The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1873-05-15

| Wlggln.
"Dont be silly, David /" said Dolly,
when he limited as much to her. where.
upon David went off straightway and
married Olive Searle, the plainest girl
in the parish. This happened thirty
years ago, and now David was again
wifeless, and again the current of his
thoughts again turned toward Miss Dol
ly, who still lived Mt the old homestead
near the foot of Bryant's falls. Her
father had died some months before
OF the boys, James and Ezekiel had
settled ON neighboring farms, and the
remaining three We're in the West Da-
vid's benevolent heart warmed with
compassion as he remembered Dolly's
lonely condition, and he felt that it
would be exceedingly kind in him to of
fer her home, especially as he owned
as good place as you'd find on the riv-
er, while the Blount cottage was fast
falling to decay. He wouldn't let her
former refusal of him tell against her,
for, now he looked back, he really didn't
see how she could have married any
body at that period. She ought to be
rewarded for the devotion she had
shown the family, and, for his part, he
felt magnanimous enough to give her
second chance to accept him. Such
was the worthy widower's state of mind
when he asked James Blount, with
mock humility, whether it would be Of
any use for him to try to make bar
gain with Dolly.
"That's more'n | can tell" Mr..
Blount had answered Dolly'sa a puz-
zle. You'll have to find out for your
self"
Mr.. Wiggin smiled, in complaccnt
anticipation of acceptance. Indeed, it
might not seem like repioach to the
memory of his lost Olive, | should say
that the kind man reioiced in
this opportunity of making Miss Dol
ly's happiness.
Benevolence was in his face, benevo-
lence was in his spirit, as he sailed
sorth at an early day to acquaint her
with her good fortune. The broken
harrow which he had strapped into the
wagon to give the neighbors Il plausi-
BILE reason for his trip to the falls was
by no means typical Of mental lacera-
tion in it's owner His feeling rs he
Miss Dolly's moss-grown
cottage was purely one of thanlfulness
that it was in his power to provide her
Il better home. Not that he was CRATE
full to his dead wife for leaving vacan-
cy there Mr.. Wiggin had mourned |
for Olive year and day,
Miss Dolly was out in the garden
gathering catnip. She never used it
herself, but there were nervous old la
dies in the village who looked upon the
herb as the substance pleasant dreams
are made of, and Miss Dolly dried it
every year, and often left little bundles |
of it when she made visits of consola-
lion. She had built chip fire under
jhe tea-kettle, and then whisked off to
oick an apronful of the pungent leaves
while the water was boiling. There
she was, STOPPING beneath the caves of
| log-cabin sun-bonnct, and humming
lively fugue tune, when Mr.. Wiggin
lrove up.
"'Come, my beloved, haste away
oiped Miss Dolly, cheerily, swapping
oriskly at the stalks.
"'Cut short the hours Of thy delay
Fly like yOuthful-'"
"'Fly like youthful" struck in
lwheezy bass.
The sun-bonnet tipped back like a
,art body.
"Sakes alive !" cried Miss Dolly, not
n the words of the hymn, as Mr.. Wig
gin strobe toward her on his slightly
rheumatic legs.
81 didn't mean to put you out,
laughed he, shaking hands heartily,
' but it seemed kind % material to take
part with You in the invitation.
'You always had a way of falling in Mt
he most unheard-of time, | remem-
Der, retorted Miss Dolly, saucily, re-
covering herself, and going on gather
ng catnip. She was fifty years old
now, and hoped she had her wits about
ler.
:" You used to say kept good time,
,nly too much OF it, " pursued Mr.. Wig
gin, with q sudden inspiration; "but
tell you what, Dolly, time never
ragged with me then as it does these
lays p
cit is a dull season, said Miss Dol
y, with exasperating simplicity. 81
suppose the grass-hoppers have eaten
most of your wheat, havn't they, so it'll
hardly pay or tile reaping?"
"Just So" scented Mr.. Wiggin, dis
He had not travelled five
niles in the heat to discuss the crops.
"Walk in and sit down, won't you?"
'ai Miss Dolly, with reluctant hospi-
,ality. Her apron was crammed at last
20 its utmost capacity. She devoutly
wished it had been larger.
"Well, yes, I don't care if I do, an
,wered Mr.. Wiggin, after hypocritioal
show of hesitation. az had little bu-
,iness further on, at the blacksmith's.
No hurry, though, as know Of" and
ba turned tn LET down the bars for Miss