Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1902-04-26
A Farmers Wife.

/1A would be married before any OF
the rest. But Marion only
laughed and said nonsense" Was she
not welded to her art? And did she
not scorn the masculine sex, individ-
ually. collectively and In the abstract?
What possible else could a girl with
ideals, with an object in life have for
a man? A life of dependence for her,
her world to be bounded by four
square walls? Never!
So she went on her way rejoicing,
young, beautiful and heart whole; re-
fused the men who were unfortunate
enough to love her. laughed in their
faces, not that she was cruel by ma
ture, but their ardor amused her-she
could not understand it.
When June came, and the girls talk
ed over their vacations, she astonished
them all by quietly remarking that she
guessed she would go down to Ray
mond.
What, that pokey old placer ex-
claimed Anna. What in the world
will you do there? -Four miles from
nowhere. Why, l wouldn't spend n
week in that tumbled-down old farm
house. And then it's so dismal that
pine grove is enough to give one the
shudders Oh, don't go there. Marion,
come with me-"
But Marion remained firm. To Ray.
mond she went The quaint, charming
little town Of Raymond, nesting at the
foot of the green hills close to the Dor
ders of the beautiful Sebago Lake,
and there she met her fate. 1t an
peared suddenly and Unexpectedly one
June morning, In the shape of a man,
overalls and a basket of setting hens.
Now If there was one thing more
than another Marion detested it was a
hen, and next to that farmer and far
above both she abominated overalls
She always associated them with the
street department.
But this glorious summer morning.
as she was wheeling down n steep hill,
taking the narrow path, and keeping
well to the side of the road to avoid the
mud, around a sharp bend she ran
bump into her fate-farmer. overalls.
setting hens, basket, wheel and girl,
all scattered and mingled in the dust.
She, woman-like, was the first to re-
cover her voice. Good gracious!
hope l haven't killed you" she gasped.
as she sat up and wiped splotch of
mud off her nose.
He picked himself up out of the de-
bris, surveyed the wreck about him.
the wheel standing on its handle bars
IN raspberry bush, the hens squawk-
Ing and fiuttering on the ground. the
girls sweet, flushed face beside him.
and then he threw his head back and
laughed-a deep, ringing laugh, that
hoated out ON the still morning air.
over the quiet waters of the lake and
took the girls heart with it. She loved
him from that moment. One swift.
furtive glance into that frank. hand
some face, and the girl knew by an
unerring instinct that he was a gen
tleman.
Killed me, oh no, just temporarily
foored me, that's all. l hope you are
not hurt"
Il am awfully sorry. really" Marion
began to hide her confusion. II beg Il
thousand pardons."
by this time he had gotten her wheel
right side up, and without another
glance, she mounted it and disappeared
around the bend.
That night at the supper table when
she recounted her adventure she learn
ed who he was. Harold Martin, a
young man who had lately taken the
Martin place" a beautiful farm two
miles from Raymond. After that she
often met him and the acquaintance
SO abruptly begun ripened into friend
ship.
1t was strange how the enchanting
allurements of art and life of indie
pendence faded into oblivion, how