Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1892-05-12
IN LOVE AND WAR.

The story of a country village is the
story of its store
That wonderful place where the mail
and the molasses flow from a common
source, so to speak-where your inner
and outer man, your mental and phys
ical self, must get all their stimulus-is
the epitome of all the diffusely written
history of the lives that cluster around It,
What the store man cannot tell you of
every passer by and every customer you
are not likely to learn yourself, except
by unusual fortune; and all he does tell
you has the delightful piquancy of hav-
ing passed through the medium of a
rarely shrewd mind, gaining more than
one beauty spot in the transit.
That was what was thinking as sat
in 'Bijah's store, with the mingled odors
Of calico print and dried apples, coffee
and the straw that crockery is packed in
fighting for supremacy in my notice.
'Bijah's broad back was turned to me
and he was sorting the days mail with
comments that made me as wise as him
self regarding its contents.
"Mis' Mi-randy Beal," said 'Biiah;
"that'H be abaout her pension, guess.
Ruther efficial lookin, thet is. Mr.. Asy
Fowler; his son John-gone down to
Pochemouth-he writes ter him nigh
onter every week-en nice, clean hand
he writes, does John. Here's a letter
fer the schulema' am. Now thar's
han'writtin fer vel Putty ez she is, an
jest as simple like"
The latch clicked and the door opened.
'Bijah looked over his shoulder and
grinned. was shut out from sight of
more than the visitors legs by slack
line of dangling towels, aprons and
socks; but they were steady, reliable
looking legs, straight and strong, clothed
in heavy boots and blue overalls.
'Bijah neither turned nor laid down
his letters. He stood there grinning,
and whether the person in the doorway
was grinning also, or plotting my assas-
sination in pantomime, was none the
wiser.
The heavy boots shuffied and turned
about, stepped outside and the door
shut. 'Bijah chuckled to himself and
looked back to his letters again.
'"Them papers is for young Thomp-
son. He's tn editor of our paper. He's
alive-alive an kickin. He's been out
west fur spell, an he thinks we're all
dead an buried. An he has made a
great change in The Bugler, tell you.
Folks say he'll be made ter smart fur
the way he muses. raound inter peoples
affairs; but it's lively, it's lively"
The papers went into separate box,
and 'Bijah resumed the letters.
"Mehaly Hopkins; she's got heap of
money. 'Mazin haow fond yer folks is
of ye when yer got pile and amt no
heirs of yer buddy. She's good fer EN-
though; she's cute 'un.s
81 suppose it is unusual for any one to
make much more than their living away
up here, isn't it, 'BijahY'
"Humph! yes, fer any one. Not fer
some on 'em though. Some ON 'em is
smarter n creased lightnin."
He put his head on one side and
squinted at the letter he was holding.
"Him, now, Jeremiah Wilson, he's a
keen un. Nobody ever got the best O
tn ole man but Jim. You saw Jim
came in here jest naow; amt no 'tater
bugs on Jim; when he gifts up he's up
fer all day"
'Bijah grinned and wagged his head
re-miah-Wil-sonr' he remarked,
and slapped the letter into its pigeon
hole.
The latch clicked again, the door
opened and the same pair of legs ap-
peared in the very same spot where had
seen them before.
'Bijah grinned.
Presumably the unseen grinned also,
for there was too much of 'Bijahs grin
not to be offensive, if it were otherwise.
"Whut chu wantT'
"Nothin."
1--WE don't keep that; or, if we do,
were jest aout of it,"
The big boots turned about slowly.
''Sure ye do want no lamps, are YEP
Seals go with emp
'Not in this shop"
''Thet settles it, as fur as I'm con-
cerned," and he went away and closed
the door again.
'Bijah looked after him and chuckled.
Whats the joke, 'Bijah?'
''Dono' ez I'd orter say an'thin, aout-
6ioC, Oat w hhOW uOW ~ ib, MI. SdIbOu,
you never seem no stranger"
Hand over your story, you old gos-
sip," answered. "Why, it would burn
your tongue off if you tried to keep it
in."
'Bijah laughed heartily at this polite
sally.
"Well, take fer my tex, as Elder
Slocum says, that beautiful axum, 'All ia
fair in love an war;"
He came around the end of the counter
and sat on an unopened sugar barrel,
with his legs crossed and his rough
hands clasped around his knee.
9TH ole man, Jeremiah Wilson, that
mentioned back q spell. he's Tartar.
He do know nothin but his own way; an
Mis- Wilson, she never know'd nothin
but ter gin it to him. He's got trick
er turnin redfaced an lookin like he was
agoin ter bust, an Mis- Wilson, she wuz
so neat, she couldn't bear ter hev her