Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1896-03-31

10 me enn OI your journey, ~" 'Ho
bride better sit plum down an put
them shoes on. South Caroliny law says
no bride amt married bein her shoes Is
tied round her neck endurin the cere-
mony. An you, young man, jest lay
your 'baccy on that rail. Now line
hands. You are goin for to take this gal
for better or for worser, for to be your
welded wife. Great Scott Got a rale
gold ring? What II you uns take for hit!
Give you half dollar Won't sell hitI
All right. Keep a-holt. You gal, you
'cept him for your old man an swar to
milk the COWS an feed the young onesi
All right, friends. You uns is plum
hitched. John, you kiss the bride. Now
go home, an good luck TO you. "
Mine host Hooper, who had witnessed
the scene, came to think that IL was
rather serious joke and told Bennett
that he had gone a little too far. Where
upon Bennett waxed exceedingly wroth
and declared that his reputation was as
good as any mans in the settlement,
and he wouldn't have his integrity i'm
peached. A week later Hooper handed a
note 10 the mail rider informing the
happy couple that the ceremony was a
fraud, and that Colum Long and Jack
Davis were the practical jokers who had
yictimized them. The mail rider found
the girls mother at the postofiice and
left her the maddest woman ON Chunky
Gal mountain. A few evenings there
after as Hooper was sitting on his porch
along came the same pair from the
south, re-enfOrced by the brides father.
Cant you give Us somethin to eat,
neiehbor!" said the old man. Il allow
my gal is rightly married now. Whar's
them varmints, Colum Long and Jack
Davis? I low to put the law on to
them.
Were powerful hungry, said the
boy. "Slep' out on Timber mountain
las night. "
"Oh, now, shoo," said the bride.
"we didn't do no such thing-jes been
a-walkin all the time
The party was fed and the old man
pacified and advised that it would be
better to keep the matter quiet and pre-
vent unpleasant gossip up Chunky Gal
way.
On Saturday afternoon I walked two
miles over "A charming mountain road to
spend the night with Monroe Hooper, one
of the most daring Of the outliers in war
times, member Of the Ninth Tennessee
volunteers, who, with his brother Mack,
was sent back on the Tuckasegee with
recruiting papers-the same Monroe
who, with Sill and Lamson secure III the
laurel. had stood out on the rock over
looking the forks Of the river watching
the sheriff's 800 in pursuit Of them. A
comfortable house, with spacious barns
and outhouses, was surrounded by u
fruitful and well cultivated farm.
Through the side yard flowed clear
mountain stream overgrown with laurel
and grapevines and full Of trout il the
spring. Near the house broad granite
rock sloped into the stream, with hearts
and names cut in its surface, and here
by the never failing water was the fam
lily wash place, with iron kettle for boil
ing clothes and wooden paddle for
beating them on the rock.
On Sunday morning we We're to start
for the forks of the Tuckasegee, to see
Mack, my old guide from Shooting
Creek to Tennessee, and the others to
keep on to Webster for the opening OF
the court, which meets twice year, and
for the further excitement of political
tournament between the two candidates
for congress. When we went out to the
barn to start, expected to throw my
bag and camera into wagon, but was
surprised to find that we had but one
saddle mule between US. At Cashiers
valley we We're joined by Reilly Hooper,
with saddle horse and another mule.
! transferred my seat from MoDroe's
mule to the horse, and with my traps
in pair of capacious saddlebaes thrown
across the saddle and cushioned with
my overcoat we started for ride Of 20
miles.
The left fork of the Tuckasegee flows
through a gap in the mountains, the
road sometimes far above the sound OF
its tumbling waters. The high peaks are
covered to the base with massive tim