Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1883-10-18

| 81 tuey Cdllcu tuO NOOutQ pOItlOA VI eAe
fiat country-and make hot coffee fol
dinner, and dance under the trees after
the rising of the big yellow moon. Be
yond 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 think
ing Hiram was an interesting youth.
In fact, everybody had good word
for Mr.. Thing. He had lovely farm
to begin with His sheep sheared ten
pounds to the fleece; his wheat averaged
thirty bushels to the acre. He had a
nice house; and since his mothers death
only his crippled little sister Jessy to take
care of it. 1t was plain to all the gossips
in the country that he needed wife.
And all the girls liked him. Alice Pres
ton, with her bright black eyes Betty
Browning, who could turn out such a
loaf Of bread as couldn't be equaled in
Perry county Christy Wicker, the shy
Swiss girl; they would all be casting a
line in Big Muddy and smiling on Hiram
Thing. Deb's very existence would be
forgotten-so Deb thought-unless she
should be there in the white dress with
the futed ruffles.
She sat out on the porch looking up
to the sweet silent stars and thought il
over In the sitting room her father
dozed in his chair, with newspaper over
his face to keep off the night-moths and
the stray flies that were sleepily sticking
to the ceiling her mother nodded over
"his " half-darned stocking. The work
for the day was done. Nothing between
Ded and her conscience.
She sat there SO long, and was so still,
that finally her mother reused herself to
call: Why, Debby, child why don't
you come in Have your wits gone a
wool-gatherin' ~
"That's just it. motherI' cried Deb,
with laugh, though she brushed some
thing warm from her eyes as she spoke.
"Tve just about concluded to give up
the picnic and go to the wool-pickin'."
"Debby Hornish! I thought your
heart was plum set on the picnic"
So thought myself; but it's little
more set on helpin' Mis- Manly git her
wool out. She is such a shif'less little
critterl An it'll be real misfortune for
her if she don't sell her wool for good
price. So I'll just 60 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 baked for the picnic. =
"That's good plan. honey, for l
reckon she won't have much of din
ner."
By "sun-up" the next morning Deb
and her mother were off. AS they
reached Mrs Manly's gate a buggy whirled
up in a cloud of dust. A voice called,
Debl Debby Hornishp'
"Well, WELT" cried Mrs. Hornish, "if
there amt Hiram and Jessie Thingln
"Why amt you on your way to the
picnic, Deba' cried the young girl in the
buggy.
"ohl you know wool-pickin' is such
fun," said Deb, with droll look; ~
couldn't resist comm over and lendin' a
hand"
"Well, you girls are crazy" said Mr..
Thing, jumping out of the buggy
"here's Jessy, nothin' would do but
that she must come to the wool-pickin'
"That's natural enough, brother.
never did want to 60 the picnic much.
What could do on my crutches among
a lot O lively young folks. should just
a been drag on you. But can pick
wool with anybody; so here I am. It's
different, however, with Deb"
"Y Yes, indeed" cried Mr. Thing, eag-
erly; "and now, Miss Deb, do let me
persuade you to change your mind You
see l haven't any company now that sis
has deserted me. I'll be proud if you'll
let me drive you to the picnic and keep
company with you to-day"
Poor Debl how handsome he looked
as he stood there twisting his fingers in
the horses mane. Tall and slim, his
eyes as blue as his calico shirt, and dan
cling 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
stuffy room, picking brambles out Of
wool.
Do 60" urged Jessy; "you know
I'm as good as two at wool-pickin'."
Whether young Mr.. Things smile was
too confident, or Deb's own heart re-
preached her, know not; but at any
rate she said resolutely.
"pll run a race with you in wool
pickin', Jessy Thing, an that's all there
is of that"
In the Widow Manly's house there were
two rooms. One the kitchen, dining and
company room with two beds in the
corner; the other sleeping room for the
widow and her children. 1t was here too
that she retired to weep over her mis-
cries; solace necessary only too often.
By the time they had fairly got to
work four more were added to the
party, grandmothers all too old to care
for picnics. Grandma Bixby y took the
lead; she was as spry as girl, and said