The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1882-05-12

stav thome. faint likely that Deacon
Bliss will give you chance to say yes q
second time.
There had been good deal of pleas
urable excitement in receiving the pro-
lessor. To dress herself in her best
mourning and to sing her favorite songs
to an appreciative listener had been
something to look toward to during the
humdrum work of the day. The thought,
however, of what her acnuaintances
were saving about her embittered her
life, and when the professor again called
one glance at her face told him that she
knew all.
"Dear Mrs. Appledore," he began,
but she checked him.
"You had better go home to your
wife, MIR. Smith," she said coldly.
Tears, real tears, came into the pro-
fessor's big blue eyes. "But love you,"
he cried, "and she has always been an
incubus upon my soul"
"But she's your wife. persisted Mrs.
Appledore.
"I know it," moaned the professor,
rubbing his brow distractedly. cit eats
out my vitals when / think Of it. She
don't feel as 1 feel. There's no wings
for me as long as l am tied to her.
We've no affinity"
Mrs. Appledore gazed at him in dull
wonder. These were almost the words
she had used to her sister, but they did
not sound pleasantly now.
81 love you, Rosetta" went on the
little man, approaching her; "and L
want to ask you just one question
Were L a single man would you marry
me?"
81 might" admitted the widow,
smoothing down fold in her overskirt
with trembling hand.
Enough ~ and the professor flung
his arms about her and pressed rap
turous kiss upon her forehead. "Bless
you, my darling - and before she could
answer him he was gone.
The next evening when Mrs. Apple
dore was taking down her washing from
the line she was suddenly clasped from
behind by pair of strong arms You
will soon be mine." said the voice of the
professor. "Pve offered my wife $50 to
leave me and she has accepted
accepted" the widow cried, wrench
ing herself free.
" Yes, and as soon as can sell my
book she shall go. I've lived in soul
isolation long enough. My heart has
found its mate"
All the men that Mrs. Appledore knew
were quaint of speech and somewhat
rustic in manner, but what they consid-
cred duty controlled their lives. /" You
wretch, she cried, dashing the clothes
pin basket at him. "Fifty dollars !!
You amt worth 80 cents. GO home,
and never dare to speak to me again I"
"Hear me-" he pleaded, catching hold
! of her gown.
81 can't stay out here and listen to
philanderin' talk" she answered reso-
lutely, and twitching her dress from his
grasp she entered the house. But the
professors hand was upon the latch.
Like most little women, the widow was
a curious mixture of timidity and cour-
age. She flung the door open. Don't
you dare to come in p she cried.
"Tn throw hot water on you I'll
I'll kill you !" Then, slamming the
door in his face, she bolted it securely.
All the evening the professor paced
up and down Mrs. Appledore's back
veranda. The next evening he again
appeared, and the next, and the widow,
thoroughly alarmed, sent the bravest
twin out the front way with note to
her brother-in-law.
Mr.. Phlox delighted in anything that
could be called proceedings, and in q
few minutes he had the Deputy Sheriff
and two constables, and went marching
down the principal street with them, to
the great delight of all the small boys of
the village. 1t was impossible for the
professor to escape. The officers crept
around the house noiselessly. The Sher-
iff collered him, the constables pinioned
his arms, Mr.. Phlox grabbed him by the
coat-tails, and away he was walked to
the village lookup.
Mrs. Appledore passed a sleepless
night she imagined the whole town
was wide awake and discussing her, and
long before daybreak she had resolved to
sell her home and Dixville bank stock
and move West. "Pve got my comeup-
ance," she groaned. "Ive always been
romantic, and wanted a romance such us
I've read about, an I've had one. Oh,
dear oh, dear
About 8 o'clock in the morning there
came lively rap at the kitchen door,
and, unstrung by excitement and loss of
sleep, she shrieked aloud.
sony me on'y Deacon Bliss, cried
pleasant voice through the keynote.
Mrs. Appledore slid back the bolt
with trembling fingers. "How thankful
I am" she said, holding out her hand
"I feel SO in need Of somebody"
"'Twas fortinet come along jes' as
did, then," said the deacon, taking of
his straw hat and wiping his face with
his ample baudana. 1t was shrswd
though benevolent face, framed in waves
of iron-gray hair. 81 see you look
kinder peeked. The weather has been
tryin'. I've felt it myself, and ached in
my joints the wust way"
ITS my soul, Deacon" walled the
widow, dropping into a chair and cover.
ing her face with her apron. "Tve al.
ways hankered after romance, an I've
had one, and wish was dead and laid
beside Caleb"
"Oh, no we don't, Miss Appledore,
said the deacon, in the caressing tone in
which he would address a sobbing child
"This world is pooty good place, an
with a few exceptions, folks are pooty
good. i come over to fetch few of nv