Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1880-07-29
sHisrsilaag.
THE DEACON GOES AWOOING.

The sun had disappeared behind the
hills OF New Bethany, and the lingering
light on the mountain tops was changing
from rose to purple, when Deacon Pinch
stopped his melancholy old mare In front
of the village postoflice. 1t was Saturday
night, the only time when New Bethany
reused itself from its lethargy, and showed
any signs of life and energy. The rest oI
the week it drowsed and langdished after
the fashion of small country towns remote
from railway and manufacturing centers.
"Whoa, Mary jane" said the deacon
with unnecessary emphasis, throwing the
reins on the mares broad back and spring
ing to the ground.
But the despOndent Mary Jane had al.
ready ceased her shambling gait from
sheer force Of habit. A ten years service
with the Deacon had male her perfectly
familiar with the accustomed round of
stopping places. Wednesday night it was
prayer meeting; Sunday the church SER.
vice, and Saturday night invariably the
postofce, and, as late variation, an af-
ter pause at the house of Mrs. Betsey Hill,
the milliner, who for a quarter Of cen.
tury had supplied the women of New
Bethany with head-gear fearfully and
wonderfully made.
The moment the deacon stepped into
the office he knew, from the unusual buzz
of conversation, that something extraor-
dinary had happened.
"Heard the news-eh, deacon? ?" asked
one of the village loungers.
The deacon looked up inquiringly.
miss Kczia's had an amazing streak
of luck"
"lt's been nothiug but streak of luck
ever since she was born" returned the
deacon. "lf ownin the best farm in town
and hevin' money at interest isn't luck,
I'd like to know what it is."
ayes, but this is something out of COM
mon. You used to know her brother, who
died years ago and left his only child for
Miss Kezia to bring up2 Wa'al, when
ole man Mead died Kezia took the farm
as her share of the property, and her
brother, being of a rovin' turn of mind,
took the few thousand Of personal proper.
ty as his'n and invested 'em in Western
lands, which tnrned out wuthless, and he
lost every cent he put in. Folks always
blamed him for being so foolish and hasty
and they say grief and modification hast
ened his death. Wa'al, it turns out they
have put a railroad square thro' the land,
and it's sent real estate way up, nobody
knows where. Miss Kezla's bin Offered
nigh onto $4,000 for the lands, and the,
say she'll get ever so much mere if sht
holds on"
"Yew dont't mean itP"
81 dew; it's as true as scripture"
"She'll hold out, never fear," said thu
deacon; land hold 1t to be our bounder
duty as neighbors to advise her to tina
end"
Instead of lingering as usual for tn,
village gossip-for the New Bethany post
office on Saturday night answered th,
purpose of weekly paper-the deacol
seemed in hurry to get home.
| 1t was the night OF the choir rehearsal
and in driving by the church he saw Mar
Mead, Miss Kezia's niece, going up th
steps. He suddenly whipped up his sleep,
old mare, and drove home at break. necl
rate of speed.
"Now's your time, Solomon Pinch, )" h
muttered to himself; ut mebbe Ion,
while afore yell hev' such n good chanc
lag'in. She'll be sure to be alone for
couple O. hours or so-Hi, old lady! n
stoppin' here tonight" headded, givinI
the lines sudden twist as Mary Jan
showed an inclination to stop before MIS-
Betsey Hills house, "we've other fish ;
fry now, old girl"
When he reached home he drove tn
mare under the horse'shed and tied he
there, instead of embarrassing her a
usual. Then he entered the house, and
hastily swallowing the scanty suppe
which the hired woman placed before him
donned his hest clothes and drove off agai
at rapid pace.
'Law sakes alivel" exclaimed the We
man, amazed. "The deacon's got sutf
in on his mind, sure It's the first tim
l ever knew him to disremember to ask
blessin'."
Ever since the doath of his wife Dcaco
lPinch had looked on Miss Kesla as he