Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1891-10-17
HOW | POPPED TO SALLY.
BY BACKWOODS MILLER.

The year the cruel war begun,
that | found myself in the backwoods of
Illinois, a stalwart son of the Forest not
quite old enough to vote, but old enough
to be in love-yes, desperately in love.
no longer cared for the chase nor other
rural sports. There seemed to be an
aching void beneath the folds of my
striped linsey vest which neither dog nor
gun, nor my big white alley could fill.
| wandered about as one in a dream,
and began to look very pale and haggard ;
could neither eat, drink, nor be merry.
My old aunt thought l was coming down
with the measles, and insisted upon
drenching me with herb teas but knew
1t was something more dreadful than
measles, and that the remedy lay in an.
other direction.
The object of my infatuation was Sally
jenkins, a neighbor girl, who lived near
by, and likelier lass you could not find
In days ride. Sally and l had been
playmates from childhood up. We had
roamed the woods together, had climbed
the hills on our stick horses, and made
playhouses in the valley. We made mud
pies and played "old man and old
woman, and now l wanted to play old
man and old woman in earnest.
That great mass of yellow, golden hair
that was flying loose at the sports of the
wind, and those large blue eyes seemed
to haunt me by day, and We're in my
dreams by night.
The question which was so sorely
worrying me was. whether Sally enter
tanned similar feeling for me- or did
s}" regard me as a mere plaything.
Then ! reasoned with myself that she
certainly did care little bit for me. for
didn't she always wear that great spot
ted yellow dress, when called, because
had said it was pretty and didn't she
wear that speckled bonnet because | ad-
mired it and wouldn't she always wear
a hollyhock blossom in her bosom because
1t was my favorite flower? and didn't
she eat great chunks of moasses candy,
and say it was sweeter because | gave it
to her? Taking it altogether, l felt that
! had some grounds for hope, and so !
resolved to investigate the matter.
"A lovely morning in leafy June,
When birds and bees were all in tune"
found me dressed in my best suit of
homespun clothes, with large holly
hook blossom in the buttonhole of my
striped vest. With a peculiar sensation
moving my every nerve, was threading
my may along the winding paths through
the greenwood to the habitation of the
girl loved.
Yes, had resolved to see Sally, pop
that dreadful question, and have the
suspense over with. If she said yes--it
would be love in a cottage;" if she said
no, would go to the war and be killed,
OF get in the guardhouse, didn't care
which. The possibility of her saying no
was too dreadful to thiuk Of The very
idea of such catastrophe seemed to cast
a shadow of gloom over this beautiful
June morning.
The big brass buttons on my new claw
hammer coat would shine and glisten
like a new tin pan on kitchen wall.
The bees were humming among the
flowers, and the early bird was out after
the worm. The worm and l seemed to
be about the only things that did not en-
Joy being out. The shorter the distance
grew between me and Sally's house the
fainter grew my heart, and the more
dreadful the ordeal before me. Facing
cannon was nothing to facing Sally with
this interrogation point in my eyes. 1t
seemed much easier to walk right up to
cannon and crawl in than to look
down into those blue eyes and ask Sally
to be my wife. I imagined she would
laugh right in my face at the absurdity
of the thing, or, what seemed ten
thousand times worse, look serious and
say she would be "my sister"
While walking along in this frame of
mind, and wondering how it was all
going to turn out, the red brick chimney
of Sally's house suddenly loomed up over
the hill. My heart gave a terrible
flounce, and began humping and pound
ing against my linsey jacket, as if it
knew what was up and had determined
to burst out and go back home Great
drops of cold sweat rolled off my fore
head, and | felt my courage oozing out
at my fingers ends. Cold despair had
seized upon me, and down sat on hol-
low log by the roadside. l was not ex-
actly tired, but | wanted to reflect mo-
ment and try to pull myself together be-
fore venturing any farther.
While thus engaged, a song burst forth
from shady bower on the hillside Just
beyond 1t was the voice of Sally, and
to my ear it was far sweeter than any
song the birds had been singing over
head. In an instant my whole being was
changed from cold despair to self reliant,
exultant, confident love. Hope rode a
high horse, as l rose up and glided with
catlike tread toward the little nook
from whence the song proceeded. I
parted the grapevine and peered through;
and there sat Sally on mossy hilock
beneath hawthorn bush, weaving a
wreath of roses, her long yellow hair
fa ling in golden ringlets about her shoul-
ders, and covered with the white bios
SONS that We're softly cropping from the
tree above, and like flakes of snow were
dotting the folds of that yellow spotted
dress. Her face was wreathed in smiles,
and joy danced in her eyes, as she sang: