Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1897-11-04
A GAME POSTPONED,
By GERTRUDE SMITH.
Lcopyright. 1sg7, by the Author.l

and now the snowplows were out, and
the first really good sleighing of the
winter would begin.
The great fields lay in unbroken
whiteness. The woods along the banks
of the Iowa river were pillows of snow.
The large farmhouses and the number
and size Of the barns and other outlying
buildings gave evidences of the richness
of the soil that lay buried and resting
for another harvest.
Judge Hilton's house had the distinc-
ton of being built of brick. There was
dignity in it's solidity over the usual
white frame houses on the surrounding
farms that well became the dignity Of
the judge.
The judge was New England born
and bred. There is veneration TO,
Puritan ancestry in the entirely west
ern soul, that the Puritan mind still
clings to for good old English blood.
Isabel Hilton was her fathers house
keeper and only child. The mother had
died while she was baby, and she had
ruled the house and been ruled by her
father since that time.
She had all her fathers reserve and
pride of family, and at the same time
his happy nature and gracious manner
that won her friends when she desired
to make friends. Those who found it
impossible to win their way into hen
favor called this reserve in Isabel her
"down east airs.'' There was a discour-
aging belief among the young men in
the country around, some of whose IA
theirs owned farms and herds of cattle
large enough to divide and establish
them in enviable beginnings, that if the
judge thought any Of them worthy to
win his daughters love there would
never be an opportunity to gain the
consent of the young lady.
The judge had theories against Isa-
bells entertaining young gentlemen, nor
would he permit her to go with any es.
cort but himself.
The privilege of spending the evening
with Isabel in the protecting presence
of her father was considered a mark Of
distinction and held the one SO honored
on the wave Of hope.
II a fellow had the backbone to out
sit the judge some night, he might pro-
pose to The daughter" was the COM
ment Mr.. Holderman made to his son
one day. Clint Holderman had been one
OF Isabel's most persistent admirers.
"The trouble of all Of you is you go
there shaking in your boots and talk to
the judge and come away with the big
head because you dared do that, but l
tell you If was a young fellow I'd out
sit him if / sat till the break Of day.
It's some such pluck us that the judge
is looking for. He raised her, and he
knows her value, and she amt going
cheap to none of you. If you can get in
ahead of the other fellows and tow her
in, I'll give you $4,000 and deed you
assertion of land Come, now, let's see
| what you re made Of y
In some way this lordly promise got
adrift the current Of country gossip and
reused. the admirers of Isabel, one and
all, to new interest in the contest.
Large stories were told of the late hours
the judge kept that winter with Isabel's
suitors.
Clint Holderman drove over to the
brick house early on the evening that
he had set his mind, with flintlike de-
termination, to give his father advice
the trial.
1t was cold night, and as he sped
along in his new cutter, drawn by a
handsome span of black horses, and
well tucked in with buffalo robes, his
heart was warm with hope.
He had spent many evenings of the
winter playing chess with the judge, SO
he was sure of his welcome, but tonight
he looked beyond all this. He thought
of the hour when at last, with his heart
and understanding touched, the judge
would bid them good night, and he
should be left alone with Isabel.
There was no handsomer young man
in the country than Clint Holderman,
none who danced better or who drove
better horses, but more than all this
the judge had repeatedly told him that
he had never known man who played
a better hand at chess.
This was an encouragement indeed,
for if the judge had weakness it was
for chess, and it would be decidedly
pleasant to have son lin law who could