Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1894-02-10

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sidering 4. anything but a joke, and
thst was what caused all the flutter.
Now Ruth couldn't make biscuits, and
she had always thought Jo just a
little better than ordinary mortals,
and to have him come down to biscuits,
and then TO throw out such a remark
as THAT to her brotherl He probably
meant to have Jimmie tell her.
Ruth told the girls at the next social,
and, with her eyes flashing, declared
she wished she could bake, but she
couldn't, and she hated dough; but il
she could make biscuits she'd make a
bushel and smother him. So now! She
cried at home, and thought it very
unkind of 10, and declared she
wouldn't send another valentine as
long as she lived. But when the sum-
mer came and the girls, not forgetting
the fling at their lack of ability, took
to refusing him when invited to picnics
or other places of amusements, Ruth
was sorry; and yet , glad, for she
couldn't stop liking him all at once,
ever if she tried her best. So when
the anniversary came again she decided
she would just send a always and not
mind what had probably thoughtlessly
been said.
No one knew why the daughters Of
the several households were so anxious
to learn to make bread, but it was a
fact that every girl in town suddenly
developed IA desire to relieve her mother
Of the biscuit making. And yet, not
every one; for little Ruth Hazen de,
clared she couldn't and wouldn't, and
stuck to the china painting which she
sent regularly to Rockland, and which
brought her more money than carloads
of biscuits would have done.
Valentines day brought only one
valentine for Jo, and he opened it
wondering If his friends had forgotten
that it was his birthday, or whether
they thoagAt it time to drop the old
cnst9p. H4 wondered who had re-
mem6ered him. The roses looked like
some he had every year, half blown
and always pink. Ruth Hazen always
,swantedsas busrh of the blush roses by
the door, and he remembered SO we'll
how she buried heT face in the last
ones he had 'carried to herAyes, it must
have been Ruth. Puzzled and a little
troubled at, the dearth of valentines, he
knew not what TO make Of it, Then
Grace Eames had refused to ride with
him last summer, giving a good reason,
of course, but one that he knew could
have been laid aside.
. After supper a rafting wagon drove
to the door, and its driver, after
knocking, left on the step a bundle
directed to -. J. Jennings"
There. that's the Conaut's wagon, l
know; and this is Jennie's valentine.
The bundle contained a dozen of the
lightest biscuit ever seen, and this
rhyme:
valentine | dared not make,
But biscuits by the dozen bake.
Another knock, and another parcel was
deposited; another dozen biscuits SO
like the first that they might have been
made by the same hands, and this
rhyme:
You told the saint
didn't know how
To make a good biscuit;
just look az this, now.
Sixteen dozen biscuits in sixteen differ
ent bundles were. spread on the table
before nine o'clock, each bundle con
tanning a scrap appropriate to the day
and the unusual gift.
10 lay awake nearly all night trying
to think what could have brought this
avalanche Of bread upon him, and
finally concluded it must have been
that little speech of his about the girls
not knowing how to make biscuits.
But his mind kept returning to Ruth's
valentine, and by and by he decided
that a man didn't need but one valen-
tine, especially if he had plenty of
bread. So, toward morning, he dropped
asleep to dream of being shut up in a
tower and not allowed anything but
biscuits to eat or sleep on, and the only
thing, he could see for miles were fields
OF biscuits. in all shades of brown,
which he was told he must eat as fast
they ripened. Then he saw Ruth,
with her hair flying wildly about her
face, and, when he looked closely, he
a.. .s 80 Z.