The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1881-07-16

| "SAAO1i AANoglJ atllhS-tttSCE uIl VIII
lin to embrace matrimonial opportuni-
ties. They'll snap at an offer like a
hungry trout at worm. She has got
the money, and I hev' got tho PROM.
nence and influence; that's pint not to
be overlooked; and deacons isn't to be
had every day. Put her money and my
influence together, and T rather guess
We'll stand about top O the hemp in New
Bethany"
Miss Keziah was sitting by the table,
knitting as usual. She had just begun
to narrow for. the toe of the stocking,
when step sounded on tho walk She
threw down the stocking and opened the
door, and holding the lamp high above
head, her eyes rested upon the amazing
spectacle of the deacon in MI the Sunday
magnificence of white shirt and shiny
black broadcloth. "Well, neverl' she
| calculated, and then, feeling that her
| reception had been hardly hospitable,
she lowered the lamp and said kindly:
| "Come in, deacon--come in"
'"Thank ye, thank ye; don't mind if
| 1 dew"
'"Take seat, deacon"
s"Thank ye; I don't mind if T dew
| The deacon surveyed the attractive
room, which, with its cheery fire and
comfortable cushioned chairs, seemed n
veritable paradise in comparison with
his llntidy, ill-kept home. He placed his
hat on the floor beside his chair, display
ing his scanty gray locks ingeniously
plastered over the top Of his head so rs
to cover as much of the bald surface as
possible. Then there was long pause.
'Anything going, on deaoon?" asked
Miss Keziah, resuming her knitting.
She was greatly puzzled to account for
those Sunday clothes.
| "Nothin' within the range of my
observation. There wont be much agoin'
on now till lection time; things'll be
pretty lively then."
"Want to buy any hay this year?"
chirped Miss Keziah. "Mine is extra
good this season, my hired man says it's
the best harvest yield in town."
tI rayther guess I'll hev' enough to
carry me thro' the winter. If I don't
shall know where to come for hay as is
hay. 1 declare your farm does beat all |
[ feel kind O. rugged like when 1 think
| the best farm in town is managed by n
| woman"
! Miss Keziah smiled graciously, and
the deacon drew his chair little nearer
his hostess. ''lt must be great load
| for ye to carry alone. such large farm
is tremendous responsibility for q lone
woman"
ooh, I don't mind it; It keeps me
proper busy"
The deacon hitched his chair along q
few inches farther. eyed oughter hcv'
| q brother or cousin, or some relative
| like, to share the burden with ye'."
"My shoulders are plenty strong"
returned Miss Keziah, good naturedly.
"I'm glad to show folks that there are
| women who are good for something be-
sides giddy- -gaddying and tattling
| "Yis, yis;" answered the deacon
eve can all testify to your valley and
worth. You're real honor to your SEX
You're-you're n bright and shinin' bea-
con light to the tritflin' and vain-minded
women of the world" and the speaker
waved his hand at the conclusion of this
little oratorical flourish.
Then hitch, hitch, hitch went the
chair Miss Keziah-ward. "Don't you
feel sort O lonely at spells" he asked,
insinuatingly.
Miss Keziah glanced suspiciously at
the rapidly advancing chair. She drop
ped her knitting and went to the fire and
piled up the blazing sticks of wood.
Then she came back to the table, and
sot her chair on tho farther side of it,
thus putting barrier between her and
her visitor. 'I'm never lonely, deacon :;
plenty to do is the best medicine for
loneliness.
"But woman's n tender, dependent
creatur'. Woman's vine," here tho
deacon took up his weekly prayer-meet-
ing drawl, "nnd needs suthin' to cling to
when the trollblous, desolatin' waves and
winds O. affliction and sorrer roll over
her.
"Stuf and nonsensep' exclaimed Miss
Keziah, with q contemptuous sniff. II
shouldn't have expected that man of
your sense, deacon, would repeat such
silly trash. I have no patience with the
people who are always talking as if
women couldn't stand alone, and needed
propping up like rag doll TINT hadn't t
any backbone. I'm no vine--or such
creeping, helpless thing, can tell you.
I can stand alone rs we'll as anybody if
the Lord 80 wills it, altho' 1 admit,
deacon, that its pleasanter to have some
one keep you company"
"That's jest it; ye hey' hit tho mil
squar' on the head! It's pleasanter to
heV company on our sojourn on this
mortal earth."
The deacon seized his chair with both
hands, and by q cirouitous line of hitch
ing placed it within three foet of Miss
Keziah's table. ''You're forehanded
woman, Miss Keziah; I'm 'man of
prominence and influence in the commu-
nifty; it seems to mo that it would be q
good thing if We could walk hand-in-
hand thro' this vale of tears. Providence
seems to pint it's finger that way" The
deacon was thinking ut that very moment
of the money he would save by thrifty
manager like Miss Keziah in tho place
of his, inefficient, yasteful, hired woman.
Miss Keziah was dumbfounded. She
dropped her knitting, and the ball of
yarn rolled across the floor. "Mcrcy !"
, she finally gasped.
.I'll make yo a first rate husband, and
yell make mo good wife. We've been
members of the same church for 80 years
| or moro, and we've been 'membcrs Of tho