The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1895-01-29

that he wore them about the house OF
/ evenings In his stocking feet. When
the dear old woman first saw him in
them, she came up and cuddled under
| his arms like child, and then stood
off looking at him and going around
him, and patting the wrinkles out and
saying: ''Why. Jimmie, you don't know
how proud ] am of you," until the girl
who saw how terribly the big boned
| brawny old man looked, how uncouth
he was for all his covering, with his
shaggy hair and beard, could only run
| to her room and laugh at what was
| the patient hard worked old woman's
dream come true. AS for the old man,
he took it very sensihly and kept say
ing: II hope you're satisfied" or AN
ME, Annie, you're a-wearin' the life out
of me keepin' me here on my feet all
night This was when she would hug
him and peer through her glasses loving
ly at the wonderful set of his coat. with
out the wrinkle across the back, which
marked all the garments that she
made for him. The day before they
started he brought home high silk
hat. without saying a word to her till
he appeared with it on in the evening
along with his new clothes. 1t was
too much for the soft-hearted old wom-
an to have thrust upon her all at once,
and when she saw him arrayed as he
had walked up her fathers footpath on
their wedding day, and then remem-
bered all the years and their suffering
that had broken him, all the hardships
that had gnarled his youthful figure
and scanned his rudy face, she broke
into sobs and smiles and chung to him,
while he stood there awkwardly and
said in his high-keyed voice: II hope
you've got enough of making jacka
napes Of me, Annie" But all the same
he tried to pet her and peered over her
shoulder to see how he looked.
They started on their trip the follow
ing afternoon, and the morning before
they started the climax to the town
story of the debut of old man MacF Far
land was acted. A tall rawboned man,
in black broadcloth Prince Albert,
with shiny black whiskers, standing out
like the quills of ''the fretful porcu-
pine wearing a high silk hat under
which the shiny black hair descended in
four sharp terraces to the back of his
neck, came stalking down the hill
toward the busy town. The men did not
know him at first, but when al last they
had penetrated the dye, and found it was
the old man MacFarland, laugh that
shook the town from end to end went
up. All the old man would say was:
"Oh, it's just some of Annie's doin's."
And now that I think over the life of
the old man over yonder tilted against
the stable whiting, the best thing
know of him is that the little woman
who stood watching him down the flow
err garden with tears in her proud eyes,
thinking of her husband young again,
following him in thought over the hill
and into the little heartless town,
where she fancied he would be met as
a man among men for once, never even
dreamed the truth. God gave her that
one day of well earned pride, and
there was nothing to cloy it. And L
could not tell this story if she were
alive to read it and to know what a
hero her blunt old Jimmy" was, that
day.
1 had written out the story of how
Mrs. mcfarland went through the
town the day she and her husband
started on their tour with her crushed
strawberry dress and her Gainsborough
hat. But the dear old soul never had
money, as we say, ito do with" and
she did not know about the proprietieS
when it came to her. But / cannot
make fun of her ignorance. Some one
else will have to make you laugh at
her sweeping down the street that day
4 cannot. Neither can l go into the
details of the time she had with her
Jimmie in their old Ohio home,
where he just would wear his cowhide
boots and where she could not by any
amount of coddling get him to wear
either collar or neck tie under his
shaggy beard. That is really part
of the story they tell around town, but
/ will not tell it. 1t seems like sacri-
lege to the tender heart that was so
firmly set on keeping her youth, and
drawing the old man back to his The
part of the story they do not tell m
glad that l can tell you. l heard it
from Mrs. Netherlands own lips as she
stood in her little flower garden the
morning she and old Jimmy" returned
from their trip. She told me, half
laughingly and half seriously, of the
obstinacy of Jimmy" and then added:
''Oh, well, hcme's the best place
after all, and / guess I'll live better
and happier here among my four
o'clocks, and dahlias, and coxcombs,
and honeysuckles. I've always had
them and my canaries in the old days
when there was nothing else. And
they are sweeter to me this morning
than ever"
That was nearly ten years ago, and
the flowers have been growing over a
grave out in the bleak, drearv little
graveyard for three years now, and
the old man who sits upon the tilted
bench by the stable has never said one
word about them to anyone. He only
whites ''pretties" for the children,
and they say he is breaking very fast
WILLIAM ALLEN WHITE.