McCook weekly tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 188?-1886, 1884-04-17

fond o. sunAowers let 'em go to raisin'
'em By the CARLOAD! They're excel
lent chicken fodder, as everybody
knows. did see whole acre on 'em
once all CROWN together; they were
in full blow, and looked GURUS enough
with their big round faces turned to-
ward the sun. Oscar Wilde says, you
know, that they resemble lion; and
they do look about as wise and know
in.
"There's nothin' like work for keep
in girls out o. mischief, !" she is fond OF
saying.
"When our girls leave school let 'em
take right hold and help their mothers
with the Homework and the plain sew
in and takin' care of the baby, and then
they won't be hankerin' to paint old
pots and jars or to embroider sage-green
curtains and table cloths. Though
why that color is called sage-green
can It imagine; it certainly Amt the col
or of any sage that ever grew in my
garden; and its unaccountable to me
that SO many folks nowadays prefer
such dirty faded out colors that you
can't look at without feelin' sick and
faint, when there's plenty of pretty.
bright ones, that will wash and bile,
as it were.'
Aunt Bethia is born nurse, and as
such is recommended by the sHoller''
folks with as much enthusiasm as their
own favorite spring bitters, or cough
remedy.
She is indeed excellent in case o.
Sickness" and she comes ut such times
like veritable angel of mercy, bring
ing with her soft voice and gentle,
soothing ways, not forgetting the noise
less slippers and white apron.
Aunt Bethia is, suppose, all old
maid; but there is no bitter blight of
disappointment upon her life.
She has never loved and her unwoven
heart is still fresh with the dews of
youth. Though her lovely hair is just
beginning to be threaded with gray,
she knows not the feeling of growing
| old, neither do the passing years bring
any definite sense OF want to her peace
full sunny nature, except, perhaps,
sometimes dreamy feeling of incom-
pleteness, like the faintest shadow only
of pain.
Her city nieces tell her often, with
many hug and caress, that her face
is the sweetest and dearest in all the
world, that she looks s'quite too utter
ly' quaint and lovely in her pretty
white aprons; and she always answers
deprecatingly:
"But, oh, my dears, am so old-fash-
ioned!"
Nevertheless, when she is alone she
looks in the glass and bushes warmly,
half inclined to believe their sweet
words, and wholly glad that she is not
yet. growing homely, though she feels
little guilty, too, as if see ought to do
so. Then she turns away and sighs
softly; she knows not why.
Now, fate had ordained that when
Aunt Bethia came to visit in our family
we should be entertaining, as an hon
ored guest, our Uncle Jeremiah Bar.
ker, or "Uncle jerry as we children
familiarly called him, though he was
only distant relative on my fathers
side.
He had been knocking about for the
last fifteen years or so in Australia, and
having amassed considerable fortune,
returned now to his native CITY, with
the hope of ending his uays among his
kindred.
He was unmarried; and hidden So
cretly away in his rugged bachelor
heart was the long-cherished dream of
wife and fireside of his own.
But after spending the best part of
his life in rough toll, separated from all
society of woman-or, in fact, society
of any sort-he found himself laboring
under great disadvantages.
The girlsl that he knew and played
with when he was boy had grown so
far awayfrom him IN many directions
that he felt he had no part or lot with
them, and so, slowly and sadly, the
hope of years began to fade away.
1t was just here that dear old-fash-
Toned Aunt Bethia came into his life;
and from the first moment of their
meetiny Uncle Jerry had appropriated
her in his heart of hearts, as the one
woman specially provided for him, and
straightway elected her to preside over
that ideal future he had dreamed of.
In short, for the first time in his life
he found himself passionately in love,
and, as men of his years are apt to do
|
s'short work. of his wooing.
Accordingly he spent one week in
watching her every word and action
and in studying her face from under
his shaggy eyebrows while hs pretend
ed to read his newspaper.
Another week he devoted to following
her about and waiting upon her with
such alarming assiduity that the little
BILE at she knew not what.
Finally, he grew impatient to know
his fate.
"What is the use of beating about
the bushp' he said to himself, in his
blunt fashion; ''if she don't fancy me
now, she never will, and may as well
know it."
So he came in upon her one after
MON aho kniftinO hxy tho