Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1893-04-07
HER BACKWOODS BEAU.
His Intentions Were Excellent, but
Language Failed Him.

His Intentions Were Excellent, but
Language Failed Him.
"When / was young woman"
said the wife of well known New
York lawyer to reporter of the New
York Sun, al lived in a country
town in Pennsylvania. Like that of
many other country girls, the height
OF my ambition was to teach district
school. l passed my examination be-
fore the rural school board, and was
assigned to backwoods district,
where had to follow the time
honored custom of boarding round
| was rather a sentimental girl, /
think, and after l had been teaching a
few weeks in the district 1 was by no
means displeased to discover that one
of the well-to-do rustic swains of that
neighborhood, good looking, whole
some young fellow, was inclinded to
pay attention to me. He was looked
upon by all the red-cheeked, back
woods girls as great catch, and my
natural feminine vanity was in no
manner made less by the knowledge
that all the girls were jealous of me,
although the young man had as yet
given no positive indication of his
preference for me. One evening he
called at the farm house where / was
then quartered, and it was not until
the family had one by one retired,
leaving me alone with him in the big
fireplace lighted sitting room that it
broke upon me that l was actually
keeping company with beau. / can
feel now the blush that rushed to my
face when I realized the situation,
which, l must admit, was a pleasing
one. But how embarrassing it was !!
And the embarrassment was made all
the more painful when l discovered
that my company was most annoy
ingly bashful. He sat on one side of
the fireplace, l on the other. His
eyes were fixed on the hearthstone,
and he kept them there, while he
fidgeted on his chair and twirled his
thumbs nervously. l was naturally a
self-possessed girl and lively talker,
but as 1 sat there opposite that BASH
full youth was unable to find word
to say, and sat as awkwardly silent
and nervous as he was himself. The
old clock licked loudly, and, thought,
impatiently, in the corner, and its
hands went around the dial for one
long hour without another sound
breaking the awful silence of that
room. The suspense was simply
frightful.
"'OhP kept thinking to myself,
why doesn't he say something or 60
homep"
But still he sat there in the flick
ering light, tidgetty and nervous, his
eyes never moving from that one spot
on the hearth. Another half-hour
dragged its way around the clock.
Then suddenly the bashful swain
raised his eyes and looked at me.
There was an animated but illustrated
look on his face.
Thank heayen' thought. He's
going to say something at lastP
He looked at. me a moment, still
twirling his thumbs, and then stam-
mered out:
"'Miss Palay, did you-ever-see-
owlr
This was an unexpected and sur
prising query, and, although it almost
destroyed what little composure I had
left, it was relief. WELCOMED it as a
probable breaker OF the ice.
"Oh, yes, Mr.. Cranep I replied,
enthusiastically. Many and many q
time
"My rustic beau grinned in salts
fled way for a moment and I was
hopeful, but suddenly the solemn look
came back to his face, and he dropped
his eyes to the hearth again and re-
sumed his inspection of the fascinat.
ing spot on the stone, twirling his
thumbs and figeting as before. Para.
lysis seized my tongue again, too, and,
as the clock licked away minute after
minute, l felt that I must either soon
scream or die. Another hour passed.
l was on the point of springing from
my chair and rushing from the room,
when the bashful swain showed signs
of another CLEAN on intelligence. He
raised his eyes and looked at me as if
he had been seized with a brilliant
idea an sputtered out.
"Say! What cussed-big-eyes
thay got-hain't theyT
"Well, that was more than human
nature could stand. l screamed with
laughter at the ludicrous situation,
and think 1 cried to think that 1
had been sitting all that blessed even
ing with such stupid pumpkin. Any
how, when l. recovered somewhat of
my composure my beau was gone, and
l went to bed and cried myself to
sleep. The youth never honored me
with another call, but learned soon
afterward that one of the backwoods
girls was boasting that she had cut
me out and that, in speaking of me,
the rustic gallant had said with much
emphasis:
Why, goshl she don't know naw-
thin'.""
THE State Farmers Alliance ware
house will be located at Tacoma, to
hold 10000 bushels OF sacked grain.
to cost $4,000, one-half the stock 20
be taken in Tacoma. A local COM
pany has been formed to arrange the
details OF the enterprise and secure
subscriptions!