The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1881-06-02
MARTHY'S WOOING.
The Romance Of u Winter Event ng.

The Romance Of u Winter Evening.
We lived not two miles from a busy little
city whose bells mellowed by water for the
river ran between it and us} blew cheerily
over to our ears, whose roofs and steeples
flashed in our eyes all day under tho warm
sunshine, and whose lights, red and glanc-
ing, cheered our sense of isolation on lone
~ nights. We were isolated, indeed; there
was no house near us Oh either side
The village at our back was as far away
of us were waste lands, through which ran
the wide white turnpike, climbing high hills
and getting lost between tall trees as it left
the river.
In the day time wheels rumbled busily
enough along its track in the summer, and
in the winter sleighs and farm -sleds, with
their merry bells. But after nightfall few
vehicles passed the house, with the excep-
.tion OF the belated stage, which, with its
cleaning lanterns, was al enchanted spec
'tacle to us children as it rolled away into
1.-THE unseen country beyond. No travellers
were abroad especially in the winter even
ings, with the exceptions of tramps, but
these were sometimes numerous; and as
our house stood upon the top of high hill
its lights were seen for long distance,
and beckoned all sorts Of Migrants to the
denG.
1t was wild February evening, with
fierce northeastel hurting binding sheet
of snow against the windows, hiding and
muff1ing the city noise and lights and oblit-
'erating all signs of the highway III its drift
and whirl. Feeling as far removed from,
the world as if We were keeping light
house on desolate island, the family were
congregated in the wide, low walled sitting
room, which was cheerful enough with
lampliKht and fire, in spite of the inlrrison-;
ed feeling which = snow storm will give
even those who 1.-Two. in thickly populated
neighhorhoods. One played ON the piano
the ttful, half sad, half merry strains of an
old waltz. One worked; with an air of alb
sorption In bright colored worsted, Whine
all the others, with the exception Of us
children. were contentedly walled behind
books and newspapers. 49,
Having been kept in the house all day by
the storm, we were beginning to find pic.
ture- books and dolls monotonous, and not
being alive to the beauty of the passionate
strains of Chopin. we retired to the kitchen,
hoping to find 'Marthy," or chief "help,"
an story telling mood. But one glance at
her face assured Us that the situation was
hopeless. Her fingers were engaged in a
too solemn occupation to allow such frivol-
sous use of her tongue at the same time.
She was sewing Methodist buttons on
Methodist apron with strong, even 1letho-
dist thread. That is. to speak more intel
lie bly, she was making an apron for the
fairin aid Of the Methodist church across
the river, of which she was a member, with
buttons and thread thet came from the store
of a Methodist brother. :
Maythy scorned to sew with secular
thread; she seemed to think that her labor
would not be blessed in this case, .-an9 TO
Tor buttoning her garments with secular
buttons, it was not to be thought of for q
1noment. So, though the bottoms which
she Was fastening to the child's apronEwere
much to large and corse for the delicate
blue cambria of which it was fashioned,
that they came from the Methodist broth
ser,s establishment. and the orphan who was
destined to wear it would not be buttoned
out Of the gospel, were sufficient reason to
her for rs eing them instead of procuring
more suitable ones at another shop.
Marthy-she would not allow any one to
prOnoun her nano NIortha-wa, always
doing things in the gospel. Fifteen years
before. when she bought her black silk-she
still called it her new black silk-my moth
er advised her to discard the frail and ex-
tremely ugly and unsuitable buttons which
she bought at Turner's, the Methodist store,
for those Of better quality which could be
secured at the largest establishment in
town.
should like them better buttons, Mis-
jones'" said she, "the best is allus cheap
est in the end, catilate, but I don't hold
to buyin' of 'em out er the gospil, n Turner
carnt afford to keep no better. Folks in
our meetin' is poor, you know"
"But you bought your dress at Hunts"
said my mother, half puzzled, half amused.
"Yis, he'd to do tibet or go without the
gownd. Turner don't never have silk, but
I,kinder fraid twas extravagant buyin of it
ct all; n sinful too, to pay SO much money
o my own meetin'. Goodness knows I'm
keerful srnuff rs gineral thin about payin'
out anything for what haint strictly useful,
though, an do kinder injoy silk Sundays,
fur it's the fust one ever he'd. Even the
Elders wife thets the salt O the airth n
dretful unworldly wears one. But, Mis-
Jones, eff I should buy the buttons at
Hunts too, I should feel as if was but
toned clean out O. the gospil, trues you
live. You Zee Hunts gains goes to sport
worldliness n frivolty, but Turner's, what
he gifts, poor soul, goes to the gespil."
MY mother did not exactly understand
this. as it was we'll known that all poor Tur-
ners gains which did not 60 for bread and
butter were spent by his dissolute son in
rioteus living, but she said nothing. and
Marthy wore long lengths of purple Meth
odist ribbon to hide the ugly buttons.
when merry shall merry in the gospil,"
she very frequently said with an air of I'M
conquerable determination. And she was
still preparing for matrimony, as she had
been for thirty years or more (she was past
SO now, with the most matter of-cour5e
80
hold linen which she was storing away from
year to year was something remarkable,
and although great deal of it had. grown
yellow with age, she was very fond of dis
playing it for admiring friends, and was
not in the slightest degree disturbed by any
unfoundcd or -natured insinuations that
she might never have any use for the house.
hold treasures.
MarthJ had net been without her oppor-
tunities, it is true. She was not beautiful
to look upon, her features having the ap-
pearance of being unnaturally elongated,
like face in the bowl of spoon, queer
candle mold figure, and skin both red
and wrinkled, like that Of a frost bitten ap-
pie. But she was as industri ous as q bee,
neat as wax, and, rs her friends remarked,
spry as a cricket, n didn't pear no older
though she did work for a living, she was
by no means obelged to do So. She pos
sessed quite fortune, we'll invested in
bank and railroad stock, and was quite IA
nous in her meeting" as o woman of
means.
In the first place the railroads had seen
fit to cross one corner of the snug little
piece of land by the river, which her father
had left her when he died, twenty-five
years before. Then they took a notion to
build wharves on the remainder of the land
as the lille city increased in size, and
Marthy shrewdly held on to her possessions
until nearly all the commerce. crept up in
that direction. Then she got what prices
she saw fit to demand for it; and found her.
self richer and of more consequence than
she had ever dreamed of being, even in her
extravagant youth, when she aspired to
marrying Presiding Elder!
"But faint no sign that I should setn
twiddle my thumbs COZ I've got little
property" she said, and still kept house
for Deacon Hobbs. who lived out in the
country, and WAS q widower with seven