The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1886-02-25

| Perhaps you'll change your mind some
day"
She did. and speedily, too. That glimpse
| of Marcy Wilson's pretty, new face-for
| too much for George Elliot. He obtained
an introduction, and soon was a steady
| visitor at Esther Barney's house. Marcy
| fell in love with him easily. She had never
had much attention from the young men,
and he was an engaging young fellow,
| small and bright-eyed, though with
nervous persistencY like his mothers in his
manner.
I'm going to have it an understood
| thing" Marcy told Esther, after her lover
had become constant in his attentions,
that I'm going with George, and amt
going with his mother. l can't bear that
| old woman"
But poor Marcy found that it was not so
| easy to thrust determined old age off the
| stage, even when young Love was flying
about so fast on his butterfly wings that he
! seemed to multiply himself, and there was
no room for anything else, because the air
was so full of Loves. That old mother,
with her trailing black skirt and her wiry
obstinacy, trOtted asUnwaveringly through
| the sweet stir as ghost through a door.
One Monday morning Marcy could not
eat any breakfast, and there were red stains
| around her blue eyes.
why, what's the matter, Margy!" asked
Esther, eying her across the little kitchen
table.
''Nothing's the matter. 1 amt hungry
any to speak of, that's all guess I'll go
right to work on Mis- Fuller's bonnet"
I'D try an eat something if | was you.
Be sure you cut that velvet straight, if you
go TO work on it"
When the two were sitting together at
| their work in the little room back of the
shop, Marcy suddenly threw her scissors
down. There said she. Eve done it; |
knew | /
knew | should cuteverything bias touched
to-day" There was a droll quicker on hr
mouth; then it began to culver. She hid
her face in her hands and sobbed, 30,
dear, dear,n
Marcy Wilson, what is the matter?'
George and had a talk last night.
We've broke the engagement an it's
killing me. An now I've cut this velvet
bias. o, dear, dear, dear, dear!''
For the lands sake. don't mind any
thing about the velvet What's come
betwixt you an George!"
His mother-horrid old thing, He said
| she'd got to live with us, and l said she
shouldn't. Then he said he wouldn't marry
any girl that wasn't willing to live with his
mother, and | said he wouldn't ever marry
me, then. IF George Elliot thinks more of
his mother than he does of me. he can have
her. l don't care. I'll show him can get
along without him.
well, don't know. Marcy. I'm real
sorry about it. George ElliOt's a good,
likely young man; but if you didn't want
to live with his mother, il was better to say
so right in the beginning. And l don't
know as | blame you much; she's pretty set
in her ways"
Il guess she is. never could bear her
guess he'll find out"
Marcy dried her eyes defiantly. and took
up the velvet again. I've Spoilt this vel
vet don't see why being disappointed in
love ShOuld offapt GIRL SOS tn la bpT.
cut bias"
There was whimsical element in Marcy
which seemed to roll uppernost along with
her grief.
Esther looked little puzzled. ''Never
mind the velvet, child; it amt much, any
way" She began tossing over some ribbons
to cover her departure from her usual reti-
cence. I'm real sorry about it, Marcy.
Such things are hard to bear, but they can
be lived through. l know something about
it myself. You knew I'd had some of this
kind of trouble. didn't your
about Mr. WOOdman. you mean?"
Yes, about Marcus Woodman. I'll tell
you what tits, Marcy Wilson, you've got
one thing to be thankful for, and that is
that there amt any thing ridickerlous
about this affair of yourn. That makes it
the hardest of anything, according to my
mind-when you know that everybody's
laughing, and you can hardly help laugh
ing yourself, though you feel most ready
to die
''Ain't that Afr. Woodman crazy?'
''NO, he amt crazy; he's got too much
will for his common-Sense, that's all, and
he will teeter the sense a little too far into
the air. ] see all through il from the be-
ginning. could read Marcus Woodman
jest like book"
81 don't see how in the world you ever
come to like such a man."
well, s'pose loves the strongest when
there amt any good reason for it. They
say it is. can't say as l ever really adj
mired Marcus Woodman much. l al
ways see right through him; but that didn't
hinder my thinking so much of him that
never felt as if l could marry any other
man. And I've had chances, though l
shouldn't want you to say So"
You turned him off because he went
to sitting on the church steps!'
"Course did Do you s'pose was going
to marry man who made laughing
stock of himself that way!"
Il dent see how he ever come to do it.
It's the funniest thing ever heard Of"
Il know it. 1t seems so silly nobody d
believe it. Well, all there is about it, Mar
Gus Woodlands got so much mulishness in
him it makes him almost miraculous. You
Sec he got up an spoke in that church
meeting when they had such a row about
Mr.. MortOn's being settled here-Marcus
was awful set again him. | never could
see any reason why, and don't think he
could. He said Mr.. Morton want doc
trinal: that was what they all said; but l
don't believe half of 'em knew what doc
trinal was. IneveI could see why Mr.. Nor
ton want as good as most ministers
enough sight better than them that treated
him so, anyway. / always felt that they
was really setting him in pulpit high over
their heads by using him the way they did,
though they didn't know it"
well, Marcus spoke in that church meet
an hp larAr ri
every word he said He always had a way
of saying things over and over, as if he
was making steps out OF EN-. an raising of
himself up on EN-, till there was no NOV
ing him at all. And he did that night.
Finally, when he was up real high, he said |
as for him, if Mr.. Morton was set5led over
that church, he'd never go inside the door
himself long he lived. Somebody
spoke out them never quite knew who
twas, though / suSpected-an says:
You'll have TO set on the steps, then,
Brother Woodman.'
Everybody laughed at that but Marcus
He didn't see nothing to laugh at. He
spoke out awful set, kinder gritting his
teeth: i will set on the steps fifty years |
before I'll go into this house if that mans |
settled here
Il couldn't believe he'd really do it. We
were going to be married that spring. an
it did seem as if he might listen to me; but |
he wouldn't. The Sunday Mr.. Morton |
begun to preach, he begun to set ON them
steps, an he's set there ever since, in all |
kinds of weather. It's a wonder it amt |
killed him; but guess it's made him |
tough"
Why, didn't he feel bad when you
wouldn't marry him.
Feel bad. OF course he did. He took |
on terribly. But it didn't make any differ |
ence; he wouldn't give in a hair'S-breadth. |
declare it did seem as if | should die. His |
mother felt awfully, tOo-She'S a real good |
woman. don't know what Marcus would |
have done without her. He wants a sight |
of tending and waiting on: he's dreadful |
babyish in some ways, though you wouldn't |
- l.