The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1900-06-03

than plough1ng ana plahuuS anu 49,
and setting out and gathering the crops.
Then you don't know where all Oh theiii
are"
Levi Bresson looked surprised.
Know where they are? Well, you DO
expect a good deal. Having forty-one
children's one thing, but keeping track
of them s another. Why, / wouldn't know
them, some of them, if I saw EN-. CON-
even recall their names. How couid L
Some of them are almost as old as be.
The oldest. If he's living, must be sixty
six years Old"
But you couldn't have married at fif-
teen?"
THAT'S what did. I wasn't quite
turned fifteen. The woman, she was
twenty-eight. She was a good, strong
girl, just the sort for a farmers Wife'
and she knew how to keep house neat.
She was just double my age, but that
didn't hurt; / had youth enough on my
side Too much of it, the priest SAID
and it took much coaxing and threatening
to make him marry us"
what did the girl think about it?'
well l guess she thought her chances
weren't getting any better, and she push
ed things along. Fact is, she spoke about
it first and / took to it pretty kindly
though it was some sooner than expect
ed; but 1 was tall as / am now, and Ia
worked out farming since was nine. Ia
quite a little bit saved and I got small
place with It, with several acres of gooi
ground and covered 1t with garden truck
The crops turned out fine, everything went
along lovely, and at the years end we had
our first child 1t was a son, and though
I've had forty-one others, 1 will say thai
was the finest baby 1 ever saw. 1t looked
like me-that is, like looked when I was
a baby. After that they came every year
for six years. We named our boys Mat
RI Tit1r an
girls were Ruth and Esther. Eight years
after our marriage my wife died. She was
then whirty-six years old and 1 was TWEEN
ty-threc.
ssThat Second ONE"
THAT second one" he said tenderly.
"Ah miss, / wish you could ha' seen
her. There was a woman to remember! L
couldn't Just tell you now whether her
eyes were black or blue, or her hair dark
or golden. 1t was nearly sixty years ago
when l, saw her first, and when l saw
her last her hair was white.
1t wasn't just the coloring, you know,
nor the features you can describe that
made her the loveiiest woman in the
world for thirty-five years 1t was some
thing about the ways she had and the
things she said without speaking and the
sacr fees she'd make-an quiet like, that
you wouldn't fad out till long after, and
many one, l guess, God bless her, that
never was found cut at all. We
had twenty-four children, and TWEEN
ty-one of them were girls. We
had the finest family there ever
was For a long time we prospered
Our crops. were bountiful, our children
thrived. Then came the cholera. That took
two. 1t was the first blow, and we felt it
keenly. Then diphtheria took another, and
the baby caught it and followed During
Of o. or
frcm colds, and the following spring
young Jean, who was his mothers favor
lie, disc bcyed her and went in swimming,
and he never came back to ask her for
giveness.
MarccIIe the Dreamer.
by this tine 1 had grown to hate the
place, and so when some of the neigh
bors went over into Canada looking for
HANDS for he mills we packed our be-
lonsings and made shift. There was
Ma v and me aid the fifteen children that
was left My first wife children had
grown UP and gone out into the world to
make homes for themselves. don't know
where they are now One of my daughters
is in Minnesota somewhere. / remember
her because she was like her mother my
second wife. She used TO sit at an old
| spnning-wheel and dream about lovers
! and heroes and romancss out of the books
/ sSe read. Her hair was the color of the
! fax, ard her voice was like the low, soft
hum of the spinning wheel. We'd great
| hopes for her, for they called her wonder
| fol pretty, and she wasn't practical, like
| the rest of us farm folks. Her nanne.--let
me see; ah, Marcelle; that was her name
And the lover she dreamed of came
| along"
/ And what was his manner"
Hang his namer' said the old mar
! f1GrQalV M ~ nd Tfxya
was like all your book lovers would be-
in real life-soft and weak and no good
You don't catch that sort having forty.
one children and working to bring then
all up decent and honest like. He wa:
no good. and he broke her heart. Their
he took her off out West. and Pm GLAD
| he did. 1t made murder in my hear
to look mt her, once so sweet and pretty
When we got down here they all wen
over to The mill except that second wo
man and me. / worked the farm anC
she tended the house, and the children
brought home their money and we go
| prosperous again. Our girls were wei
dressed and we'll behaved. Not a girl il
all that family brought disgrace TO us
| That second woman rests over on tn,
| hillside y0nder now. When get through
I'm going 10 rest beside her; and it'll
be real resting. too. That second wo
! man.
yet you married again"
| "Oh, yes; that was eighteen years ago
when she died. and I was a young mar
| yet. This here woman I've got now
| she'll be back shortly-she never woul,
have got any one else. She's powerful
| homely, and 1 felt sorry for her. I feI
sorry for her for about eleven months
| and then / married her You see, Will
was feeling sorry for her, 1 rot I,
feelin' sorry for myself. II was prett,
lonesome after having the houseful l.,
been used 60. So got this woman
| Maggie Labarge her nome is-and l start
cd over new. ! was GA and she was .,
She's n good sort; got q little temper
but I've been through a whole lot and
don't mind that. We get along first rate
She likes to be boss, 50 let her thin
she is. You see, she has an idea 1'r
sort OF an old man. but I'm not. View
had eleven children, and seven of Their
are living"
There was a noise Of footsteps In tn