The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1897-03-23
A LAZY LOVER.


He'd "a know'd we was a-goin to hev
it like this, you'd "a seen me a-leavin
home-you'd "a seen me a-leavin
home.''
The old man thoughtfully stroked his
bushy beard. He felt that he had met
but just retribution for coming to the
store to loaf When, an hour before, he
had awakened from a doze in his arm
chair, picked up his stout stick and
hobbled to the village, the sky was clear
and blue. Not a cloud was visible any
where, and the sun was blazing down
on the fields of yellow grain that he
overlooked from the porch of his little
house on the hill But the storm, as
storms do in that mountainous part of
Pennsylvania, was gathering its force
unseen behind the neighboring noun
tains, piling black cloud on black cloud,
and then, like an army charging on a
sleeping enemy, it swept forth from its
hiding place amid the flash of light
ming and the crash of thunder and del
uged the valley.
MY, oh, myp' muttered the old
man. "It serves me right. ought to
"a know'd better. Whenever I runs
down here for minutes loaf, it rains.
Never team comes along to give me a
lift home, an I hez to paddle back in
me lealy ole boots. -
He hobbled to his chair by the empty
stove about which were gathered the
men of the village, despite the fact that
no fire blazed within and cold weather
was far ahead.
81 hope the company hain't displeas-
in" snapped the chronic loafer. He
knocked the ashes out Of his pipe, refill
ed and lighted it and sprawled out upon
the counter, pillowing his back against
pile of calicoes.
"Not at all, at all It's the 1oafn
hate. never could loaf, - said the old
man, glancing at the prostrate form.
The chronic loafer made no reply save
a faint tHuhl''
"Jest because felly sets around the
stove hain't no sign he's lazy, said the
miller warmly.
Fur be it from me from sayin So
boys, fur be it, said the patriarch,
stroking his beard. But, as was sayin
awhile ago, l don't want to git inter no
sech habits as Absalom Bunkel "
cabs lom Bunkel = Bunkel-Bunk-
el?'' repeated the shoemaker, punctuat-
ing his remarks with puffs of tobacco
smoke.
Bunkel-Bunkel?' said the store
keeper inquiringly, tapping the end of
his nose with his pencil
"Who the heck's Abs lom BunkelP"
the loafer cried.
"Absalom Bunkel was man as was
nat rally SO lazy it was credit to him
every time he moved the patriarch
began "You uns knows the ole lawg
house tibet stands where Big run crosses
the road over the mountain. It's all
tumbled down now. They amt no
daubin atween the lawgs. The chin
bley's fallen; the fence hez gone, an the
lots choked up with weeds. It's for
lorn place, but when was a lad it
was jest about the slickest thing along
the ridge yander. That's where Absalom
DuhAOA AfSu OH LIS pap 44Nou Do1OI0
him. Absalom's pap was stingy man
so stingy he'd squeeze a cent tell the
Injun yelled Consequent, when he died,
he left Absalom fortune of $700. 1t
was forth thing fer the son, fer
he'd much ruther "a set ON the porch
a-listenin to the birds an watchin the
bees hummin over the sunfowers, with
the pangs of hunger a-gnawin throo his
insides than to "a worked.
''Now, Absalom was afore my time,
out heard all about him from my pap,
an what my pap said was allus true
true as gawspel, it was. When ole man
Bunkel died, Absalom was 80 year old.
He didn't go off spendin his fortune.
Not much. He jest set right down on a
rockin chair on the front porch an let
his sister Nancy tend the house. Nance
MIXED the COW, Nance made the gar
den, Nance done the homework an come
to store. He done nothin-absolute
nothin.
He was never outer bed afore sun up.
Eff 1t was warm, he'd set on the leetle
porch all day, lookin over the valley,
watchin the folks goin by an the birds
a-swoopin along the fiel's or throo the
trees, listenin to the bees a-buzzin aroun
the garden, to the dreamy hum of natur',
fer to do him credit he loved natur' Eff
it was cold, he set all day be the fire.
place a-bakin his shins Once in awhile
Nance'd fergit to leave him wood when
she went out fer spell. Does he cut
someP Not him. He jest goes to the
nearest possible fence rail, kerrys it in
ter the house, sticks one end inter the
fire an keeps a-pushin it In as it burns
off.
Now, it happened thet when he he'd
ben hvin this way tell his forty fifth
year ole Andy Crimmell TUX the place
about mile beyant his. One nice aft
ernoon, as Absalom set a-dozin on his
front porch, Andy's dotter, Annie May,
come trippin down the road on her way
to store, lookin as pretty as a pictur' in
her red sunbonnet, swingin basket an
singin melancholy piece. Absalom
woke with start as she stepped outer
the woods above the house, an he got a
sight of her pink cheeks afore she duck
ed under her bonnet, fer when she seen
him she sudden stopped singin an
walked by, a-lookin over the valley
Thet one glance done Absalom Bunkel
He staid awake tell she come back.
''Thet night he didn't eat no supper.
:" Nance, seq he to his sister. How
fur ic II tO Grimm 1c9'
Nigh onter miled, sez she.
:" An he jest groaned, drawed his
boots, tux candle an went up to bed
''Twicet a week all thet summer
Annie May Crimmel come a-singin
down the road. An Absalom, dozin on
the porch, 'u'd hear her voice tell she'd
reach the edge of the woods. There she'd
stop her song an go ploddin by, gain
over the valley, like he wasn't about or
wasn't with lookin at. Absalom kept
gittin fatter an fatter from doin moth
in, an it seemed to him like Annie May
Crimmel was prettier every time she
went to store. He was onrastless; he
was unhappy. He know'd what was
wrong, an he seen no cure, fer to him
tibet girl walkin long the road not 90
rods from his house was like chunk
of bread danglin jest beyant the reach
of starvin man.
Perhaps you uns wonder why he