The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1886-08-20
SO loving from the young husband 3

so loving from the young husbands 8
/ lips.
Only month or SO after the Squire
died Hannah took an old cousin
to live with her. They might have
lived on forever-the two lonely wo-
men---if it hadn't been that Deacon
Willis had lost his wife quite a spell
back. He. was good man and a
kind husband, but he couldn't 60 on
mourning forever and his six children
running wild So up to the farm he
went and asked Mrs. Dawson if she
would come and be mother to his
children.
1t was cute in him to put it that
way. He must have known she
couldn't bear to hear the word wife.
At first she was almost angry, but he
said: "We've both got our dead
there amt no call for US to forget
them-but you'll take hold of nv
children, and I'll always be kind to
you"
Then she consented to marry him,
and after the old farm was rented,
there was quiet wedding, and she
and the old cousin moved down to
the deacons. Now, l don't hold
much with stepmothers, but say she
must have been a good one. The
children were well looked after, and
happy too; but if there ever was
grave and quiet woman it was the
deacon's wife-the widow Dawson that
was.
In little while her child was born,
&nd by hard begging the father got
leave to call her Nancy, AS time
went on the Willis children grew up
two had died-got married, and move
ed of, until only Nancy was left in the
old house, the veriest sunbeam you
ever saw. and the Joy of her fathers
heart.
/ ! met her first here in Peabody on q
visit, and what with her sweet voice,
her pretty face, and her laugh like a
silver bell-why, in q week didn't
know if was on my head or my heels.
She didn't catch the fever as quick as
did, and when she went back l
couldn't get any kind of an answer,
and ! just tell you, felt bad. How
ever sent her a few papers, and then
some novels and book OF poems.
and at last got up my courage and
went over myself. Well, if l thought
her sweet before l don't know what
to call her in her own home, and the
deacon was a nice old man, but | will
own up to you that her mother gave
me shock the first time saw her.
She was n handsome woman, but
all the time talked to her | had a
| sort of a feeling that she was dead
her eyes, the same blue that Nanny's
were, We're the stillest, most unchang-
| ing that lever saw in living face.
She was kind as kindcould be-there
| was little child, the deacon grand
| that child, was always holding he.
skirts or climbing on her lap. She
pat it gently, kind OF smooth it down
in tender way and then sigh softly
not annoylngly-and turn away.
l never saw q man that set more
store by his wife, and Nanny thought
there was no one like her rmother-but
even her merry ways and sayings never
brought a smile to those grave, quiet
1 lips.
4 After I'd won my wife and brought
her home here / used sometimes to
ask her if she had never seen her
mother look any differentiated say,
nv lOJ hCNCL III llCI litG-dilu OIlt udF
sne told me what have told you.
We'd been married over a year and
our little Charley was beginning to
crow and jump when he saw me com.
ing, when the old deacon died, and we
went over to the funeral All the vii.
lises came home with their husbands
and wives and children, and ii the
widow had been their own mother
they couldn't have seemed to think
more OF her. She couldn't be more
quiet and sad than she always was,
5ut she grievod, / am sure, for the
deacon had been as he promised, al
ways kind, and don't believe they
ever had a word-not even the
foolish little spats that you make up
with kiss. We tried hard to
persuade my wife's mother to
come and live with us, and there
wasn't one OF her stepchildren but
asked her, too, and seemed to want
her. She wouldn't consent, though
she wanted her own home. There she
staid till our little May was born.
Charley was only baby. and Mamie
seemed delicate. SO at last l persuad.
ed her to make her home with us, and
/ will say that a nicer, kinder, more
sensible woman to live in the house
with | never expect to see ii she
could only have walked up and enjoy
ed herself q little-now, understand, 1
never had a feeling, nor had any one
else, that ever knew, that she didn't
like other folks to have q good time.
She'd do everything she could to
make things bright and lively for peo-
pie and then 90 quietly away.
One day, as she sat rocking the
baby had been watching her forsome-
time, and lsaid:
"Mrs. Willis, did all yoursmies and
laughter go down with that ship"
She gave a start and looked at me
for one second, then her eyes dropped,
and she said, slowly:
"L am afraid all my life did,"
Well, one day seven years ago, it
was harvest time, came round from
the side porch, where Nanny and the
| two help were busy making sandwich
es for the men, to the front door.
/ had been wasting q little time
watching Nanny, she looked so pretty,
1 cutting the bread so fast and then
| packing the things in the basket with
her Little white hanas. ] heard the
baby babbling to her grandmother,
and as | came around the corner OF
the house saw my wites mother
standing on the porch in the shadow
OF the Madeira vines, a little apron
she was making in her hand, the baby
/ playing with some roses at her feet.
1t made q nice picture, and l stopped
| to look at it-I can see that grave
face now with it's settled, mournful
look-though have never seen it
since.
/ just as commenced to speak the