Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1882-10-05
MR.. .CULPEPPER' SCH0ICE.

envy Cousin Tom Culpepper is aeon
ing home," said the Widow Golding,
putting her head into the little kitchen
where her sister-in-law, Miss Jacassa
Golding, was doing the weeks baking.
81 must get new carpet for the sitting
room floor, and some chany ornaments
for the mantel-shelfs. Tom must be nigh
about forty years old now, quite an old
bachelor-and to think he wanted to
marry me once! but he was poor as Jobs
turkey then, and of course I wouldn't
hev' him. l s'pose it's on my account
he amt never married. Polly Gull
pepper needn't to think she's agoing
to git him, either" she went on,
shutting her thin lips decidedly to-
gether "He's rich as a Jew now,
and of course the girls will all be
asserting their caps for him. La! JAG
ASA, you needn't to color u SO; of
course didn't mean you. The idea of
an old maid like you, an humly at that,
a-tryin' to catch anybody, let alone a
rich man like Tom! He used to he my
sweetheart once" with an approving
glance at her own swapping black eyes
and plump figure, reflected in the little
mirror over the mantlepiece. "And of
course 1 shall stand the best chance of
any one. Besides, widows allus do at
tract tae most attention"
Miss Jacassa showed a squash pie into
the oven, and turned to her sister-in-
"When did you say he was coming,
Alvira?" she asked, wiping her flushed
face on a corner of her check apron.
Gust week from to-day. An that'll
give me time to fix up that lilac silk of
mine: TIN just do, now I'm a-putting
va Ell wish 1 could have a new Dress"
ventured Jacassa, hesitatingly.
"You? Dear Inc. Jacassa, what diff
ference does it make what you wear?
You won't never be anything but an old
maid, whatever you put on"
And the widow tripped away, while
Jacassa turned to her work with a bright
er flush on her face than that caused by
the heat.
If she was an old maid, Miss Jacassa
was by no means an uncomely one. Her
cheeks were as plump and rosy as ripe
June apple, and her abundant hair was
still as golden as primrose,
The widow was not given to procras-
tination, and the new carpet was soon
tackled down on the sitting room floor,
and the "chany" ornaments purchased
for the mantlepiece. In due time the
important day arrived.
''And my dress amt done yet!'' said
Mrs. Alvira, peevishly. I've got to sew
all day to get it done; and do hope,
Jacassa, you'll hev things nice: First
impressions is everything, though, of
course, all that we kin hev amt patch
in to what he's used to now. But Pm
bound Polly Culpepper shan't git him,
and crow over me with her skim-milk
blue eyes and sassy looking curls."
''Il do the best 1 can" promised JAG
| ASA, mentally wondering whether a
| ruled black apron would improve the
appearance OF her old black pongee, the
best dress she owned.
| And while Mrs. GoIding finished re-
modelling the lilac silk, Miss Jacassa
swept and busted and cleaned, washed
and ironed her white apron, and cooked
supper.
All was ready at last; the table was
set with the old-fashioned blue-fowered
china, the fried chicken was ready to
dish, and Miss Jacassa was slicing the
| jelly-cake.
/ 1 Mrs. Golding shook out her hounces
and fastened the crisp white ruche al
her throat with knot oflilac ribbon and
| Tom came. .e.
"What on earth is he staring about
so for?" thought the widow, as Tom con-
tinued to twist uneasily in his chair,
and gazed around the room, as if looking
for something.
At last when her patience was fairly
given out, it seemed as if Tom could
stand it no longer, and he burst forth
81 say, Alvira, where is Jack?"
What Jack?" queried his, cousin il
great bewilderment.
/ "Why, Jack-Jacassa Golding, Of
course. Amt she herep"
ooh, Jacassa- stammered
the widow. "She's out in the kitchen
She"
But Tom had bounced mp and rushed
out to the kitchen before the word
were fairly out of her mouth.
In another second he had Jacassa
white apron and all, in his arms, an,
had snatched half dozen kisses withou
stopping to take breath.
"What is the meaning of this?" de
handed the widow, aouncing out to tn
kitchen, purple with rage.
SIT means Jacassa is my promise,
wife, and mean to marry her tonight,
declared Tom, boldly.
And he kept his word much to the dis
gust of Alvira Golding and other femir
inc cousins.
i "She can't accuse me of being an oil
maid any more, at least" said Mrs. Tor
to herself, as she walked out of tn
church, leaning on her husbands arm.
But the Widow Golding has not 70,
given them yet.