The Madison daily leader. [volume] (Madison, S.D.) 1890-current, 1893-04-08
A YANKEE COURTING.

A YANKEE COURTING.
III 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. BE had never
married, and some folks said he was too
mean, and that all he thought about was
putting up q goodly share of this worlds
goods to his credit in order that he might
make better provision for the cornmodi-
ties of the next. But then people win
talk.
It was therefore a 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 eonjec-
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,
as she believed herself, fully qualified to
be considered among the eligibles of the
little world in which she lived. She had
heard (what woman does not?) of her
neighbors' talk about her, but being of
that happy disposition which does not
heed the stories Dame Rumor occasion
ally circulates she kept OF her way re-
gardless of all the gossips said.
The widows cottage was an inviting
spot when the snow lay piled up in great
masses in the roadways and on the noun
tain sides and the mercury was away be-
low zero. A bright light always shown
from the windows while the hickory logs
cracked and sputtered in the wide, open
fireplace. Everything about the place
was 10 neat, clean and wholesome look
ing that one felt at home the moment he
crossed the threshold. AT least that is
what Deacon Hardin thought as he came
in sight of the coy home Of the widow
while on his way to a meeting Of the town
board.
The deacon was feeling cold and out
of sorts generally, and somehow his
ideas had been travelling for weeks past
in a direction decidedly singular for such
y confirmed bachelor as he. All ap
peared to lead up to n 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 q woman who
could catch him. He had lived so long
without n that he was not going to be
taken In by any of them at his time OF
life. Not he, and he grew several inches
higher every time he Rugged this conso-
lation to his breast.
But this particular evening he was
unaccountably lonely and disspirited.
Everybody who was anybody in Con-
way was full of rest and cheer and Just
brimful of happiness. The spirit of the
holidays was everywhere, but the deacon
was alone. There was no one to welcome
him, no one to greet him at his home,
except, perhaps. his old housekeeper, who
was deaf ard i'll tempered enough to sour
the biggest cask Of cider in his cellar.
It was no wonder, then, that as he
reached the Widow Martins cottage he
determined to stop just for a chat with
her and to warm himself before going to
the 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
deacon's blackboard stop-in fact, she
had seen him coming up the road-and
there had been a hasty glance over the
room, and just a peep in the looking
glass ON the mantel to see If everything
was in order, long before the deacon's
voice was heard on the frosty air and
the wheels had ceased to revolve in front
of the cottage. BY the time he had
blanketed 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 a minute, Mrs.
Martin. to warm up, for it's powerful
cold ont this afternoon, said the deacon,
stamping his 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 a few moments Deacon Harding
had removed his heavy coat and thick
gloves and was comfortably seated OH
n 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 a nice. pleasant little woman sht
was, to be sure, and she was pretty, tot
there was no mistake about that! FL,
sat there enjoying his novel sensation
without speaking for a long time. Surel,
there was something the matter witt
him this winters eve. He was usu
ally able to talk about something wher
ever he was, but now he couldn't say
word IL his life depended ON it, thougl
he tried desperately several times to star
o conversation. And the widow mn
there apparently entirely unconscious
with her mind seemingly fixed npoI
some tride she wal sewing.
Did she have an idea Of what was pass
ing In her visitors mind2 or course not
Women are such dear, innocent cres
lures, especially widows. The deacoi
vraxv ~woc<1oao &c cha .o.p,,%au nraoE 1v,se RI