The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1901-07-11

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hungry men cast glances at the sun,
but the preacher, shouting in broken
| accents, appears not to have reached
the first milestone Of his text, and it is
evident that he started out with the
intention of going sabbath days
Journey" One young fellow places his
straw hat over his face and tries to
sleep, but some one tickles him with
spear of grass. An old man who has
stood it as long as he could in the
house and who has come out and lain
down gets up, stretches himself,
brushes a clinging leaf off his gray
Jeans trousers and declares: "a bite
to eat would hit me harder than a
sermon writ on a rock. Don't see WHY
man wants to talk all day.
Thought you was mighty fond of
preachin, Uncle John?" some one re-
marks
cam; but don't want man to 90
over an over what he has already dun
said. If my folks want in thar I'd
mosey off home an git suthin to eat.''
Good book says man don't live by
VI Cdu dAOAS, OuS1c JOllu
''Yas; but it don't say that he lives by
preachin alone, nuther. Hor on; they
are singin the doxology now, an reck-
on she will soon be busted.'
The plowboy goes home with his di-
vinity, Uncle Johns daughter "Reck-
on Jim will be at home?' he asks as
they ride along.
"He mout be. Air you awful anx-
ious to see him?''
Not so powerful. Jest lowed I'd
ask. I know who's yo sweetheart"
he says after a pause.
''Bet you DON'T
"Bet do"
"Who is it, then, Mr.. Smarty?"
''Aleck jones'
"Who, him? Think I'd have that
freckle faced thing?'
"Waal, if he amt, I know who isl
'Bet you couldn't think of his name
in hundred years."
''You mout think I can't, but I can"
"Waal, who, then, since you air 50
smart?'
''Morg Atcherson.''
ITO! L Wouldn't speak to him if I
was to meet him in the road
"But you'd speak to some people if
you was to meet them in the road.
wouldn't you?"
eyes, of course I would"
"Who would you speak to?'
ooh, lots of folks. Did you see that
bird almost hit me:" she suddenly ex-
claims.
Il reckon he lowed you was a flow
err"
ooh, he didn't, no such of a thing. You
ought to be ashamed of yo'se'f to make
fun of me that er-way'
Il Want maxim fun of you. Ho! If
was to ketch anybody maxim fun of
you it wouldn't be good for him.
'What would you do?''
''I'd whale him.
''You air awful brave, amt you?"
Never mind whut 1 am. I know
that if any man was to make fun of
you he'd have me to whup."
A number of people have stopped at
Uncle Johns house. They sit in the
large passageway running between the
two sections Of the log building, and
the men, who have not heard the SER
mon, discuss it with the women, who
We're compelled to hear it from hating
start to excited finish. The sun is
blazing out in the fields, and the June
bugs are buzzing in the yard. 1t is
indeed day of rest for the young and
old, but is it a restful time for the
housewife? Does that woman, with
flushed face, running from the kitchen
to the dining room and then to the
springhouse for the crock jar of milk,
appear to be resting? Do the young
men and women that are lolling in the
passage realize that they are making
a slave of her? Probably not, for she
assures them that it is not a bit of
trouble, yet when night comes-when
the company is gone-she sinks down,
almost afraid to wish that Sunday
might never come again, yet knowing
that it is the day Of her heavy bondage
Old labor has been soothed, and young
love has been encouraged, but her
trials and anxieties have been more
than doubled.
1t is night, and the boy sits in the
door, taking off his shoes. Tomorrow
he must go into the hot field, but he
does not think of that. His soul is, full
of a buoyant love-buoyant, for the
girl with the gaudy ribbon has prom
ised to be his wife.
A Bold Reporter.