Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1897-12-15

S.M on won't fergit the
| loA MI roastin'-years, Uncle
soN4%%n2 Tip?"
SoNG ''Naw, honey"
INV ssNer the simlins?"
''Naw, chile.
@A can you'll dig a
~ ~ big mess O. sweet
potatoes to bake?"
'sYas, gas, sugar"
ssAn' cook all the other truck jest
like I tole you, an hev everything
ready percisely at six o'clock?"
''Yas, honey, yas."
Uncle Tip Tucket, who sat on q
backless chair in the open passagewey
between two log rooms, looked a little
bewildered and clutched at his scant
locks as if to hold onto his memory
ere it should give him the slip, as his
niece ratified off her brisk catechism.
He was o slow, amiable man, with
| mild, blinking eyes and wispy gray
hair.
Izora Tucket, his niece, was all
briskness, from her quick, black eyes
to her long feet neatly laced into her
well-polished best shoes. Her freshly
done up pink lawn skirt set out around
her, unyieldingly stiff and smooth
with abundant starching and elaborate
ironing, and ratified crisply when she
moved; her white waist was like tin,
every friil and fe sticking out with q
sharp edge to it. Her light, thin hair
was braided tightly and fastened very
fatty against her head. and her best
handkerchief was pinned smoothly
around her neck.
'Izory, 1 can't find ary clean ham
kerchuf," drawled plantive voice
from the room on the left of the pas
sageway, and another girl appeared in
the doorway, in costume the cour' y
part of Izora's, excepting that :.
skirt was blue instead of pink. This
second girl was younger than Izora,
plumper, more deliberate of movement
and softer of voice.
With brisk movement Izora flashed
past her into the room, like pink and
white streak, her skirts rustling
starchily.
"Wisht you'd a-said SO before" she
commented briskly, unlocking trunk
and lifting the lid of box inside.
"We amt got any time to lose. I'll
loan you my buff border one; an don't
you crumple it up an tie knots in it
like you done with yourn last Sunday"
The plump girl blushed, and sat
down upon the edge of the bed with
its blue and white counterpane and
stiff, square pillows, and was promptly
pounced upon by Izora.
"Git up!" said she. 'sYou're O.
mussin' the kiverlid, Susan" !"
"Izory," said Susan, as she moved
over to the window, ''don't you reckon
Uncle Tip'd kinder like to go long to
the picnic, too?"
"Reckon SO" responded Izora, who
was giving her mind to the setting OF
| her white straw hat, with it's pink rib
bons, straw loops, huge, bobbing red
rose and chunky bud, on the exact top
of her he'd, where she secured it by
'jabbing long pin through it snd a
strand of her hair.
can I don't see," pursued Susan,
speculatively, "whut'd be the hurt"
"Susan Tucket, air you idit?'
demanded Izora, wheeling about.
"First place, who'd git supper? Amt
Gid Tompkins shore to be long with
me, an more'n likely Sam Bean with
you, an wouldn't we hev to run
scootin' round like hoppergrasses a.
cookin supper std of takin' it easy?
An second place, amt that long-nosed
old maid Clementyne Plummins boun'
to be there, an amt she got her yaller
cat-eyes onto Uncle Tip, an he'd 'em
there fer the last ten years? She'd of
snapped him up like jaybird does a
bug, forty times over, eff it hedn't "a
been fer me upsettin' her plots an
keepin' him out'n her way. He's will
lin enough to be snapped up, an once
git 'em at a picnic playin' Sister
Phoebe an two Tinkers,' an they'd
be engaged inside of hour, I'll insure
you. I amt KEEP 'em apart this long
to let 'em git together at picnic at
last"
"Well, I do'no," drawled Susan;
"maybe they air that away. But
what eff they was to? Clementyne
amt noways mean or fractious. Why,
law you kin most run over her ef
you want to.
''That's all the further you kin see, u
returned Izora, scornfully; "not a
eench beyond yer nosel Don't Glenn
entyne an her NAV live alone, an
wouldn't her NAV live whurever
Clementyne did, an wouldn't sl.e be
a-bossin' things lively round this
house? An do you an me want q
greet big feather-bed of step-aunt-in-
law, Ell whutever she'd be, a-runnin'
things here?"
"I do'no," began Susan again; "I-''
'I do, interrupted Izora, decisively.
"You amt got gumption enough to
pound sand. Come along; yonder's
the sun, way up. Well be late
The fall was very bountiful one
that year, and seemed to hold all the
sweetness of summer in it's mellow
clasp. Down in this out-of-the-way
corner of Missouri no sign of frost had
yet appeared, and the sun was mild
and clear.
Uucle Tip Tucket stood in the log
'1ean-to" kitchen, surrounded by the
generous offerings, freshly gathered,
OF the rich, well-cultivated soil of his
thrifty garden. Great round, cush-
iony, crimson tomatoes; long, pink
red sweet potatoes; plump ears Of corn
in their silken, green husks; creamy
marrow squashes; translucent pods OF
wax-beans; broad pods full of butter
beans; crookneck squashes and cucum-
bcrs, were piled about him in hunger
provoking profusion. And still Uncle
Tip stood, with dismay in his face,
staring perplexedly at his vegetable