Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1874-06-25

"That's So" said Ira, thinking that
he ought to say something to show him.
self an appreciative listener.
"I've not planned yet now I'll hsve
my upper rooms divided off / want
them handy and to be as large as pos
sible," and he cast his round, white
orbs up to the ceiling, thinking that he
looked like poet whose eyes were in
"f fine frenzy rolling"
"This is fine October weather." said
the widow, tossing back her curls and
rocking gently to and fro, giving her
head just motion enough to swing the
glittering pendants in her ears and
make them catch the light of the lamp
and sparkle there most bevitchingly.
Oh, it was a captivating little dodge,
and it worked like a charm. The
'Squire's heart melted like roll of July
butter.
Her hands lay prettily in her lap !;
she continued: 81 always think of
what the poet sung of October. He
says:
"'There is a vigor in the air
That brings such light to heart and eye
As came not with the summer glow
OF days gone by"
She reclted it rather mournfully, and
raised her voice at the end of each line
until she came to the last, and she
gradually let it die away in whisper.
That was artful dodge number two.
Ira was growing uneasy at the senti-
mental turn matters were taking. and
thinking of hospitality, he said: Squire,
s'posin' we have basket q walnuts to
eat-some o. them boosters that growed
down on the bottom?"
"No, believe not ate hearty
supper this evening, thank you," said
the Squire. Snow my family room is
trifie larger than this he continued,
and he looked all around the room,
scrutinizingly.
The widow was glad that she had
swept down the cobwebs that very
morning, and that Ira had whitewashed
overhead the week before the State Fair.
To all outside appearances she was a
tip-top housekeeper. But, sometimes,
if she was in hurry, she did not make
her bed more than three times in one
week. Nobody knew it but Ira, and'he
didn't care cent.
Ira stood his ground and managed to
say something every time the Squire
spoke; he was determined that he
shouldn't have an opportunity to talk
sentiment to Betsey, for if he did, dear
knows where it would end. There was
the Squire, a well-to-do widower, a good
provider, only two children, rich and
looking about for partner to share his
joys and his sorrows. There was his
sister, Betsey Bobbett, only turned of
thirty-three, neat, handsome, smart as
cricket, and herhusband dead as door
nail, this eighteen months over, and
why shouldn't she marry if she took a
notion? But he couldn't live in
the same house witch the Squire
and Betsey, even # they want
ed him to. He thought, and thought,
and scratched his head over the prob
lem, and his lower jaw fell, and for two
days he pondered sorrowfully over this
new dilemma.
One day Betsey was going over to her
cousins to a quilting, and Ira was to
keep house and have the tea-kettle
L.ii;--<, -. ave v'cfs 81 80 tho e~0niny.
Now, nobody would guess what an
ugly thing old Brother Ira did in her
absence On, the selfish old churl was
driven to it. He knew it wasn't manly
or kind, but how could he give up his
coy quarters and see Betsey's smiles
lavished upon another?
Poor fellow, he arraigned himself,
and while under indictment he said:
"Now, Ira Josephus Barnabee, you
know very well that you are the vicious
est mortal thateverlived, but something
mast be done. You don't want to be set
adrift and be compelled to try the reali
hard on orphans and poor folks n"
Ira often dwelt with pathos on the
fact of his being an orphan. He was
not very tender orphan, being in his
forty-seventh year but that is the way
with some people, they will howl over
one old-time, by-gone sorrowall through
their lives.
Ira knew that Madame Wilkins, de-
ceased, had been a very pink of house.
keeper, and the bereft Squire thought
this requirement the one thing needful
in a wife. She must mop all the floors
every Saturday, sweep down the cob
webs, polish the tinware, and do all the
little things that his mother used to do.
OF course her successor must be all she
had been.
After Betsey had been gone an hour
or two, Ira walked leisurely over to the
new story-and-a-h half frame house of
Squire Wilkins, and seated himself on
the workbench ard commenced playing
with the little curly shavings
The Squire came in and began show
ing him round through the house very
courteously. When they were upstairs
Ira said: You'd ought to have your
rooms divided off like my sister Betsey
has I think hers are very convenient.
81 wish / had the plan of her rooms"
said the Squire, Frightening up as
though the idea tantalized him.
"Get your rule and come right over
along with me there's nobody at home
to-day, and we'll have full possession
ourselves"
So the two men trudged off together
to Widow Betsey Bobbett's little rose
covered cottage in the edge of the vii
lage.
Now I don't want to insinuate, but /
verify believe that Ira Josephus, the
selfish old bachelor brother, had been