The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1891-10-21
HIS WOOING.


White COW out Of the clover-1eld!
And, bless me, there are all the tur-
key chicks out dragging themselves
in the dew, and the pony has broken
his halter, and is kicking up his heels
in the middle Of the panSy bed"
Kitty Kipson ran, first this way
and then that, now scolding and how
laughing in the extremity Of her be-
wilderment, until the COW was safe
in her paddock once more, the pony
tethered in his stall, and the turkey
brood restored to the sunny quiet Of
the farm-yard. And then she came
in, flushed and rosy, and resumed the
beating of eggs and sugar for Il cake.
Mrs. Kipson sighed. She was rather
a plaintive little woman, with Il fresh
complexion like girls, blue eyes,
and trim figure, which still re-
tanned its youthful curves.
ut seems as if everything went
wrong this morning." she murmured.
And it's all Mr.. Ross fault"
ooh, mOther!"
"Ycs, it is" persisted Mrs. Kipson.
"He left the garden gate open when
he went out this morning. l declare
/ don't see what brings him here so
much"
"Neighborly Kindness, perhaps"
said Kitty, demurely, beating away
at the creamy mass that surged TO
and fro beneath her wooden spoon.
"NeighbOrly nonsensej" retorted
her mother. Il do hope, Kitty, that
you're not seriously encouraging that
MANI"
"Why shouldn't / seriously encour-
age that man, mother"
He's twice as old as you are" said
Mrs. Kipson, pausing in the act Of
buttering the pans, and wistfully gaZ-
ing at Kitty's round, rose-like face.
We'll, he might be that, mother,
without being so very old, mightnt
he?"
Hes a widowcr," resumed Mrs.
Kipson. And widowers have no
business to marry again"
Nor widows neither, mother?"
archly.
NO" snapped Mrs. Kipson, nor
widows neither Now, if you are
through with the cake, Kitty, the
oven is ready"
Kitty went singing about her bak-
ing that morning-and as she sung
she cast glance ever and anon at
the weary-looking little woman who
was mending the torn spots in the
parlor curtains.
81 won't get married, if / have to
leave mother here all alone" she
thought. Mothers life is hard
enough without being deserted by her
only child. If she only would like
Mr.. Ross little.
Presently old Deacon Jackman
came along from his daily jaunt TO
the postoflice.
Here's letter for you, Sister Kip
son., said he, with the York post
mark on it,"
Mrs. Kipson took the letter and
held it in her hand, while she and the
deacon discussed the chances OF a
plentiful peach crop, and sighed over
an epidemic which had lately broken
out in the poultry-yards of the neigh
borhood. And when the old man had
trudged slowly away, she broke open
the buff-colored missive.
ats from Della Jane, she thought,
"to let me know how she gets along
In the dyeing and securing business.
But it was not from "Delia Jane. "
1t was short and curt, in n lawyers
hand, notifying her that the old Kip
son Farm would be sold at auction on
the following Tuesday, at the Mer-
chants Exchange In New York City,
on behalf of the holder Of foreclosed
mortgage.
"Foreclosed!" gasped Mrs. Kipsop.
"Why, it was only "a fow months age
that they wrote us to know what we
intended TO do about it,"
And we did--nothing, said Kitty,
who, over her mothers shoulder, had
read the letter with sorrowful,
startled eyes.
"What could we do? / meant to ask
Deacon Jackson's advice" said Mrs.
Kipson, cor TO borrow money from
Cousin Hunt Halliday out in Jersey.
But somehow there never seemed tc
be good chance. don't see why ON
earth these people should be i'm such
hurry"
And she began to cry in weak,