The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1896-04-29
A Matrimonial Campaign.
BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.

The old village clock was striking
eight in its muffled, asthmatic way,
when Mr.. Blidgefeld came up the
garden path with paper of moist,
brown sugar under one arm, and half
pound of parafline candles under the
other.
On each side of him rose up plump
heads of cabbages, and blue-green
swamps of onions. A thrifty hop
vine was waving its tassels against the
porch pillars, and bed of parsley
was growing rankly by the gate. For
Mr.. Blidgefeld was a firm believer in
the beauty OF utility.
In the days of his deceased wife
there had been faint attempt at
morning-glory vines, clove-pinks and
Johnny-jumpers around the house,
but Mr.. Blidgefeld soon settled that
matter.
"Fudge!" he had ruthlessly cried.
"They amt good to neither stew for
cough mixtures, nor to boil up for
green's. Looks? What do care for
looks? Amt squash bloom every
bit as pretty as a marigold, I'd like to
know? My daughter must be brought
mp not to care for empty show |"
And so all the wild, fantastic beauty
of nature had been narrowed down
into vegetable borders aud potato
patches, and the souls of the Bldge-
field children had been narrowed &c.
cordingly.
Money money! money! That was
the god of Mr.. Blidgefield's idolatry.
He went to church on Sunday, and
sat out the service in his hard and
cushionless pew, but to him all that
the choir sang and the preacher
preached was-money
He attended the prayer meetings
punctually, for he was member of
the church, but he never put more
than copper penny in the plate.
"If every man takes care of number
one," he said, with hard compress
sion of his lignum-vite lips, "the
whole world will be took care Off
He rose up early to economize the
sunshine. and lay down late for fear
of wasting time. He kept whole al
manac full of proverbs on the tip of
his tongue, and denounced "shiitless-
ness" as if it were one of the seven
cardinal sins Dancing was an instru-
ment of the Evil One; novel reading
was the opening wedge to Dante's
Purgatorio. Anything in the shape
OF innocent recreation was a direct fly
ing in the face of Providence. And
the Blidgefield children grew up gaunt,
careworn and prematur ely old under
the system of training.
Mr.. Blidgeietd's first wife had
dropped quietly aud obscurely into
her grave before anyone fairly COM
pretended that she was not in high
health. Hard work and relentless
taskmaster had fairly worried her out
of the world. And all the neighbor-
hood marveled, when ten years after
ward, Nancy Bloom married the wild
over.
Nancy was the village sch ool-teach.
era bright eyed, buxom young
woman of twenty-eight or thirty.
She had taken fancy to the little
Bliigefelds. and she was tired OF
teaching, aud wanted home.
Il you'll find Ben Blidgefeld hard
nut to crack" said the neighbors,
! warningly.
"I'll risk it," Nancy had cheerily
replied.
Aud 80 she married Mr.. Blidgefield.
and went to the farmhouse to live.
ne six young Blidgefelds had been
, told That stepmothsr was fearful
tGlnaj but to their surprise they
! found Nra, BlidgeHeld, Number Two,
! aypvslstlon of delight
1he showed me how to boi
61sasoapdy with hickory nut
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