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

the red necktie encircling the stand up
collar that sagged out in tired fashion
at the front. The long tailed coat was
also conspicuous. She wished she had
mad the fOrethought to put on her
spectacles, for she knew that proper
scrutiny would detect faint creases in
front Of the bagging gray pants, AS
for the shoes, the noise on the stairs
had already told its own story.
We'll, l guess I'll walk out for lit
tie bit" he went on, taking no notice
Of the unusual restraint. .'The sky's
as clear as bell, an it seems Just
shameful to stay in. Won't have many
more nights like this"
"It's time honest folks was abed an
asleep" The deacons voice grated
harshly, although he tried his best to
be natural.
That's just one of your notions,
William" Joel answered, with a faint
laugh. 'sCome now, nights just as
good as day, amt it? Don't fret about
me. Just leave the key to the dinin
room door under the stone by the
steps, an I'll get in all right"
There was no reply.
IAN that reminds Sne,' the culprit
went on, "the next time 1 go to town
I'm goin to take that key along with
me an have one made like it. No use
talkin, man ought to have a latch
key"
This last worldly, whim, more signifi-
cant than anything else, worse even
than the reckless get up Of the cos
tune, fell with astounding weight on
the farmer and his wife. It was moth
ing less than the limit of moral de-
pravity. In the suddenness of the
shock there was no chance for reply.
Joel hesitated a moment, then picked
| up his hat and went out.
The deacon and his wife remained
seated, rigid with CONSERVATION, until
they heard him step off the porch
Then with one accord they arose and
tiptoed to the parlor window. Peering
out. into the darkness, they watched
him walk through the yard to the gate
and then turn his steps in the direc-
ton of the tavern, the lights of which
tinkled dimly half mile away down
the left fork Of the road.
1.-The times come, Martha" the dea-
con burst out. "Joel will hear from
me the first thing tomorrow mornin!
He's got to be shut off his scand'lous,
drunken ways instanter or, by the
| Lord, he'll"never stay another day un-
der my roof!'
Mrs. Birdsell was fairly struck dumb
before her husbands awful denuncia-
ton. 1t was the first time in her mar
ried life that he had so ruthlessly
broken the third commandment. and
she laid herself down to- broken sleep
and troubled dreams.
The first CLEAN of the rising sun was
already painting gold and purple hues
in the eastern sky when the deacon
slowly reused to the troubles Of new
day. Quickly throwing on his working
clothes, he FASTENED to the foot of the
stairs.
"Joel," he called to the upper cham
Der, "Joel, be stirrin! The suns more'n
an hour high. We've oversight scan
dIousv' ,r.
No answer came from above.
"Joel!' This time there was an an
CRY ring in the word.
And still no answer.
The deacon did not call again, but
started briskly for the stables, his
heavy boot heels making dark half
circles in the light frost that covered
the ground. He was surprised again
to find the heavy doors thrown wide
open to the morning breezes. Sounds
were issuing from within, and as he
paused he heard his brother Joeps
| voice lifted in song, the rhythm punctu-
| ated by the steady swish" of milk
against the bottom and sides of the
tin milk can.
The absolute unexpectedness of the
| situation caused the deacon to hesitate
| In doubt a moment ON the Threshold
Bending slightly forward and listening
| attentively, be managed to catch the
| words:
Bet my money on the old bay mare,
Somebody bet on the gray.
The doggerel had only one meaning
to the deacon. 1t was a shameless de-
Tense Of horse racing, an unholy pas
time into which he had gained some in
sight through the innocent medium Of
country fairs.
"Mornin, William!' The greeting
was fresh and cheery-surely not spo-
ken with the languor that is supposed
to follow night of debauchery. "Guess
you kind of overslep'. Must be you an
mother kept late hoursv'
There's one way you might of know
ed how late hours mother an me kept"
The deacon's answer bristled with
harsh insinuation. but it was all lost
on the erring one. Whistling softly
to himself, he picked up the milk pals
again and started for the house, while
the deacon, mystifed and angered.
clambered up the perpendicular ladder
to the hayloft- He threw down a
generous quantity of sweet smelling
I