Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1892-05-06

}({{}1?2}N@ Where her pretty
daughter was iron
ing.
There was 4 moments silence.
"What We want?" was finally the petu-
liant reply.
'EAin't that Joe Myers comm long
by old man Wingate's! Looks like i'm ,
don't it?'
Foolish, foolish Mrs. Farman. Why
could she not have guessed that Rachel's
longing gaze had been fastened, from her
window, on that tell tale white horse
and load Of grain ever since they turned
the corner by the mill; that Rachel's
heart was beating thump! thump! thump!
against her side while she answered care
lessly:
"Mebbc It's. Seems some like his
rig" Then, after a bit of silence.
''What ye want t. know for, MAJ" as if
this innocent sEeech could not stand by
itself.
go, nothing" feebly. ''Ain't ye 60
in t. pick the peas Ter dinner?"
The girl set down her iron with an I'M
patient thud that brought dull blush
of consciousness to her mothers cheeks.
eye said ye didn't want none," was
the sullen answer.
Mrs. Farman frowned into her dust
pan as she poked the broom under the
squat little stove. Really, Rachel
seemed to have no wit at all. The pea
patch stood at such convenient angle
to the highway.
"Things didn't 60 like that when I
was young" the simple woman unused.
"Folks es' KEEP comp'ny tell they was
t be married an then they was married,
n no trouble'n' quar'lin'. II any rate,
twas so with me an jeremiah"
This was, indeed, the truth. The late
Mr.. Farman had found a most COM
PLEASANT listener to his tale of love.
Meanwhile Rachel went on slamming
her irons in the kitchen. Neither her
angry sweetheart, driving in unhappy
heaviness along the dusty road, nor her
distracted mother, listening for some
conciliatory sign, could know that her
eyes were too full of tears to see her
work.
Mrs. Farman started suddenly in des-
peratiOn as the wagon drew near. 81
got to train that rosebush by the gate, {"
she muttered in self excuse, stealing
softly out of the door; 81 been goin' to
do it all summer. 1t looks dretful. {"
Still she reached the fence without her
shears
Joe had determined not to turn his
head toward the house; but, you see, he
had not counted upon the eager figure in
+h0
across the palings and peered up into his
face. 1t had long been a favorite joke
at the corner grocery, Mrs. Farmans
pursuit of this eligible young man, and
he was possessed Of no special fondness
for so apparently willing a mother-in-
law; yet it would be outrageous rude
ness to drive past when any one stood
waiting with speech for him on her lips,
If it was Rachel's mother, and IN front
of RacheIs home. He must see what
she wanted, and he must stop old Jim to
listen.
"W'y, how dye do, Mr., Myers?" was
the first remark, with a clumsy attempt
at surprise; II amt seen ye this long
time. How's your ma2"
"She's toIable," Mr.. Myers answered
colaly, by no means appeased at this
polite address. He was not in the hu-
NOR for a go-bctveen. "You pretty
well, Mrs. Farman?"
She chose to consider this inquiry in
its broadcast sense.
"W'y, Pm enjoyim' good health, " the
honest soul rejoined, '''n TIL boys is
real rugged. But Rachael she seems sort
O peaked this summer. Don't eat
nothin' n don't git 'er nat'rai sleep.
I'm worried bout Rachel"
The lines around Joe's mouth seemed
to tighten. ''Boneset teas good" he re-
torted coolly and gave his horse cluck.
Poor little Mrs. Farman made clutch
at the gate railing. "Joe, " she said in
nigh, shrill whisper, swat jest a
minute. want to say somethin'. Be ye
mad at Rachel?"
swell, ye know wy, eff be-" roared