The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1895-03-17
BEN AND MR.. MANNING.

ner mind to have some butchers meat
for dinner. 1t was the butchers day,
and any moment he might appear round
the turn in the road that led to the vii
lage.
Any one would have called Abby Ann
a very good looking woman as she stood
in the middle of the kitchen trying to
make up her mind absolutely as to the
meat. She was tall and well formed;
she had an oval face. with what was
generally described as loads of light
hair twisted at the back of her head
and falling in a pretty looseness about
her forehead. Her mild blue eyes were
pleasant to look at. Still Abby Ann was
thirty-ive years old, and unmarried.
In deprecating this fact her friends
always explained that. though Abby
Ann was real handsome, IN jest as good
as h could be-" the men somehow
didn't seem to take to her. There were
people who added to his explanation the
remark that the men didn't know any
thing, anyhow.
1t gives me pleasure to record at the
beginning of this sketch that at this
moment Abby Ana is an engaged
OAiiu Al she StduuS tItIe lliIlkl1S
of meat for dinner she is betrothed to
James Manning, who lives on the Burnt
River road, and who has had one wife
whom he has buried and one wife whom
he has not buried, but who has left the
Manning home because, as she said,
she couldn't stan it there another in
stant." This was felt to be a vague ex-
PLANTATION Of her departure. but it was
all she ever ~vouchsafed to give.
1t was generally understood. however,
that she left Mr.. Manning for the pur-
pose of going away with an agent for a
superior kind of lamp chimney. This
agent had travelled through the village,
and had returned again and again until
Mrs. Manning had departed with him.
Under the circumstances the deserted
husband had had no trouble in procuring
a legal release from his wife. When he
had really got his bill' he Immediately
began to go home with Abby Ann Ca
pen from all evening meetings and to
call upon her more and more often.
Now, | tell you what It's" said Alb
by's mother to her daughter. II amt
got n grain of respect for any man
whose wife runs away from him."
But, mother was the che
amt to blame cause Cynthy went off
with. that peddler."
Mrs. Capen shook her head.
You needn't tell me-, shes said. but
If you want him to come here courtin'
l amt goin' to make no row. You've
BEN of age this sometime, and you en-
do s you please; but I amt no opinion
-nf Tov,aC RTo-.;-- yo-x
goin' to hail the butcher?''
II was thinkin' of it."
'4You amt all run out of vegetables,
be your
AS she put this question Mrs. Capen
turned round from the sink where she
was washing out a few handkerchiefs
and towels She looked over her glasses
at her daughter, and a smile came to
her shrewd face as she looked.
You needn't git no meat OF my ac-
count, she went on. II en- git long
first rate. l always did like baked
p'taters m cream. They're real salts
fyin' to me- M pie m cake-Im doin'
Abby Ann wa1ke up to the sink.
There was a puzzled expression on her
fair c-ounteDance.
II d'know how it's, mar she said,
that book on vegetarianism reads all
right, n / did make up my mind /
never'd touch meat again. But for two
or three days I've ben feelin' so all gone
II In knows / was fitted to be a
vegetarian. What do you think, mar?'
Mrs. Capen was "~sudsing' a towel up
and down in her tub. She replied that
she was sure she idn't know what Abb
by was fitted for, but She knew one
thing she VAN fitted for. N that was
to go over on the Burnt River road m
live with James Manning.
"Oh. mother. how awfully down on
James you be-
Mrs. Capen laughed. She began to
wiring out her towel. She said it would
be a pity if mother and child should
both be in love with James.
The sound of wheels on a rough road
was now heard by both women.
There's the butcher. You'll have to
make up your mind about meat:
Abby Ann snatched UP a shawl from
the table and put it on her head as she
ran into the yard. She was Just in time
to signal to a man driving a white-eov-
cred cart.
This man Immediately drove up to the
doorstep.
Abby Ann walked hesitatingly to the
bach of the cart, where the meat was
displayed. She gave q little shudder as
she looked at 1t. but that "goneness'' of
which she had spoken urged her on.
II 'spose you kill all your own crit
ters, don't you, Mr.. HIP h asked
"Sartin'," in a jovial tone. ut don't
hurt UNI hardly a bit"
..It seems a pity to take life when
WAL" hastily interrupted Mr.. Hill,
s'you wouldn't want to eat UNI alive,
would We? That's one reason why I
can't never swaller an oyster-raw. /
mean. I keep thinkin' they're swimmin'
oun in my stummick. Was you
lookin' for d piece to stew or fry, Abby
ANN
Before she could reply Abby Ann dis
tinct1y heard a growl from the front Of
the wagon.
whats that? she asked quickly.
"Shet up, won't yep shouted Mr.. Hill.
He was not addressing this remark
to the woman near him, but to what
ever had growled. He now turned to
her and said twas a thunderin' dorg
he was takin' home to knock in the mead
for Squire Beals."
ssThat bull terrier; mebby you've seen
it, though he amt had it long. 1t loves
to fight betser'n 1t loves to eat. It's jest
had a fight with a beast twice its size
that was worryin' the 'Squire's cat. It's
all mangled up. Squire told me to take
1t home m make way with 1T. Did you
say you'd have a piece to stew"
The butcher punched his grimy fore
finger into a chunk of meat as he spoke,
and remarked that there vas a piece
''that would go grand in a smother"
But Abby Ann had left his side and
gone to the front of the wagon.
On the floor under the seat, and