Omaha daily bee., 1874-08-20
MARK HAScALL'S COhCENIAL
SPIRIT.

<1llu II W u oOONlA % lA4A q a
as they get up, too" said the young
man, a little sheepishly, but still
very proudly.
He was having his brothers. wed.
ding advertised in city newspaper.
He thought, somehow, that every
body must feel an interest in their
wedding, even to the sharp bust
ness-like clerk who took his money
and his advertisement behind the
counter in the city newspaper-office.
To Dick Hascall, a country boy,
young, a little bit ''green," unused
to grand weddings, city ways or
city finery, this wedding of his
was the one resplendent event in
the history of the world. 1t was
something to dream over and tell
about. But the sharp, business
clerk behind the counter in the city
newspaper Office paid no manner
of attention to Dick Hascall. He
ignored the bashfulIy boastful little
remark in the loftiest manner, as
though a "tall wedding" was the
most ordinary thing in the world to
him; as though he had a "tall we'd
ding of his own every day of the
year, for That matter. Dick looked
disappointed at the sharp clerks
evident want of sympathy, and
turned and went out without ventur-
ing any more remarks. Now if I'd
beer that newspaper clerk, I'd have
certainly asked what the bride wore.
and who married 'em. Wouldn't
you?
Dick Hascall's brothers. name
was Mark Hascall, a country school
master, with a sweet tenor voice-a
farmers son he was, who had mar
ried on short acquaintance Belle
Goswall,
A GAY BRILLIANT CITY GIRL,
who played the piano. She played
accomplishments, while he sang
dreaming of Thee Love-" with his
sweet tenor voice, and in three
weeks, Mark Hascall went one
Friday night, to the modest
domicil which was the home of his
father and mother, and said:
"Mother, Pm going to be mar
ried."
ayes; so is that brindle calf" re-
marked Dame Hascall, sarcasti-
cally.
"But, mother, it's So" said Mark.
"Tm going to be married as o as
the schools out, to Bell Goswall.
You've seen her, haven't you,
mother ?"
Dame Hascall set down the pan
of corn dough, with which she was
feeding her spring chickens. and
wiped her brow with her apron.
"Markey, Marley! Don't skeer
me-" she said family.
"Why, mother, what is there
scary about being married ?" re-
sponded Mark, cheerfully. "You
were married, you know"
Dame Hascall recovered her pres
ence of mind Immediately. She
never wasted any time in giving
way to her emotions. She picked up
the bowl of corn dough again.
"Mark," said she, very.soberly,
'is it the truth you've been telling
me !"
"Sure, mother, l be come all the
way from Sweetbrier to tell you
about it."
Mother Hascall looked at him
with her grimmest most meat-ax-y
expressions.
$50 you've engaged yourself to
that city girl, have you? And now
you go to the house, march to your
room, go into the closet and shut the
door, and get down on your knees
and ask God Almighty to
FORGIVE YOU FOR BENZ A FOOL ~
She took her empty dough-pan,
and walked slowly into the house in
a most stately manner, without
another word.
Marked frOwned with veXatiOn at
first, then he laughed, then fell to
thinking how little his old mother
knew about him and his Isabel, and
about true love in general. They
were married as soon as ever his
angelic Isabel's multifarious and
multigloriOus wedding garments
could be prepared. 1t was a "tall
wedding" sure enough. Isabel's
father was not a rich man, and he
spent nearly all his worldly savings
to give his daughter a magnificent
wedding and some forks and spoons.
Then he washed his hands of her
future, and left her to her husband
and Providence. So they were
married because they could not eX-
ist without each other,
1t wasOne of those hurried match
es which sometimes takes place be-
tween two young people whom the
fates have decreed shall make fools
of themselves.
They did not keep house, because
Bell didn't know how to work, and,
secondly, because they had no house
to keep. They remained at
Farmer Hascall's, and they had
not been married three months
before they began to dis
cover that two congenial souls that
had been mated in Heaven before
hand, and born for each other, and
that sort of thing, could neverthe-
less quarrel like two squabhling
pigeons. Dame Hascall worked for
them, and was rather kind, but
grim and, or the whole, net en-
couraging to a sweet girl bride, who
wore white Swiss morning robes
trimmed with lace and inserting,
and didn't know how to make soft
soap.
az think you don't understand
dear Bell. mntherU eynlained