Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1902-01-01

~ lutlOu lull VI sudIp uutuSu'
2 nisms, social, political and re-
ligieus. Notwithstanding, there was
one local institution about which there
was only n mind. The, Gallia City
Baseball club, the apple of the munic-
ipal eye, was felt to be set for the city's
defense against the world In general
and the nine from Centerport In par
ticular.
Centerport, q few miles down the
river, was a high headed little town
given to vaunting itself unseemly and
challenging other towns to come out
and meet their doom. Worse than that.
Centerport had in hand a large stock
of doom and was liberal in applying It
over the diamond. The mutual scorn
Of Centerport and Gallia City had
something tragic in It's intensity. To
beat Centerport was the summit Of
Gallian achievement; Centerport lived
only to repeat its victories over the
hated foe. In both business Of all sorts
was transacted as a sort of adjunct to
the larger mission in life.
Brent HARDWOOD came to Gallia City
to supply Dickson's pulpit while Dick
son, poor man, was away in hospital.
Dickson was the Presbyterian minis
ter. HARDWOOD was to live In the va
cant parsonage and take his meals over
with the Potters. Dickson had ar
ranged all that. Harwood hoped he
had arranged also for some one to meet
him, but when he stepped on the boat
from Cincinnati early one Saturday
morning and looked about he found
none to welcome him.
When the dock had been deserted by
all but roustabouts and chronic loung-
ers. Harwood made up his mind that
there was some hitch-his letter Of an
nouncement had possibly miscarried-
so he walked up to an old river man in
the f~reighthouse and said:
II believe l am to board with q fam
lily here named Potter. Do you know
Of any such peopleY
"Know 'em! Why, sonny, they amt
man, ner child-doggone 1t,
even Ell ornerey yaller purp ner scase-
" er lea on that purp1livin' in these
here parts that / don't knowl You bet
I know 'em-hul family, includin' the
cat-ole chap, with b'iles on his nose:
nice ole gal fer his missus, son, the gol-
alfernalest cuss In seventeen states ter
sell planners an Origins, an the sons
wife, Annie. who Is Jest er great big
hunk o the salt O. the earth. Say,
what dye want with 'em7 Be ye one
o. them drummer chaps tryin' ter sell
Pot some more goods"
HARDWOOD shook his head. 1--WE come
to spend the summer here" he said.
81 shall take my meals with the Pot
ters and live at the parsonage"
why, it's shet up! Dickson's gone
ter New York ter have some big doctor
cut him open an right him up inside"
the river man said.
II did hear thar was a-say, young
fellow, you ain't the new preacher
that's comin'Y'
II am going to try and preach" Har-
wood said modestly. "My name is
HARDWOOD
Brother HARDWOOD" faltered the riv-
er man. femme beg your pardon the
durndest worst way. I had no idee-4
you don't look like q parson, you don't
dress like q parson, you didn't let on
ron wus a parson-how in tunkft was q
fellow to know? I hope you'll fergit !
called you sonny. II you will. by grab,
you can lick me IL I don't come to
church-not next Sunday, but some
time before you go"
'That's q bargain" HARDWOOD said,
shaking hands before he made his way
to breakfast at the hotel.
Upon his second Monday morning in
Gallia City Harwood strolled down to
Stevenson Potter,s music store. Ste