Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1897-01-02
NEW ENGLAND COURTIK'

If any one man was better known
than another for miles around the
village of Conway twas Deacon Hard
ing, the pillar Of the Methodist church
and the strictest selectman the New
Hampshire village had ever know.
He had never married, aud some folks
said he was too mean, and that all he
thought about was putting up good
ly share OF this worlds goods to his
credit IN order that he might make
better provision for the commodities
of the next. But, then, people will
talk.
1t was, therefore, matter of con-
siderable speculation among his neigh
bors when the deacon was seen to stop
occasionally at the Widow Martin $
cottage, and many and varied were
the conjectures about the outcome.
The widow was plump. rosy checked,
and good natured, and her dear de
parted having left her more than two
years before she was, as she believed
herself, fully qualified to be considered
among the eligibles of the little world
in which she lived. She had heard
/ what women does not0 of her neigh
bors' talk about her, but being of that
happy disposition which does not heed
the stories Dame Rumor occasionally
circulates. she kept on her way re-
CARELESS of all the gossips said.
The widows cottage was an invit-
ing spot when the snow lay piled up
in great masses in the roadways and
on the mountain sides and the mercu-
ry was way below zero. A bright
light always shone from the windows
while the hickory logs cracked and
sputtered in the wide, open fireplace.
Everything about the place was so
neat, clean and wholesome looking
that one felt at home the moment he
crossed the threshold. At least that
is what Deacon Harding thought on
New Years eve as he came in sight OF
the coy home of the widow while on
his way to meeting Of thetown board.
The deacon was feeling cold and out
of sorts generally, and somehow his
ideas had been travelling for weeks
past in direction decidedly singular
for such confirmed bachelor as he.
All appeared to lead up to one OBJ
| ject and that was the Widow Martin.
The deacon was getting on dangerous
ground, but he didn't seem to know
it. He had always said there wasn't
a woman who could catch him. He
had lived SO long without one that he
was not going to be taken in by any
of them at this time of life. Not he;
and he grew several inches higher
every time he Rugged this consolation
to his breast. But this particular
New years eve he was unaccountably
lonely and dispirited. Everybody
who was anybody in Conway was full
of rest and cheer and just brimful OF
happiness. The spirit of the holidays
was everywhere, but the deacon was
alone. There was no one to welcome
him, no one to greet him with "a
Happy New Yearl' at his home, ex-
cept, perhaps, his old housekeeper,
who was. deaf and ill-tempered enough
to sour the biggest cask OF cider in
his cellar
1t was no wonder, then. that as he
reached the Widow Martins cottage
he determined to stop just for chat
with her and to warm himself before
going to the meeting. That was all.
If he had been told there was anything
else on his mind he would have thought
the suggestion ridiculous. The widow
heard the deacon's blackboard stop
in fact she had seen him coming up
the road-and there had been a hasty
glance over the room, and just peep
in the looking glass on the mantel to
see if everything was in order, long
before the deacon's voice was heard
on the frosty air and the wheels had
ceased to revolve in front OF the cot
tage. BY the time he had blanketed
and covered his horse and led him to
the shed out of the cold blasts that
swept down the hillsides and across
the valley the widow had the door
open and was waiting for her visitor.
81 just thought I'd stop a minute,
Mrs. Martin, to warm up. for it's pow