Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1895-01-17

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head and go to work. reckon I've
gone to school as much as you have,and
never have thought about being a
poet
Maybe it is because you never have
been In loye.' he replied half pitifully.
Maybe so,' she rejoined, and then in
excitement cried: Look there the
bass has caught the perchv And she
had not more than said this when he
seized her in his arms and passionate)y,
violently kissed her.
'Oh, quitr she cried. >Don't1 tell
you Mother is in the door and will see
you. Go away you-you fool!
He released her and stood gazing at
her. u despise you,' she said.
>Ab, I have squeezed the truth out
of you, have ~
If you haye you put yourself to un-
necessary trouble-you might have
known it BEFORE
Yves. might. for the poet always has
been despised.'
,Oh, has he? But if that's the case
yot ought to be loved
Nell, you'll force me to hate you
Il will? But why should you want
to make me SO happyT She took up
her sunbonnet, which had fallen to the
ground, and, holding it by the strings,
stood swinging it like pendulum.
DO you mean thatT he asked.
>Of course. Why shouldn't l, Sam
you have made me miserable all my lite.
Yes, you have, now. All the time at
school, whenever nobody was lookin'
you'd all the time try to kiss me, and
I hate to be kissed all the time. Why
you don't know how tiresome it is.
There, mothers callin' me, and I
just know she's goin to give me an aw'
full goln' over for standin' round here
foolln' with yom. Good, BY, and hope
I'll never see you again-all the time
irwin to kiss me. Yes umv she cried,
m COMM
She ran up the hill, striking at the
trees with her bonnet. A woman flush
ed and angry. looking. met her near the
door, and poining to churn standing
in the shade near the corner of the
house. said:
'Thar's that thing standin' thar all
the mornin' and you foolin' round
down thar on the branch. You air gest
gittin so yo' amt no manner account
On the face of the earth. Who was
that down thar scrappin' with you2
But you neenter tell mel know. 1t
was that good.for- nothin' Sam Foster.
A trihin 'er wretch never lived on the
face ot the earth
He's goiu to be a poet the girl re
piled, taking an apron off a little bush
and tying the strings about her waist.
And what's that. for goodness sake:
the woman exclaimed. He'd better bs
thinkin' about cuttln' them spruts outen
that poor old hillside field that he's
afflicted with. Conscience alive, l pity
the woman he marries.'
u don't reckon he's old enough yet
to think about marryin' anybody the
girl replied. Having tucked up her
skirts she had begun to ply the churn
dasher.
Not old enough the woman snapp-
ed. MY sakes alive. I'd like to see a
fool too young to think aboun gittin'
married these here days. And l war
rant you that thar air gals fool enough
to marry him. Oh you neenter jerk that
dasher around, for you know its fact
I do believe you'd d be fool enough your
self
The girl was silent. She had caused
to ply the churn dasher, she stood mo-
tionless gazing down the slope toward
the pool where she and the young fellow
had watched the bass and the perch.
YES the woman repeated, u DO be-
lieve that you'd be fool enough to marry
him yourself.
Well, if was to, I might not hav'
to churn all the time, the girl replied
resuming her work.
That's fact,' the woman quickl!
agreed. Yves, that's fact, for yo'
wouldn't have nothin' to churn.'
Well, Id rather not have nothin' t.
churn. wish thsre wasn't COW no.
where. Ihate'em. All the time goin
about causin' folks to churn. If l wa
to marry man I'd see that he didn'
have a cow
>You can safely marry Sam, then
He'll never have one-he'll meyer hav
anothing.>
He'll have wife if he msrries,
reckon
Don't YOU sass me, Nell. | won