The Bellefontaine Republican. [volume] (Bellefontaine, Logan County, Ohio) 1855-1905, 1898-12-27
time," said Mrs. Stuart. "Wouldn't It,

time, SAID Mrs. Stuart. WOuldn'G II,
Bessiey'
The girls face was in her hands. A
muttered word came from between the
fingers.
"Then the end of the month";" said
Mrs. Stuart, land now you'd better say
good night. The girls bit overcome
with the heat. Good night, Ben. Come
again tomorrow.
Ben strobe beyond her.
will you marry me, Bessie?" he
asked sharply. Let's hear you say it"
Mrs. Stuart smiled triumphantly in
the darkness.
eyes," faltered Bessie, with roam
ing look.
And he snatched her in his arms and
kissed her.
In the morning Ben was at work
among his cabbages and peas, and the
remem brance of that kiss was on him
as he worked.
That evening there was a glorious
dusk with a south wind. Ben, saving
wood, paused with the crosscut saw half
through piece of timber and drew his
horny hand across his forehead.
He was so far away that he quite
started to hear light football close be-
side him. He looked around, and there
dawned an astounded expression and
then a rapturous glow on his face.
"Bessiep' he exclaimed. "Bessiep
He put out his arms. What more per-
fectly natural than that she should slip
into them?
But she only smiled and shook her
head.
"I've come to have bit Of talk to
you, Ben," she said, and a new con-
sciousress of her power over this big,
| hulking fellow armed her with a
strength which was only born for the
occasion and which would have brought
smile to her stepmother's face.
81 don't quite know how to begin, I"
che said, "but-but don't believe you
care extra much for me yet, do you,
Ben? Not astonishingly much?"
"Don't 1, thought he burst out.
"Look here, Bess, would you believe it,
I've thought of you every moment Of
this blessed day. My wordp'
! She set her mouth. "Then if you
care for me that much can ask you to
do something for me-"
"Any mortal thing, my girl"
"You could give me up, couldn't
you? Couldn't you? Couldn't you? Oh,
Ben, I'm that miserable till you give
me up and 60 and tell my mother that
your don't want me! But, oh, Ben,
don't let her know l told you! There's
lots of other girls, and you don't wan
me, do you? Say you don't. just say,
4 don't want you, Bessie.
He said it after her mechanically
watching her hands twitching nervous
~ at his shirt sleeve.
''I don't want you, Bessie, he said
it's agen your willl"
i She stopped her head and her warn
lips pressed grateful kiss on his eartl
soiled wrist.
He told her mother about it, his eye
roaming restlessly about the parlor O
Bessie's home.
| On Sunday Bessie went to church an,
wore her big lace hat and sat beside he
mother.
Il Ben was on the opposite side Of tn
aisle and farther down the church, bu
he could have looked at her If he ha'
wished. He never once turned his hea
/ and Bessie watched him, even a
prayers.
u When the service was over, he stoo
up, head and shoulders above every one
and it appeared to Bessie his eyes wer
certainly on the door.
He raised his hat and passed on, hold
ing his head hieh-an unconscious di
! plomatist. Presently she saw him strid
| ing down the road as though it all be
, longed to him as we'll as the home O
its side.
Two months went by. Ben took u
his measure Of days and dealt wit
them as we'll as he was able, but th
evenings, when the cabbages and tn
D peas were carrying on their lives with
out him, when his washing up wa
done and the wind was stealing in th
? darkness around his home, then b
. staid to wonder how he was ever goin
s to take tomorrow into his hands.
He always took it, however, and
was always coming.
4 "We'd have had fire of an even
ing,'' he said two months after he ha
D given her up.
( There seemed tremendous amour
: of irony in cutting firewood, to his sim
pie mind.
Q A light footstep sounded behind hin
{ He started, and there dawned an al
/ founded expression, then a rapturor
glow on his face.
4 "Bessie'' he exclaimed. "BessieP ~
(. She tried to smile, but her face ws
q white and afraid, and her lips quiveret
"I've conceive come to see yor
q Ben," she said and was so unconscior
/ of her power over him that she tren
: bled.
81 suppose-I suppose that you don
q care about me yet, Ben. Do you? 70
t don't care bit, do you, Benz"
8 "What do you want plaguing n
for?'' be burst out. Cant you let N
; alone? Are you wanting me to lie ovt
again."
9 81 want the truth, Ben," she viii
pered.-London Telegraph.
Getting an Opening.
o A man had story about gun whic
he delivered himself of upon all occ,
sions.
4 At ,1inner marty one evening