Williston graphic. (Williston, Williams County, N.D.) 1895-1919, 1902-01-30
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): love AND
!: CHICKENS
~ FRANK II. SWEET.
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Copyright. 1901. By Authors Syndicate,)

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Copyright. 1901. By Authors syndicats3
M ICROBE was all the name he had
lvl known, and Deacon White-in
spite of an unsavory reputation for
sharp dealing-sold his chickens and
truck in the city on commission. For
this reason, Microbe still wore old
clothes, although he was shrewd,
Woodworking young man. But Dea-
con White had a daughter, Cassia.
One Sunday morning Microbe called
at the White cabin, as usual. The
deacon himself came to the door, but
looked his visitor over in marked dis
approval.
"Why ain yo' hustle roun' an buy
better clos, Microbe?" he demanded,
grufay. ''Yo' ain fifteen to show yo'se'f
on Sunday, specially at chu'ch ossi-
fer's house."
"Money too scarce TO- clos jes' now,
Deacon Microbe responded, cheerily.
"But whar's Cassia? Is come to see
her"
Il spec yo' fin her roun' on de back
po'ch, peelin' taters TO- supper" he
answered, discontentedly. 'Yo' kin
60 frou de cabin, or roun' de cabin, jes'
as yo' lax. But say" as Microbe was
half way across the floor; show bout
dem hun erd chickens yo' low is ready
to sell? Is dey coop up?"
mo, but kin coop dem tonight"
81 reckon yo' better. Hits time to
sell now; rs be roun' in de mawnin' wild
my big Vaughn. Mist Williams an
Mist Buckler dey's got heap, an Is
gwine take all togedder."
Cassia was bending industriously
over her pan of potatoes when Microbe
stepped upon the porch, closing the
door carefully behind him. Evidently
she had heard his voice, for she looked
up roguishly, with an odd sparkle in
her eyes.
"Howdy, Cassia. Is come to talk
bout what 1 tole yo' las Sunday. Yo'
member"
II 'spect yo's too young to know
bout lub, Microbe," she interrupted,
demurely. "Yo's muffin but a boy, lax
daddy say"
"Ts ole as you,' Cassia."
"Dat ain count. Boys ain grow lax
gals. Dey ain so SMART"
81 reckon yo's right bout de smart
nes," he agreed; "but not bout de lub.
been lub yo' mighty long time, Cassia.
Yo' know dat, only yo' ain tell"
"Yaas, boy Tub, in ole clos" care
lessly. II ain nebber see yo' fix up in
all my life, Microbe. Yo's mighty
nice boy, an lax yo' better dataway
dan airy udder boy roun'. But de man
I marry's gwine hab handsome clos so
I aim feel feel 'shamed when we go to
chu'ch an udder places"
"I's gwine hab plenty nice things,
Cassia," eagerly. "When we's married,
Is gwine be de bes' man in de cake
walk. Yo'll see. I been let yo' daddy
hab my truck so fur, kase-kase-yo'
know. So ain git ahead"
She gave him quick look, letting
her gaze drop instantly.
Den yo' ain fitten to be married."
she flashed. "When folks count to be
married dey ought to fix dere truck o
git ahead"
"I's gwine do dat right off," Microbe
declared, sturdily. 81 ain low things
go dataway kase I didn' know better.
No, sab! I gwine begin to git ahead
wild de sun to-morrer mawnin'. Any
ting else, Cassia?"
She did not lift her eyes this time,
but her voice was steady.
''No gal ain gwine marry man wild
q sickness name," she declared. 81
been 'quire bout yo' name," she went
on, ''an' folks say hits muffin but jes'
q sickness name, all kim OBJ ketchin'
things lax measles an yaller jack an
distemper an'-an' eberyt'ing dat's
bad. No gal aim marry dem t'ings."
"Well, den, if hits dataway, tain
gwine be my name no mo-, honey. My
nanny glib hit kase OBJ name she
heah a doctor tell, an 'spects she
done got mistook. is gwine 'quire
bout hit, an if hits lax yo' say, den
rs gwine git anudder name dat'll be
mighty fine an nice. Anything else?'
"Yaas; I ain gwine marry no man
'cep' my daddy say so. Is de on'y gal
he hab." She raised her eyes with an
unmistakable flash of archness and tri-
umph. "S'pose yo' gwine git Deacon
Wife to say yaas to Microbe-which
aim his name-who ain got fur 'nough
ahead in TO- yeahs to buy clos fifteen
TO- Sunday
''Co'se is" sturdily. 81 been Tub yo'
mighty long time, Cassia, an mighty
hard; an when a man lub dataway, he
gwine do anything. Aim dar mo- yo'
lax me do?''
mo, OATS all, Microbe," she said
frankly. "Yo' jes' git ahead, an hab a
name dat ain no sickness to hit, an
conjur' my daddy to say he ain car
If yo' marry me, den I say yaas-kase
fore yo' git all dat done yo' gwine be
q mighty push-ahead man." and with a
sudden ripple of laughter she caught
up the pan of potatoes and disap.
peared within the cabin.
When Microbe had reached home the
chickens had gone to roost, but it was
still light enough to distinguish them
and the marketing coops which were
piled handy for use. He looked from
one to the other doubtfully, for he
must begin at once to ''git ahead" and
at the same time be careful not to an
tagonize the deacon. But when the
deacon's heavy wagon rumbled out to
his cabin the next morning, the chick
ems were all ready, and he helped to
load them as usual.
Els gwine git all I kin TO- dem," the
deacon called, after the last coop was