The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1893-03-03
A YANKEE COURTING.

If any one was better known than an
other for miles around the village of
Conway, it was Deacon Harding, the pill
lar of the Methodist church and the
strictest selectman the New Hampshire
village had ever known. He had never
married, and some folks said he was too
mean, and that all he thought about was
putting up goodly share of this worlds
goods to his credit in order that he might
make better provision for the commodi-
ties of the next. But then people will
talk.
1t was therefore matter of consid-
cradle speculation among his neighbors
when the deacon was seen to stop occa-
sionally at the Widow Martins cottage,
and many and varied were the copjec-
lures about the outcome. The widow
was plump, rosy checked and good ma
tured, and her dear departed having left
her more than two years before she was,
rs she believed herself, fully qualified to
be considered among the cligibles of the
little world i'll which she lived. She had
heard (what woman does not0 of her
neighbors' talk about her, but being Of
that happy disposition which does not
heed the stories Dame Rumor OCCASION
ally circulatcs she kept on her way re-
CARELESS of all the gossips said.
The widows cottage was an inviting
spot when the snow lay piled up in great
masses III the roadways and on tho noun
tain sides and the mercury was away be-
low zero. A bright light always shown
from tho windows while the hickory logs
crackled and sputtered in the wide, omen
fireplace. Everything about the place
was so neat. clean and wholesome look
ing that one felt at home the moment lie
crossed the threshold. AT least that is
what Deacon Hardin thought as he came
i'll sight of the cozy home of tho widow
while on his way to Il meeting of the town
board.
The deacon was feeling cold and out
of sorts generally, and somehow hi,
ideas had been travelling for weeks past
i'll II direction decidedly singular for such
confirmed bachelor as he. All ap-
pcared to lead mp to one object, and that
was the Widow Martin. The deacon
was getting on dangerous ground, but
he didn't seem to know it, He had al
ways said there wasn't woman who
could catch him. He had lived so long
without one that he was not going to be
taken in by any of them at his time OF
life. Not he, and lie grew several inches
higher every time he Rugged this conso-
lation to his breast.
But this particular evening he was
unaccountably lonely and disspiritcd.
Everybody who was anybody in Con
way was full of rest and cheer and lust
brimful of happiness. Tho spirit of tho
holidays was everywhere, but the deacon
was alone. There was no one to welcome
him, no ono to greet him at his home,
except, perhaps, his old housekeeper, who
was deaf and ill tempered enough to sour
the biggest cask of cider in his cellar.
1t was no wonder, then, that as he
reached the Widow Martins cottage he
determined TO stop just for chat with
her and TO warm himself before going to
tho meeting. That was ALL Ii he had
been told there was anything else on his
mind, he would have thought the sugges.
ton ridiculous. The widow heard the
Gcacon's blackboard stop-in fact, She
had seen him coming up the road-and
there had been hasty glance over the
room, and just peep in the looking
glass OH the mantel TO see if everything
was i'll order, long before the deacons
voice was heard ON the frosty air and
tho wheels had ceased to revolve in front
of the cottage. BY the time he had
blanlleted and covered his horse and led
him to the shed out of the cold blasts
that swept down the hillsides and across
the valley the widow had the door open
and was waiting for her visitor.
Il just thought I'd stop minute, Mrs.
Martin, to warm up, for it's powerful
cold out this afternoon" said the deacon,
stampinghis feet to shake the snow from
his boots before entering.
I'm real glad to see you, deacon.
Come right in and sit down by the fire."
In few moments Deacon Harding
had removed his heavy coat and thick
gloves and was comfortably seated OIL
one side of the broad fireplace, while the
widow was rocking herself gently to and
fro at the other.
AS his good temper increased the dea.
con kept looking over at the widow.
What nice, pleasant little woman she
was, to be sure, and she was pretty, tou
there was no mistake about that. H5
sat there enjoying his novel sensations
without speaking for long time. Surely
there was something the matter with
him this winters eve. He was usu.
ally able to talk about something wher.
ever he was, but now he couldn't say 2
word if his life depended on it, thougl,
he tried desperately several times to start
conversation. And the widow sat
there apparently entirely unconscious.
with her mind seemingly fixed upon
some trifle she was sewing.