The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1876-01-13
POLLY'S MISTAKE.

Il always thought you liked me,
Polly I"
$50 I do, John; I'm very fond of you,
but not in that way"
"Not in what way, Polly9 I only
know one way of being fond of people. !"
"Only one way! Why, there are
dozens of ways.
"Well, Polly, just say you'll marry
me, and you may be fond OF me III your
own way, or in a dozen ways, I'm not
particular.
But that was just what Polly would
not do. All Johns eloquence could not
induce her to utter that simple little
word eyes" At last Johns stock of
patience, never very large, gave out, and
he told Polly she was a flinty hearted
little hirt, to pretend to be fond of him
in any way, when it was plain to be seen
that she did not care button for him.
That was to much, to be called O. firt,
and finty hearted fiirtl and by John
Polly's eyes sparkled, and sharp retort
was on the tip of her tonge, when the
kitchen door opened, and Uncle Silas
entered.
t'Be you two holdin' Quaker m setin?"
said he, as he was going out, after filling
and lighting his pipe at Polly's ironing
place, cor be you savin' up for the
singln' to-night9 Don't overdo it, tho,
Polly, OF maybe your tongue II git stiff
in the jints. Queer things is women's
tongues" And Uncle Silas went off
ohuckhng over his little joke.
OF course, after that, Polly was not
going to be In any hurry to speak. Per
haps John thinks she can't hold her
tongue, too! She will show him And
Polly bites her lip very hard and tries to
look very resolute indeed. But John
had been busy repenting for ten minutes;
he got up, as his father shut the door,
and said, quite gently" I'm sorry, Polly,
for what / said while ago. [ didn't
mean it, dear. No answer unless
big tear that dropped on Polly iron just
then might be taken for one.
/" Well, Polly, never mind, I'll try to
get over being fond of you, if it makes
you SO unhappy; you need not cry about
it /; I hope it is not SO bad as that" And
with that John went out to his wood
chopping, and Polly finished ironing,
and nobody was any the wiser. That is,
nobody but Paul Pry, the parrot, who
had heard every word, and startled Polly
dreadfully that same evening by calling
out suddenly at the supper table, Sc Hillo
Polly, never mind never mind! never
mind Poor Polly Pretty Polly! don't
oryl"
However, neither Uncle Silas nor
Aunt Debby paid the leastregard to Paul
Pry's rather personal and slightly imper-
tineTft remarks: but they made Polly so
nervous with dread of What he might
say nfxt that she could not eat, and
thereby attracted Aunt D5bby's attention
to herself
"Beyou sick, child! You don't seem
to have no appetite, and your face is red
as beet this minute. / do hope to
goodness you amt going to be took
down with fever. Simon Brown says it
rs drefful bad over to Rockaway."
Polly's cheeks Is allus like pink hol-
of affectionate admiration in Polly's di-
rection.
"Some folks admire to see red cheeks,
and then again some doesn't. There's
Alice Brown, now; she amt got no more
color nor stattoo; but most folks lows
she's drefful hansum; that young FAINTER
chap from York was allus q DRAWN of
her picter. For my part, / think red
cheeks is healthy" and Aunt Debby
stirred her tea meditatively.
"AIice Brown amt no more to be COM
pared to our Polly for looks nor them
bleached pOtato-sprouts down cellar is
fit to be put in posy along Q pinks and
0illifowers," said Uncle Silas indig
nantly.
ssWell, father, I dunno; last Sabbath