The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1901-07-25

ee~c"o.o.o.0s36
and, to the left, through
the worldly and Ubiquitous village call
ed into existence only 4 year before by
the coming Of the new railroad.
This little cluster Of houses, a mush-
room growth Of implanted boards, in
cluded, besides a blacksmith shop and
general store, both welcome enough in
their way, a tavern conducted on wide
open principles under the name Of
Lowden's Halfway House, which had
speedily brought the locality into gen
eral disrepute. No one had discovered
toward what goal it marked the half
way point, unless it was that goal of
torment which is the ending of every
career of Incorporate prohigacy
In the dining room, which served like
wise as a sitting room, the deacon was
carefully cleaning stray scraps of wis
dom from the columns Of the Michigan
Agriculturist, the silence of the house
disturbed only by the loud ticking of
the farm clock on the shelf in the cor
ner and the busy click Of the knitting
needles in the deft fingers of Mrs.
deacon that he always postponed his
study Of The Agriculturist until after
the harvest, when the information he
might gain was sure to be of least
value to him.
Presently the clock tolled the hour
Of s, lingering long, it seemed, upon
the final stroke. Deacon Birdsell
started suddenly.
Mother" he said, don't you know
it's gettin pretty late:"
Mrs. Birdsell paused in surprise and
dropped the half finished sock in her
lap.
Eight and after, an it's high time
folks was abed," said the deacon. "Did
you shut down the back window an
bolt the kitchen door? An Joel-of
course JOePs in"
AS if in answer to the deacans qucs-
ton, the Quavering, uncertain notes of
a song sifted through the ceiling from
the chamber above.
"Sh!' Mrs. Birdsell said, holding up
her finger in warming
The song from the chamber above
gradually became more distinct until
word could be understood here and
there in its uncertain rtythm. It bore
distant resemblance to one of the pop
ular songs Of the day heard with great
frequency in the neighboring town, but
Justly abhorred for its worldly insinua-
lions in the peaceful Quaker church
neighborhood.
"William," exclaimed Mrs. Birdsell in
a trembling voice, "somethin must be
done right away. It's gettin just awful!
It's been weighin on my mind until
sometimes get that nervous"
The deacon gathered his shaggy gray
brows and strol1ed his angular unshav-
en- chin in silence for moment. II
hate to think it of JOEL" he observed
thoughtfully, ''but I guess it must be
true. Have you been notcin anything
else lately, Martha?" The deacon sell
dom addressed his wife by her given
name except on occasions of great So
lemnity.
Anything! Good land alivev Mrs.
Birdsell swept her hands around her
head as if she was warding off a swarm
of impending evil. ''It's gettin worser
an Worser every day. she exclaimed,
with great earnestness, IAN the worst
part of it all is he's gettin that brazen
about ito think, too, William, that
he's your own brotherr The song be-
gan again in the chamber above, this
time accompanied by the unmistakable
sound Of shuftling feet
Gust listen to that now," she went
on, with mournful emphasis. II guess
you can hear it for YOURSELF"
eyes, mother, you're right pro-
nounced the deacon refectively, slowly
noddng his head in the affirmative.