The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1883-10-19

year.
Are there any of my city-bred young
folks who don't know what WOOL
picking is? 1t is careful picking over
of the wool after it has been sheared to
free it from burrs, brambles, berries,
Spanish-needles dry mud and dead in
sects that lively sheep will collect in
his rambles through the world. Further
north the sheep are taken to a sparkling,
running stream, and well washed be-
fore they are clipped; but in the stag
nant. coffee-colored creeks of the West
this would be useless ceremony.
"Not half dozen in the county to
help that foolish little woman" thought
Deb, wrathfully. "why couldn't she
have had her wool-picking week
ago?'
At any other time there would have
been no lack of neighbors to help the
widow in her need; but everybody was
taken up with the picnic. In the hard
work-a-day life of these people, few
pleasures arise; and in all the farm
houses through the Six-mile and the
Nine-mile Prairie this picnic had been
talked about for n month of Sundays.
They were going in buggies, wagons
and on foot; were to fish in Big-Muddy
Creek: to gather wild roses and black
berries; to light fire in the climber
so they call the wooded portions of
the fiat country-and make hot coffee
for dinner; and dance under the trees
after the rising of the big yellow moon.
Beyond all these attractions for Debby
there was one yet more powerful; young
Mr.. Thing-Hiram Thing-was to be
there. Now Deb was sixteen: and to
! her thinking, Hiram was an interesting
youth.
In fact, everybody, had good word
for Mr.. Thing. He had lovely farm.
to begin with. His sheep shea ed ten
pounds to the fleece; his wheat aver
aged thirty bushels to the acre. He had
a nice house; and since his mothers
death only his crippled little sister Jes-
sy to take care of it. 1t was plain to all
the gossips in the country that he need
ed wife. And all the girls liked him.
Alice Preston, with her bright black
eyes; Betty Browning, who could turn
out such loaf of bread as couldn't be
elualled in Perry County; Christy
Wicker, the shy Swiss girl; they would
all be casting line in Big Muddy and
smiling on Hiram Thing. Dcb's very
existence would be forgotten-so Deb
thought unless she should be there in
the white dress with the futed rulles.
She sat out on the porch looking up
to the sweet silent stars and thought it
over. In the sitting-room her father
dozed In his chair, with a newspaper
over his face to keep of the night-moths
and the stray flies that Were sleepily
st cking to the ceiling: her mother
nodded over ..his" half-darned stock
ing. The work for tie day was done.
Nothing between Deb and her con-
science.
She sat there so long. and was so
still, that finally her mother roused her
self to call: "Why. Debby, child. why
don't you come in? Have your wits
gone a-wool-gatherin' -
That's Just it, mothe:..' cried Deb,
with a laugh, though she brushed some
thing warm from her eyes as she spoke.
i've Just about concluded TO give up
the picnic and 90 to the wool-pickin'
''Debby Hornish. l thought your
heart was plum set on the picnic.
$50 thought myself. but it's little
more set on helpin Mis- Manly Git her
wool out. She is such shift less little
critter. An it'll be real misfortune for
her if she don't sell her wool for a good
price. So I'll Just go along and bear
my bob with the rest of you. And if
You don't mind, mother, I'll take over
the cakes and things l baked for the
picnic
That's good plan. honey, for 1
reckon she won't have much of din
ner."
BY "sun-up' the next morning Deb
and here mother were Off. As they
reached Mrs. Manly's gate, buggy
whirled up in cloud of dust. A voice
called: "Deb! Debby Hornish.''
"Well. welln' cried Mrs. Hornish,
s. If there amt Hiram and Jessy
Thingr'
"Why amt you on your way to the
picnic, Deb?" cried the young girl in
the buggy.
"Oh! you know wool-pickin' is such
fun" said Deb, with droll look, q
couldn't resist comm over and lendin'
n hand"
."Well, you girls are crazy" said Mr..
Thing, jumping out of the buggy;
there's Jessy, nothin' would do but
that she must come to the wool-pick-
in"
"That's natural enough, brother. 1
never did want to go to the picnic
much. What could l do on my
erutches amongst lot o. lively young
folks. should just been a drag on
you. But l can pick wool with any
body, so here l am. It's SO different,
however, with Deb.''
"Yes, indeed" cried Mr.. Thing,
eagerly. land now, Miss Deb, do let
me persuade you to change your mind
You see haven't any company now
that sis has deserted me- I'll be proud
if you'll let me drive you to the pic
mic. and keep company with you to
day."
Poor Deb! how handsome he looked
as he stood there twisting his fingers in
the horses name. Tall and slim, his
eyes as blue as his calico shirt, and
dancing with fun under his wide straw
hat. How nice, this warm day, to drive |
along the waving wheat fields. meeting |
the breeze as it ruffied the young corn: |
to fish under the shade of cottonwood |
tree. Much, much better than to sit in |
a stu1y room, picking brambles out of
wool.
do GO urged Jessy; ssyou know
I'm as good as two at wool-pickin'."
Whafbar roupp Mr. Tbinr,S cr,;la |