The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1898-12-01
THE CHRISTENING |
OF SARAH'S ELDEST |
h
By Kenneth HEREFORD. I
THE balmy breezes of down east"
BY Kenneth Herford

The grain stalks waved their taSSeled
heads gently and rhythmically-an
ocean of golds-and the birds chirped
their joy among the ripening fruit in
the branches of the harvest apple"
tree, there by the corn crib.
On the back porch of the old, old
farm house-an echo, seeming, of an
other day,-behind a screen of Dutch
mans pipe and woodbine, Aunt Jane
sat in cane seat" brought from the
front room, husking the sweet corn for
dinner.
Now and then an ear of the pearly
kernels would fall from her hands into
the pan and she would, for an instant,
look off down the road or across the
field toward the dark green wood be-
yond-absently, her mind racing back
the pathway of the years to the days
when she and Silas were children to-
gether in the old red schoolhouse; lead
ers, afterward. in the singing school,
lovers at the huskiag bees, and then
their wedding.
Once or twice Aunt Jane took off her
steel bowed spectacles and pulling up
her apron cleared the glasses with
corner of it. Then she would arrange
them again comfortably astride her
nose, slipping back the lows into the
ruts that time had made above her
ears, and pulling down, ever so slight
1y, the gray hair over them. Then. of
sudden returning to her task, she would
tear off the green husks impatiently,
as though by sheer force pulling her
self back to the evening of the pres
ent, from her moments ramble in the
morning of the past.
With my book, over on the other side
of the porch, did not intrude into the
domain of Aunt James revery. Ere
quently on looking up | would see her
lips moving, as though she hummed to
herself some old-time song or repeated
in her heart some words that long since
had been told her. would smile, sim
ply, and resume my reading When
the last ear had been stripped of its
gown of green and the brown silks"
had been picked from between the rows
of kernels, Aunt Jane set the pan down
on the floor of the porch and gazed
out across the fields.
DO you see" she said, after a mo
ment, and from the tone the words
seemed as much addressed to herself as
to me, though | responded. do you
see." she said, that big tree cross
there, right at tn edge o tn woods.
TIL one mex t. tn old blasted oak?"
| leaned forward in my rocker and,
shading my eyes with the open book,
gazed in the direction she designated.
"Yes," | replied; has that tree story,
Aunt Jane?"
heard sigh, but so gently breathed
that it seemed but the echo of sigh.
No, faint got story. That's tn tree
where Silas asked me t. marry him.
Nearly every man in tn Heminway
family, pears, asked their wives t
marry em under that tree. Silas'
brother, Seth, asked Sary t. marry him
while they was a-strollin' through
them woods one day, long, long time
ago. Seems ages almost. 1t was right
under that tree that he asked her. Sary
told me of it durin her las sickness
when we tryin' t take care of her here
at tn house. Her room was the back
one upstairs, an she asked us t. pull tn
bed down so't she could see tn tree out
o tn window. If amt mistaken she
died a-lookin' at thSt tree. She told
Seth fore their fust child was born
that she wisht if she should die, he'd
take tn child out under that tree every
birthday O. hern' an tell it that it was
there that it's mothers happiness be-
gun. But Sary didn't die-not then.
She had three boys an one girl grown
up before she passed away. | wonder
If me or Sias ever told you bout tn
christenin' O. Sary's eldest?"
And through the moisture that mem
DRY had caused to gather in Aunt James
eyes there broke the light of a smile
that broadened and deepened until she
laughed.
Your mother likely knows it," she
said, but if she amt told it t you l
s'pose might as WE'LL
And | knew that there was to be for
me another delightful human chapter
out of Aunt James delicious volume of
"reminiscences. l leaned back in my
chair and closed my eyes to be carried
away by her to another day, another
world-to me.
"Seth's wife's name was an Empson
fore she married Seth. TIL Heminway
an tn Empson farms joined down be-
low that stone wall by tn creek. TIL
Heminways was always on good terms
with tn Empsons an tn Empsons was
always tn same with tn Heminways,
so. with tn two farms joinin', 'twant
no more'n nacheral tibet in course o
time Seth an Sary should get married,
t sorter join tn property a mite closer,
as old Hiram Heminway used t say.
An 'twant. TIL weddin' o tn two was
jest tn ordinary conclusion O. two
children bein' raised within a stones
throw o. each other an no blood rela-
ton between EN-. 1t was tn nacheral
result of protracted period o singin'
school an huskin' bees. Anyway they
was married. Their eldest was born
bout tn end of tn second year as I
reco!lect now. | remember that child
almost as well as remember Ezra, my
first. 1t was as pretty a baby as you
ever set your eyes on, and as bright and