The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1876-07-13
A PRACTICAL JOKE.

and war, and perhaps that Is some e1-
.cuse for me.
I had liked her long while, and ]
knew that she liked me.
was as big fellow as she could see
anywhere about. I had farm of my
own, and, when I was married, father
had promised to build me tirst-rate
house and stock the place for me.
And when I went to church on Sun
day, or to town, l had good clothes, and
was never told [ looked i'll in them.
Onthe whole, I felt myself good, fair
match for Fanny Martin, though she
was SO nice a girl. And her father and
mother thought so to, and she never re-
fused my attentions.
1 had settled, in the slow, quiet sort OF
way in which countrymen do settle
these things, that we'd make match of
it.
The other young fellows knew it, and
if we were not fashionable we were SO
far gentlemen that we had our code Of
honor. None of them ever interfered or
tried TO cut me out.
But then she" came, you see-dapper
and pretty, and dressed like a tailor'g
fashion plate, and he talked of things
knew very little about, and his hands
were white, and he had graceful, gallant
ways that l had never learnt.
Mr.. Williams, that was his name.
And In that summer holiday of his, while
we were working hard over the hay and
were tanned, dirty and worn, and so
tired that sleep was about all we wanted
when work was over, why then he, soft,
sweet and smiling, made himself agreea-
BILE to the girls, and crept into Fanny
Martins heart-my Fanny.
She scarcely looked at me. She did
not care whether she met me or not !;
and on Sunday there he was making me
feel somehow so coarse, rough and vul-
gar, and when I wanted her to go with
me into the woods where we used to sit
in the great green shadows and listen TO
the birds sing, she had some excuse for
staying at home, and when on the road
from church I took her hand in mine,
she snatched it away, and said, quite
Grossly:
"Don't Ben don't, do such silly, rus
tic things while the London folks are
here. They never do it themselves, and
they laugh So"
''Mr. Williams laughs, you mean, l
suppose" said I. "That's gentlemanly,
too"
And then she blushed and curled her
little lip and said:
"You are criticising Mr.. Williams
manners, are you?"
tween us but though it made my heart
ache 1 could not think that it mattered
much to her.
7 l. Fo4I 7,
and did not walk home with her from
church on Sunday indeed / did not go
to church at all. And [ knew the young
follB-aye, and the old folks, too-were
Saying that we had fallen out with each
= cher, and I suppose every one guessed
why but would never answer any
6 questions = not even when my own
mother asked me-not I.
SO the summer came and the autumn
passed on, and the town people stayed
and stayed.
I saw that fellows silk hat and twill
umbrella and exquisitely-ftting gar
nsnEs wherever I went. Farther than
41 O.0Qid see other people used to see
MIN and her-Mr. Williams and Fanny.
They had never made Fanny work
much at home, and she had plenty Of
time to enjoy hersef-an only daughter,
YOU see, [ mean, and her people were
what is called forehanded.
I never intended that she should
drudge after we were married. When I
had hoped for that I did not mind work
myself, but I'd never have made slave
of my wife.
This Mr.. Williams could not make of
1870 ,1roo;or7s tToa S11ro than T
would [ knew that.
I was thinking this all over one even
ing In the meadow, when suddenly L
heard some one say:
IfAh-Mr. Burling."
L looked up, and there was Mr.. Viii
1iams natter than ever, with a cigar III
his mouth.
If he had known just how I felt to him
I'm not sure that he'd have come to find
.ane alone in the great meadow, and L
thought of that just as / jumped up
from the grass and looked at him. But
he was smiling as politely as possible,
and there is something in a mans heart
that makes it hard to do the first rude
thing to enc who is civil.
Still I was not polite to him.
"That, my name," said l to him.
Sc Do you want me 2" 80,
g / want something of you, SAID ne.
&C There's little excursion to night from
our house. We're going to take lady
Have you any little light trap, and a
horse, of course. that you could let me
hire for the evening? I'd rather go
alone with her than in tke big wagon
cite. You know, I'm sure, how it is
that a fellow had rather ride alone with
a pretty girl, and if you will help me
out I viii be ever so much obliged to
you"
So he had come to ask me to help him
TO have nice time with my girl-he
who had cut me out!
L. Io1I1nor NV