his Own?' he asked of the
amazed parent. You have given Rosy to
me. Mr.. Mayne."
The farmer did not answer another syl-
| liable, but turned his broad back upon the
pair. and to al appearance gave his whole
soul TO the starting nails in the lattice
work.
Mrs. Mayne." said the lover, " how
long does it take to bring the butter with
. this churn, may | ask
Just thirty minutes, Sir"
Every well when you are ready, blow
the horn, if you please. | shall be down
at the brook. will bring you as much
butter in a quarter Of the time. Let
me have gallon of cream in the stone
crock"
'ln the crock? Do You want to smash
it - cried the wondering woman.
Not bit. | want to fill it with but
ter
You shall have it, Mr.. Monteith; as
good sweet cream
Mother." cried the farmer.
Now, Mr.. Mayne.' said his wife.
"I'm not one of those that want to call
down a plague by copying the Egyptians,
and sha'n't set anybody to making bricks
without straw"
In the fairy stories that have read,
Mr.. Ma me- said MOnteith, laughing.
"althOugh there was always fairy god
mother to step in in the nick of time, the
victim was never set to spin gold without
straw"
And the man that's working for my
daughter must have his tools ~ declared
Mrs. Mayne. as iinality.
''Do all you can to help throw her
away ~
You'll be on hand to time us, Mr..
| Mayne:" said the determined lover.
I'll time you with "A vengeance cried
the farmer, with bitter sort of grin-for
he already enjoyed the defeat of the rash
man who was going to bring butter soon
er than his wife could. And as for Rosy
| she ran away to roll up the sleeves from
| her dimpled arms, to wash her hands, and
to have good cry.
! But when the horn blew. Mr.. Monteith
was seen coming up from the brook with
| two old pieces of tin that he had been
cleaning and polishing down there: one
of these pieces was at the bottom of tin
steamer that had been torn Off long ago.
and through whose center he had punched
a larger hole than any already there; the
other was that spout and rose of a water
ing pot which Rosy had been idly holding
in her hand. The farmer. sitting on Il
high three-legged stool, looked on with a
comfortable sense of satire. "Hc has
come up like those old heather who sup
posed they would frighten off their enc
mics by the flashing of tin ware and the
beating of stones" he thought. "That's
no way to make butter, though, and the
beggar amt going to get my Rosy. You
won't kill Goliath with pebble this time,
young Sirn'
Mrs. Mayne had set out the crock of
cream, and Rosy stood by. grave and pale,
having had her cry out; for though she
knew her father was a man of his word.
and would not attempt to gainsay it if Mr..
MOnteith were successful. yet for the life
of her she could not see how butter was
to be made with two old pieces of broken
| ha hax lo1 tA han
weights on her mothers arms, but Mrs.
Mayne would certainly have shaken them
off. for she knew there was some reason
in her husbands objections, and having
given the contestant fair play, she meant
that he should earn his prize if he had it:
and Mr.. Mayne himself would as soon
have looked for snow i'm August as for his
wife to palter or deceive i'm any matter.
"ROsy. bring me the bellows from the
best rOOm," said Mr.. MOnteith, calmly.
And when she came back with that imple-
ment he had passed the broken spout OF
the watering pot through the hole punched
in the center of the torn steamer, had tit
ted a little rubber tube, which he pro
duced from his pocket. on one end of the
spout, and taking the bellows, he secured
the other end of the rubber over the nOZ
zle there. 4" Are you ready, Mrs. Mayne? y
ue SdlC. - our Wdtcu, OH, JO Tile IaTllleT
and the latter sOlemnly took out his great
silver dial, that was almost big enough
for hall clock. And then as Mrs. Mayn,
lifted her dasher, Mr.. Monteith gently pu
the inverted rose of the water-pOt's spOu
down through his cream to the bottom O
the crock, fitted the piece of the old steam
er to the top of the crock, and with tn,
first movement of Mrs. Mayne's arms h,
opened and closed his bellows, sent tn,
outer air into the cream through the spOu
and it's rose, and out again through tn,
holes of the broken steamer, and cOntin
ued to open and close the bellows so
J without word, for the space of sever
; minutes. "Has your butter come, Mrs
, MayneT' he asked then.
, "My butter come! !" she cried. "Wha
should make you ask such ridiculOu
question? 1t never came in its life unde
thirty minutes, told you! ~
"Mine has," said Mr.. MORteith. An,
J Mrs. Mayne dropped her dasher in amaze
ment, and despite of her wishes and ex
: pectatiOns. as he opened the crock, ant
, Rosy lifted out great handfuls of the firm
sweet butter, ready to be worked ant
, salted.
''rn be- But on second thoughts
will not repeat what the farmer said.
7 made Mrs. Mayne's hair stand on end, a
that sort Of conversation usually did, not
Y WithstandinU the twenty wears She ha