Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1885-10-01

together for so long. Marthy, the girl
thet used ter work over to the Shows,
told me tibet they'd set up together
good many nights, N he used ter
bring her peppermints and religious
books with his n her names writ in
'em. But Lori Matildy Jane hez al
wers bin hevin' beau ever since she
left off pantaIettes. Once twas the
schoolmaster that comes from over
Bonny Big way. Folks said they
was a goin' to git married right away,
N then he disappeared like thief In
the night, n wern't seen in these
parts any more. Nobody didn't know
Jest why tibet didn't come to nothin',
but I heard thet Matildy Jane said
(you know she's real active profess
sor), tibet she shouldn't feel herself
justified in hevin' a man tibet didn't
enjoy gospel privileges no more'n he
did. Then twas Deacon Thompson,
when he was widower. He used to
go over'n sing hymns with Matildy
Jane most every eyenin', IA she
baked up a lot O plum cake n was
partial to his little July in her Sun
day-school class, m he took her to
ride over to Sand Point grave yard,
where his first wife was buried. But
that didn't come to nothing neither.
They were both ov 'em tempsry, N
fell out about southin'. Matildy Jane
hain't no beauty, but she's good
housekeeper, m a Illustrate good
woman, tho she may be trife sot.
All the Shows is sot. l know'd 'em
root and branch, n eff they kent hev
their own way they're dreadful liable
to fire up. This slick~looking minis
ter, Parson Whitcomb, wanted her
fur her money, they say. He was
younger'n she, n picter of man,
with red cheeks, n curley hair. But,
Lord she amt got much money; she
let that good for nothin' brother ov
hers waste good pile that belonged
to her on his eddication. He was a
lazy soul, but was called, as he said,
to be a missiouery; n eff he can make
himself agreeable to the heather, I
Suppose it's as well as he could do. His
rooms better'n his company here"
Mrs. Bragdon pauses, quite out of
breath, and regards me with earnest
appeal.
81 can tell you why she didn't
marry the minister" says I, with the
true air of profound mystery and
deep importance which is character
ietic of the real Bramleigh gossip"
She gives a great start, removes the
spectacles from her well-polish9d
forehead, draws her chair several in>
ches nearer my own, allows the cat to
play with the ball OF her knitting work
with the most reckless indifference,
and exclaims: You don't say?' in
tone of mingled suspense and rap>
ture.
Whereupon, after the usual pre-
liminaries, the ekhortation to eternal
secresy, the hesitation and delibera~
tons which, somehow, seemed to
heighten the enjoyment of the ex-
pectant listener, I then began my
tale:
1.-The first year 7 visited Bramleigh
l used to go and see Miss Matilda Jane
very often, you know. went past
her house on my way to Morrill's
meadow, where the orchids grow, and,
stopping. at the gate to admire her
flowers one day. she came out and
presented me with a lovely bouquet of
spice pinks and lavender. Then, one
day, when I was heated with my long
walk, she invited me into the house
to have a glass of her raspberry shrub
and | accepted the invitation with
pleasure, for it looked cool and In
viting inside the wide, breezy old
hall.
"'Good gracious = said Matilda Jane
I shouldn't never get my breath
again If / walked as far as Morrill's
meadow. [ wish you would always
drop in here and rest awhile whenever
you take walk in this direction. I
see so few strangers that my eyes fair
ly ache for the sight of one, and when
I have time to be, I'm dreadful lonc>
some
$50 I sat with her some time, try
ing to make myself agreeable; but, as
the lady is not little deaf, and was
not aware of it at that time, we did
not get GA very well at first"
"'Deaf as post-deaf as the back
side of a meeting house of week
days. assented my listener, warm
~.
"Rut I called again and again, and
after awhile we became very good
friends. I liked the quaint old house,
with its large, low~ceiled rooms, the
huge freplaces filled with evergreen
boughs, the old-fashioned furniture
and ornaments brought from over the
sea by sailor relatives, the house plants
IN the wide windows seats, and the
scriptural tiles in the chimney piece.
Then the Maux cat and the parrot
were sources of unfailinp amusement
Didn't you see the parson- NATL
da James beau-when you was theres"
asks Mrs. Bragdon, breathlessly I'M
patient for the announcement Of the
story
"Why. yes; I'm coming to that
presently" said I, with wicked DELHI
Grafton, as Il stroke the back of the
tortoise shell eat, who has seated her
self in my lap and basking delightful~
ly in the warm glow of the fire.
Her father, old Capt'n John,
didn't take no fancy to him at fust-