Arizona republican., 1900-11-16
THE CHRISTENING
 OF SARAH'S ELDEST
By Kenneth Herford.
 

THE balmy breezes of a down east August morning waited across the | fields the sweet and soothing odor of the green and yellow growing things ! The grain stalks waved their tasseled
 heads gently aud rhythmically-an ocean of gold-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 housc-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 pearlv kernels would fall from her hands into inc pan and she would, for an instant. look off down the road or across the field toward the dark green wood be- y0nd-absently her mind racing back
 the pathway Of the years to the days when she and Silas were children to- ;,ether in lie old red schoolhouse; lead CTS. aftPrward. in the singing school. lovers at the husling bees, and then their wedding.
 Once or twice Aunt Jane took off her steel bowed Spectacies and pulling Gp her apron cleared the glasses with q corner of if. Then she would arrange them again comfortably astride her nose, slipping back the bows into the rutS that time had made above her ,I
 ly. the gray hair over them. Then. of q sudden returning to her task, she would tear of the green huslis impatiently, as though by sheer force pulling her self back to the evening of the pres cnt. from her moments ramble in the morning of the past.
 With my book over on the other side of the porch. I did not intrude into the domain of Aunt James revery. Ere quently nn looking mp would see her lips moving. as though she hummed to herself some old-time song CT repeated ia her heart some words that long since had been told her. l would smile, sim ply, and resume my reading. When he last ear had been stripped Of is 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 10 me. though l responded. Do you see,' she said, that big tree cross there, right at in edge O tn woods In one nex' t tn old blasted oak?"
 I leaned forward in my rocker and, shading my eyes with tho open book, gazed in the direction she designated "l'es,' |" l replied; has that tree story Aunt Jane?'
 heard q sigh, but so gently breathed that ii seemed but the echo of a sigh. No, 'tain't got q story. That's tn tree where Si!as asked me | marry him. Nearly every man in tn Heminway family, pears. asked their wives t marry 'em under that tree Silas' brother, Seth. asked Sary : marry him while they was a-strollin' through tl m wood; one day, q long, long time az. Seems ages almost. It 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 th' house. Her room was the bacl, enc upstairs. an she asked us | pull tn hed down so't she could see tn tree out O lh' window. If l ain't mistaken she died a-lookin' at that 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 its mothers happiness be- gun. Eut Sary didn't die-not then. She had three hoys an one girl grown up before she passed away. l wonder if me or Silas ever told you bout tn christenn' O SaIy's eldest?"
 And through the moisture that mem ory had caused to gat her in Aunt Jane's eyes there broke tine light of smile that broadened and deepened until she laughed.
 Your mother likely knows it." she said, but if she ain't told it t you l : pose l might as well.'
 And I knew that there was to be for me another delightful human chapter out of Aunt Jane's delicious volume of l leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes to be carried away by her to another day, another mo.
 'Seth's wife's name was an Empson fore she married Seth. Tn Heminway an tn Enpson farms joined down be- tow that stone wall by tn creek. Tn was always on good terms with in EmpsOns an th' Empsons was always tn same with tn Heminways, 50. with tn two farms joinin', 'tNant no more'n nacheral 1het in course O time Seth an Sary should get married, [ sorter join tn property mite closer, aS old Hiram Heminway used | say An 'twant. Tn weddln' O tn two was jest tn ordinary conclusion O two bein' raised within q stones throw O each other an no blood reia- lion between 'em. Ii was tn nacheral