The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1894-11-15

When Peter Perriman's eyes beheld
Miss Browns Offering, when he tested
its undeniable excellence, dispatched
generous wedge of it and yearncd
for more, sentiment of gratitude to
the donor sprang up in his breast. The
trite old saying that the way to mans
heart is through his stomach proved
true in Peters case at least, and in the
ardor of his feelings he offered to ac-
company his sister and niece for an
evening call on Miss Barbara, and even
plucked up the courage to carry her
another donation of the choicest ap-
| Piles his two-acre orchard produced
Miss Barbara, attired in neat lilac
satteen gown, and a large white apron
with red bow on the pocket, received
her visitors with smiling cordiality, ac-
cepted the proffered fruit with blush
of delight, and served to her guests,
later on, a platter of plump, brown
crullers, crisp and sugary, together
with some tiny seed cookies, dainty
enough for a bird. Mr.. Perriman's
greatest weakness in the pastry line,
next to pie, was for crullers, and Miss
Barbara was certainly an adept in the
art of making them.
"Tip-top-est crulls ever | eat" med
itated the bachelor. Barbara Brown
is good cook. III bet nickel she
can cook meat an vegetables as good
as she can pie an crulls. N then she's
sensible" continued Peter. 81 hear
her a-tellin' Tidy she'd ruther hev
meal O plain roast meat an potaters,
with good pie of some kind, or bat
ter pudding, with dip sauce, than all
the rag-goos an Frenchified messes
that ever was put together. She's
good tempered, too. A body can see
that with half an eye, an not bad
lookin', particlkler about the mouth
and eyes. Some way like these
blue-eyed, yaller-haired wimmin.
| There's some vim about 'er. Seems
to me she'd make a stavin' nice wife
fur some Teller that amt too young
| me, fur instance. l never thought
much about it before, but seems like
man hadn't ought to be mizzable old
bachelder all his days, particular when
there's nice single lady handy that's
sensible an knows how to cook. Not
as I want to marry woman jest
cause she can cook, but good meal O.
vittles goes long way towards keep
In man contented an cheerful.
IF she'll hev me-though like
enough she won't-I've notion to
resls it. That last batch of griddle
cakes of Tilda's lays heavy on my stom-
ach yet. Another dose Of EMIL give
me the dyspepsy, sure as shooting.
The only way out of it is fur me to
marry, SO there amt no use in shilly-
shallying Might as well pitch right
in, first as last, so here goes!"
With an air of determinatio Mr.
Perriman deposited his hoe by the side
of the fence, mopped his brow, and
started toward Miss Browns white
painted cottage with resolute strides.
The door stood wide open, and through
the screen Mr.. Perriman could see
Miss Barbara litting briskly about in
her tiny kitchen, and hear her singing,
| in clear voice, the old-t;me melody:
when shall hear the bees a-hummIn'
All round the comb?
When shall hear the banjo tummin'
Down in my good ole homer
She broke off suddenly at the sound
OF rap on the door, and came forward
with pleased smile on her lip and in
her eyes.
20, Mr.. Perriman, I'll have to ask you
in here, or my shorscake will burn,"
she apologized, hastily, bringing forth
splint-bottomed chair, and placing it
near the window, which was hung
with morning glory vines, their purple
cups still showing amcng the thick,
green leaves. I'm doing my Saturday
N III, 1-s
Brown.
But she got no further. Mr. Peril
man had his mind made up and had no
notion of dallyipg with his fate. Pop
ping the qustion did not seem SO easy
matter as it had short time before,
but it must be done, he felt, and the
sooner it was over the better.
miss Barbara" he blurted out,
looking her straight in the face, II
think you are very selfish woman"
Miss Barbara blushed furiously.
~ seltish?" she cried, aghast.
''To be sure" nodded Peter, grow
ing more composed ut her evident agi-
tation. Don't You call it selfish to
be baking shortcake and boiling ham
(it smells mighty good) for your Sun
day dinner, when your next-door neigh
Dor is poor old bachelder. who never
has anything good Sundays-or any
other day, for that matter?"
He paused and looked at her pathet-
ically
Miss barbara had never had pro-
posal before, but with woman's un-
crring instinct she knew what was
coming.
WHO is to blame because you are
bachelor?" she asked with tremulous
smile
you are" declared Peter, boldly.
cat least you will be il you don't
promise to marry me-" He held both
her hands by this time in firm clasp.
my shortcake is burning! Do let me
CO." begged Barbara
mot until you answer me, IL It
burns to crisp" declared Mr.. Peril
man, ruthlessly. "Wili you be my
wife, barbara? Yes or rn6s'