The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1883-04-21

Brewster and her daughter Maria. Their
cottage was one of those which had It's
piazza across the front. Every summer
they trained morning-glories over it, and
planted their little garden with the
flower seeds popular in Leyden:: There
was not cottage in the whole place
whose surroundings were heater and
gayer than theirs, for all that they were
only two women, and two old women at
that; for Widow Martha Brewster was
in the neighoorhood Of eighty, and her
daughter, Maria Brewster, near sixty.
The two had lived alone since Jacob
Brewster died and stopped going to the
factory, some fifteen years ago. He had
left them this particular white cottage
and snug little sum in the savings
bank besides, for the whole Brewster
family had worked and economical all
their long lives. The women had corded
boots at home, while the man had
worked in the shop, and never spent a
cent without thinking of it overnight
Leyden folks all thought that David
Emmons would marry Maria Brewster
when her father died. ''David can rent
his house, and go to live with Maria and
her mother" said they, with an affec-
tionate readiness to arrange matters for
them. But he did not. Every Sunday
night at eight o'clock punctually the
form of David Emmons, arrayed in his
best clothes, with his stiff white dickey,
and nosegay in his button-hole, was
seen to advance up the road toward
Maria Brewster's, as he had been seen
to advance every Sunday night for the
last twenty-five years, but that was all.
He manifested not the slightest intention
of carrying out peoples judicious plans
for his welfare and Maria's.
She did not seem to pine with hope
deferred; people could not honestly think
there was any occasion to pity her for
her lovers hardness. A cheerier woman
never lived. She was literally bubbling
over with jollity. Round-faced and
black-eyed, with funny little bounce
of her whole body when she walked, she
was the merry feature of the whole
place.
Her mother was now too feeble, but
Maria still corded boots for the factories
as of old David Emmons, who was
quite sixty, worked in them, as he had
from youth. He was a slender, mild
faced old man, with fringe of gray
yellow beard around his chin; his head
was quite bald. Years ago he had been
handsome, they said, but somehow
people had always laughed at him a
little, although they all liked him. 1.-The
slowest of all the slow Leydenites'' out
siders called him, and even the "slow
Leydenites" poked fun at this exaggera-
ton of themselves. 1t was an old and
well-worn remark that it took David
Emmons an hour to 90 counting, and
that he was always obliged to leave his
own home at seven in order to reach
Maria's at eight, and there was a stand
ing joke that the meeting house passed
him one morning on his way to the shop.
David heard the chatting, of course;
there is very little delicacy in matters of
this kind among country people; but he
took it all in good part. He would
laugh at himself with the rest, but there
was something touching in his depreca-
tory way of saying sometimes: "Well,
| don't know how it's, but it don't seem
to be in my natur' to do any other way.
Isuppose | was born without the faculty
of gittin' along quick in this world.
| YOU have 60 e.;t t~l.i--a 49, push me
leetle, l reckon"
He owned his little cottage, which was
one of the kind which had the piazza on
the right side. He lived entirely alone.
There was half-acre or so of land be-
side his house, which he used for vege-
table garden. After and before shop
hours, in the dewy evenings and morn
ings, he dug and weeded aSSiduously be-
tween the green ranks of corn and
beans. If David Emmons was slow, his
vegetables were not. None of the gar
dens in Leyden surpassed his in luxuri-
ant growth. His corn tasselled out and
his potato patch was white with bios
SONS as soon as anybody's.
He was almost vegetarian in his diet;
the products of his garden spot were his
staple articles of food. Early in the
morning would the gentle old bachelor
set his pot of green things boiling, and
dine gratefully at noon, like mild Rob
ert Herrick, on pulse and herbs. HIS
garden supplied also his sweetheart and
her mother with all the vegetables they
could use. Many times in the course of
a week could David nave been seen
| OOWdlu VIC DIcWSucI COU-
tage with basket on his arm well
stocked with the materials for an inno-
cent and delicious repast.
But Maria was not to be outdone by
her old lover in kindly deeds. Not a
Saturday but goodly share of her
weekly baking was deposited, neatly
covered with white crash towel, on
David's little kitchen table. The sur
reptitious air with which the back-door
key was taken from its hiding-p place
(Which she well knew under the Kitchen
blind, the door unlocked and entered, and
the good things deposited was charming,
although highly Intellectual. "There goes
Maria with David's baking" said the
women, peering out of their windows as
she bounced, rather more gently and
cautiously than usual, down the street
And David himself knew well the min
istering angel to whom these benefits
were due when he lifted the towel and
discovered with fearful eyes the brown
loaves and flaky pies-the proofs of his
Maria's love and culinary skill
Amongst the younger and more irrev-
erent portions of the community there
was considerable speculation as to the
mode of courtship of these old lovers OF
twenty-five years standing. Was there
ever a kiss a tender CLASH of tho hand