The Forrest City times., 1899-05-19
BM's Sore Point
DIsCoRDANT topnote was abou

A to issue from Nance's unbeautiful mouth and her red complexion glowed dimly through cloud of freckles. She wore the greater part of a blouse, which the belt around her waist refused to gather in with the upper portions of her tattered skirt. A pair of extra sized feet, shod in her fathers boots, carried Nance to the hut door, and once there she relieved herself of mighty yell. This arrested the attention of several bare-legged youngsters who were paddling in shallow portions of the muddy creek.
 Tt ain't bedtime nohow!" they shrieked in chorus, "'cause dad ain't to home."
 An old woman, crouched on log near the water, looking from the distance like an anthropoid ape, bade Nance leave the kids" to their pleasure. Nance marched over to where Gran sat, suddenly came to dead halt, snitfed in a very suspicious manner and pinched her own nose between finger and thumb.
 Stakes! What are you eatin', Gran ?"
 "Ror onion," came the reply.
 "Then you'd oughter be shot!"
 "Why. Nance?"
 "Bill Hargrove-he's comin' over from Kettle Gully. He'll be axin' me for his wife tonight, cause he said so."
 Gran looked up with supreme indif- ference, bit the onion with zest and in- formed Nance that the uncooked escu- lent was certain cure for freckles when freely indulged in. Nance's baby ish blue eyes filled with tears as she murmured in reply: "That Bill never made no shine about her freckled face."
 You'd best be sprucin' up bit,' she spitefully suggested, as Gran pocketed the remainer of the onion, Cor else keep out O sight when Bill comes and out O smell!"
 The old woman, grumbling an inaudi- ble rejoinder, then limped away toward the hut. Nance seated herself on the log and bemoaned her grandmother's overfree indulgence in the vulgar-smell- ing esculent. She drew a novelette, from her pocket and deftly selected pas sage from its pages in order to aug ment her woe. 'The Lady Clarissa." it stated, "in tripping lightly through the offensive farmyard unfortunately an noyed the sensitive olfactory nerves of her high-born lover"
 Nance laid the book in her lap and all most sobbed as she wondered whether Bill Hargrove had any olfactory nerves. The word was dark enigma to the simple girl. After constant repetition oS it in her own pronunciation she marched boldly home for Grams opin- ion concerning it.
 "Gran," she cried, 'p'raps our Bill ain't got no 'all-factory' nerves. eh?"
 What's them? Factory nerves-nol There ain't nothing machine-made about young Bill Hargrove. He were brought up on good clay soil and cow's milk. Don't you worrit over Bills nerves-'cause he ain't got none," Gran Nardon being the acknowledged oracle of Doughboy's Hollow, on ac- count of her immaculate cheeses. Nance at once accepted her assertion as fact indisputable and impatiently awaited BiiTs arrival. Poor Nance, She had striven to enlarge the horizon of her mind by the perusal of exciting fiction ever since Bill Hargrove had taken to playing nightly eucher with dad when at home or Gran. And she was in daily expectation of some such experience enlivening her drudgeful solitude as happened continually to the heroines of | romance.
 |
 When the children were huddled up fast asleep, in one corner of the living. room Nance slipped on cherry-colored apron, stuck blue ribbon in her flame. colored hair and tried to look and fec similar to a heroine of fiction. Gran had consented to cover her own general untidiness with a huge strip of sack. cloth, but steadfastly refused to per. form any further toilet.
 Then you'd best put on your big sun hat!" Nance savagely ordained, pulling 1t down from a peg. Gran donned it after much persuasion, remarking that it would save her from washing her face and help to shut the draught from her 1 old ears.
 Bill arrived and seated himself upon the chair that Nance, earlier in the day had polished so vigorously in his honor He was much unshayen, his broad face begrimed with red clay, with shirt sleeves rolled well up to the shoulder He looked far from hero. yet simple Nance thought him quite adorable. His features, grossly irregular. were over