Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1895-01-26

WV ttN laced ola Dunkafd
W like Herman Larker
the very thought of
attendance upon such carousal, with
its round dancing and square dancing,
would have seemed almost impiety.
Henry Kuchenbach was likewise
member of that strict sect, but not
quite so narrow is his ideas as his
more pious neighbor. Yet to him
also the suggestion of his daughter be-
ing q participant in such frivolity
would have met with scant approval.
But William was longing to dance.
For many years he had secretly and
fondly cherished the belief that he
was possessed of much Unborn ability
in that art-a genius compelled to re-
main dormant by the narrowness, the
strictness of his family's ideas. Many
a rainy afternoon had he given vent
to his desire by swinging corners and
deux.et-deux-ing about his fathers
barn floor, with no other partner than
a wheat sheaf, and no other music
than that produced by his own capa.
cious lips,
1t was for this reason that when on
one beautiful July day William Lar.
ker, attired in his best-a plain black
frock coat, trousers of the same ma
terial reaching just below his shoe.
tops, a huge derby hat no longer
black, but green, as a result Of long
exposure to the elements, and a new
pair of shoes well Acknowledgment
into his buggy, tapped his sleek mare
with the whip and started at brisk
pace toward the Kuchenbach farm, his
stern parent believed that he was go.
ing to the great bush-meeting at
Bunkertown, twelve miles up the pike,
and was devoutly thankful to see his
son growing in piety, and when Mary
Kuchenbach, buxom and rosy, wear
ing plain black dress, the sombre'
ness of which was relieved solely by
white kerchief about the neck, and q
gray poke bonnet, as became one of
her sect, climbed up and took the va.
cant place beside him, Henry kuchen-
bach, standing at the gate with his wife
by his side, called after them as the
vehicle ratified away: "Be sure an tell
Preacher Book when he comes this
way to stop in an get that crock o
sausages we've ben keepin' fur
missus.
And good Mrs. Kuchenbach threw
up her hands and explained: "Ain't
them lovely pair?"
"Yes," replied the husband grimly,
san they've ben keepin' company six
years now, an that there fellow amt
never spoke his mind"
Meantime the buggy sped along the
smooth road, the rattle of its wheels,
the clatter of the sleek mares hoofs
and the thrill call of the killdee skim
ming across the meadows being the
sole sounds that broke the silence
of the quiet country. A mile was
gone over and then the girl said fall
teringly: cell, ant ct wrongg"
William in response hit the horse
a vicious cut with the whip and re-
piled:
| SET don seem jest right to fool EN-,
but you'll fergit bout ct when We git
dancin'."
81 amt never BIN ter one o them
plcnics an feel afraid"
Then there was a silence between
them--a silence broken only at rare
intervals, when one Of the pair ven
tured some commonplace remark,
which was always rewarded with a
laconic reply of "Yais" or eyer don't
sayP'
Up hill and down ratified the buggy,
following the crooked country road
across the wide valley. Over three
low, wooded ridges, then several
miles up the broad meadows that line
the picturesque Juniata it wendell its
way, until at length the green grove
in the centre of which lies the Blue
Bottle Spring was reached.
The festivities had already begun.
The outskirts of the woods were filled
with vehicles Of every description
buggies, buckboards, spring wagons,
omnibuses and ancient phaetons.
The horses had been unhitched and
tied to trees and fences, and were
munching their midday meal of oats,
gnawing the bark from limbs or kick
ing at the flies, while their owners
gave themselves up to the pursuit OF
pleasure. After having seen his mare
comfortably settled at small chest.
nut, from which she began playfully
tearing all the foliage, and taken the
lunch basket on one arm and his com
panion on the other, William Larkel
proceeded eagerly to the inner portion
of the grove, the portion from whence
came the sounds of the fiddle and cor
net.
They passed through the outer cir.
Gle of elderl women, who were un
packing baskets and tastfully arrsng
ing their contents on table-cloth,
spread on the ground-jars of pickles.
cans OF fruit, bags of sandwiches, bot
ties of cold tea, and the scores of other
dAinties necessary to pass pleasan:
day with nature. They went through
another circle of peanut, watermelon
lemonade ard ice.cream vendors
about which were grouped many ell
derry men discussing the topics OF tn,
day and exchanging greetings, and a
length arrived at the centre of inter
esJ, the dancingplatform. The younl
Duukards joined the crowd, whicl
was watching the course of the dane
with eager interest.
An orchestra OF three pieces, q has
viol, violin and cornct, operated
: by three men in shirt sleeves, sen
. forth wheezy strains to the time o
which men and women, young, old an,
middle.aged, gayly swung corners an
partners, galloped forward and back
made ladies' chains and gentlemen
. chains, winding in and out and the
back and bowling until William Larke
and his companion fairly grew dizzy
The crowd of dancers was n heterC
geneoCS one.
There were young men from tn
neighboring county town, gorgeous i
blazers of variegated colors; Their
ere vOIluy farmers whosp mOypmpni