Middletown transcript., 1902-10-11
and aroidad ON Main Street.

|
managed to gasp, then with muttered
something about a call on Division Street,
for the third time within an hour had
hidden Luther hasty farewell, quite
forgetful of poor little Tommy.
Are you going my way, to Jackson's
place, Deacon?'
He hated that appellation, and the one,
too. who uttered it just then, but for |
Mary's sake assented and walked on
quietly at the seamstress's side.
"Mary Lizzie has so much electioneer-
ing to do, nowadays, she's like pea on |
hot griddle. / presume likely she'll get
lots Of votes, she's so sot i'll her ways. |
She's like her poor Subsequently, man
ages to get what she sets out to. lsn'tt
wonderful how a man and wife grow to
be as like as peas in a pod?" she adced
vindictively.
But the laconic replies of always polite
and ever genial Luther made Phoebe say
to herself, "Deacon's dretful short to-
day."
Atalanta could not have moved with
swifter feet than Mary Shene toward her
own special sanctum sanctorum. III
door locked against any would-be Ph@tes
a half hour was given to the first blissful
CLEAN of happiness she had known for ten
long years, while tthird masculine" OF the
hackneyed verb ITO love" surged through
her brain in all its moods and lenses save
the potential. HE loves me" she
whispered, "he has loved me, " "has been
loving me-" while the joyous, hopeful
promise of "if he loves me" came "like
the benediction after prayer"
Luther and Mary, both only children
had been playmates from babyhood. re.
ciprocating as years went by in pent-up
brotherly and sisterly love, till day came
when, unknown to each other, the scales
fell from their eyes and showed an affec-
ton stronger and deeper. But Luther
was ploddingly and hopefully climbing
the hill Of success, and ere he could con-
scientiously speak and know his fate, it
was too late.
A mothers opportunities, fathers
debts, and baleful memory, tale subse-
quently found to have emanated from
Phoebe Jones, and told by Silas Skene
when urging his suit, that Luther was
plighted to non-existent cousin in New
York, had turned the balance. As MEM
ory after memory acted its part in Mary's
retrospection, she could but say to hen
self with a sigh, "At least l did my duty
to all three-mother, father and Silas!'
/ But she was a woman of action, and the
Apple of Hesperides having been thrown
| into her lap, was no excuse for idleness.
Too long had she been in Silas Skene's
school to indulge in lengthy day dreams.
Woman suffrage having been attained
by hard climbing, her theory and belief
was noblesse oblige.
The black bombazine was purchased
and presented. The old lady consented
to register, rewarded by several long,
pleasurable drives through country "high-
ways and byways," though it could not
be said that the transaction was without
compunctions on both sides.
As Phoebe had prophesied Mary Lizzie
had lots of electioneering on hand, and
though indulgiDg in no further briberies
was successful beyond her most sanguine
hopes, and Thomas fuckers political al
lies doubled and -quadrupled stakes in
reckless surety.
Once only did she see Luther during
the few days prior to election. She had q
kind-hearted fashion of stopping with
the carry-all ITO pick up' Mrs. Potter
and several of the older and feebler par
ishioners, en- route to meeting. After
Sunday morning church she was sur
prised but pleased to see Luther being
around from the hitching post, carefully
help and tuck in her ancient human
freight, and give her the reins with
hand pressure aud look which verified
his prerogative and set her heart nee
more aflutter.
If she wondered why he had not called,
: thought of Jackson's Lane would have
siIenced doubts, but in truth so preoccu-
pied was her mind that probably she
never wondered at all.
Also, the fact that he, too, might be
: electioneering, never dawned upon her
, busy brain. Was it woman's inconse-
quence, fate, or because every moment
had been so full that she had not troub-
led herself as to name and character of
the man who had taken the place of de-
funct Samuel James2
Election eve brought violent thunder
storm, and during its heaviest downpour
dripping small boy, bearing package
and letter, rushed through Mary Skene's
kitchen door as though hurled by the
! last thunder-clap.
/. "Miss Potter sent yer that"
"What is it?' asked Mrs. Skene.
II dunno"
Never mind. Get dry by the kitchen
fire and Nancy will get you something to
, eat, while. / read the letter"
Just few lines in trembling, feeble
hand:
"DEAR MARY LIZZIE: Here's the bonn
!, bazine. I can't go to the polls with you
!. to vote arter all, fer ef did, would surely
hey to vote for Luther Weaver, who's
the best man of the two for School Com
missioner, even ef he isn't Democrat.
NV minds BEN all stirred up since /
heard that Thomas Tucker beat his
mother onc't. bad.
i Yours trooly,
ANGELINA POTTER"
Gwen ef he isn't Democrat"
old lady, this was her balm for Mary's
possibly wounded feelings.
: With benumhed apathy Mary Skene
sat dazed and dumb far into the night.
Had she been blind? Was it because she
was only a woman? No, she had surely
shown what a woman could dol But
suppose Luther should be defeated and
Tucker, whom she did not know and for
whom she had worked on party principle
alone, elected? A man who could put
hands of violence on his mother-shame!
Why. oh, why had she been go wretch
edly blindl
Election day dawned in cold, heavy
rain-storm, and though the country roads
were almost impossible, the polls were
thronged, probably on account Of the
novelty Of the occasion. But more than
, two dozen women waited in vain for
s'Widow Skene" to keep her promise and
drive them through the November mud
to cast their first votes.
A few "hot in the cause" donned rub
! ber boots and cloaks and footed it. Some
! were more relieved than otherwise, while