Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1890-01-16

scanty gray locks ingeniOusly plastere
over the top of his head so as to cove
t as much of the bald surface as possible
g There was long pause.
q Anything going on, deacon?" aske,
+ Miss keziah, resuming her knitting
She was greatly puzzled to account fo
those sunday clothes.
S "Nothin' within the range of my OBJ
v servation. There won't be much agoin
v on now till lection time; things II b'
pretty lively them
"Want to buy any hay this year?'
chirped Miss Keziah. "Mine is extra
good this season; my hired man says it:
the best harvest yield in town"
81 rather guess III hev enough to car
~ me through the winter. If | don't
shall know where to come for hay as is
hay. l declare your farm does beat all
feel kind O. rugged like when | think
the best farm in town is managed by a
woman"
Miss Keziah smiled graciously and
the deacon drew his chair little nearer
his hostess. 1T must be a great load
for We to carry alone. Such large farm
is tremendous responsibility for lone
woman"
"Oh, 1 don't mind it; it keeps me
proper busy"
The deacon hitched his chair along a
few inches farther. "Ye'd Oughter hev
a brother or cousin, or some relative
like to share the burden with ye."
"My shoulders are plenty strong" re-
turned Miss KeZiah, good naturedly.-
I'm glad to show folks that there are
women who are good for somthing be-
sides giddy- -gaddying and tattling."
"Yes," answered the deacon, 1--WE can all
testify to your valley and worth. You're
a real honor to your sex. You're-yOu're
bright and shinin' beacon light to the
triflin' and vain minded women of the
world;" and the speaker waved his hand
at the conclusion of this little oratOrical
| flourish.
Then hitch, hitch, hitch went the chair
Miss Keziah-ward "DOn't you feel sort
o lonely at spells?" he asked insinuat-
ingiy.
Miss Keziah' glanced suspiciously at the
rapidly advancing chair She dropped
her knitting and went to the fire and
piled up the blazing sticks of wood
Then she came back to the table and set
her chair on the farther side of it, thus
putting barrier between her and her
visitor. "I'm never lonely, deacon; plen-
ty to do is the best medicine for lOneli-
ness.
"But woman's tender, dependent
creatur'. Woman's a vine," here the
deacon took up his weekly prayer meet
ing drawl, ''an' needs suthin' to cling to
when the troublous, desolatin' waves
and winds O. afflictiOn and sorrow roll
over her."
"Stuff and nonsenser' exclaimed Miss
Keziah, with contemptuous sniff. II
shouldn't have expected that man of
your sense, deacon, would repeat such
silly trash. have no patience with the
people who are always talking as if
women couldn't stand alone and needed
propping up like rag doll that hadn't
any backbone. I'm no vine or such |
creeping thing, can tell you. l can
Lord so wills it, although l admit, dea-
con, that it's pleasanter to have some
one to keep you company"
"That's jest it; ye hev hit the nail
squar' on the head! It's pleasanter to
hev company in our sOjourn in this
mortal yearth."
The deacon seized his chair with both
hands, and by circuitous line of hitch
ing placed it within three feet of Miss
Keziah's table. YOU'RE fore-handed
woman, Miss Keziah; I'm a man of
1na IN ha |
munity; it seems to me that it would be
a good thing if we could walk hand-in-
hand through this vale of tears. Prov
idence seems to pint its finger that
way" The deacon was thinking at that
very moment of the money he would
save by thrifty manager like Miss Ke-
ziah in the place of his inefficient, waste
full hired woman.
Miss Keziah was dumbfounded. She
dropped her knitting, and the ball of yarn
rolled across the floor. "Mercy!" she fl
nally gasped.
"Pll make ye a first-class husband,
and yell make me good wife. We've
been members of the same church for
for thirty years or more, and we've been
members of the same spirivool family,
We'll now be members of the same hu-
man family"
Miss Keziah Strengthened herself up
in her high-backed chair, and drew in
her chin, while her voice rang out
shril and chear: 81 rather guess it'll
take two to make that bargain"
A second look at the aged admirer,
who was edging up to her with sheep
ish simper, exasperated Miss Keziah be-
yOnd control.
THAT old foolr' she said wrathfully.
The color came into the deacon's thin
cheeks, and he started to his feet, look !
ing anxiously toward the door, as med
itating hasty retreat. But the yarn
was wound around his bots and he was
forced to remain.
Miss Keziah likewise rose, and folding
her hands primly in front of her, re-
marked grimly: "When you first began
your talking hadn't the least idea what I
you were driving at. l thought you
we're limiting about Betsy Hill, and {
wanted to take me into your confidence. l
[ never dreamed that you meant me-
Why, suppose that every one in town
knew that wouldn't give up my free l
iom for the best man living. Betsy
Hill is a pious, likely woman, she'll a
make good home for you and she c
needs home herself" b
The deacon was completely withered, |
md Miss Keziah continued: "If you 4
Itep around little livelier, deacon, /
md pick up the stones on your lots, I
md put them into good fences, and NOW !
lown those pesky weeds, there is no
,arthly reason why your farm shouldn't
ook as well as mine. If I've said any
hing to hurt your feelings, deacon, L
lope you will overlook it. Why, you W
ire all tangled up in the yarn; I'll 81
it." q
The delay of unwinding the yarn from ?
he dtacon's feet gave Miss Keziah s.
hance for further remark: "One word Il
more, deacon; have you heard about the A
Western lands?" a
The deacon wished he was anywhere h