Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1904-07-20

! was rip-you-up- the-back, pay-up-or-
git-out sort of u sermon, wasn't 1t!
You m Mr. HiIlyer d better pass
around yore bad accounts tomorrow,
an maybe you'll git the benefit OF it.
seed old Peter Cashel duckin' his
head time or two"
George smiled because she did, more
than at what she was saying. for the
! Cranstons were passing The major
and his wife bowed with their usual
cold dignity, but Lydia gave him one
of her sweetest smiles. DO you feel
/ hit?" she laughed, referring to the
/ preachers talk.
I Not exactly" he replied, coloring in
I spite of himself but it was strong,
wasn't it?"
"You bet he wasn't hit Miss Lydia"
| spoke up Mrs. Hillyer. "Ef everybody
paid Their debts like this young man
to say nothin' of the debts of other
folks Brother Mayhem d be out o
some'n' to preach about"
ooh, | know that, Mrs. Hillyer,s
Lydia said, with laugh, and she went
on to her father who was looking back
and frowning impatiently.
Outside the church, George and Mrs.
Hillyer walked homeward together.
She was in laxative mood, as usual.
ut amt any O my business, George
Buckley" she said but when 1t comes
to KNOWN how to treat women folks
you take the rag off the bush. was
tickled back thar. You treated that
gal jest right-jest right, to gnat's
heel"
"Why. what do you mean, Mrs. Hill
yer?" asked George, quite at sea as to
her meaning.
"Well. eff you don't know what /
mean let it alone I've often wondered
what makes the women take to you so,
an I've about concluded it's beca'se
they cayn't run over you rough shod.
My Lord. George Buckley, this is the
rust time I ever seed you two togeth-
er, an acknowledge I'd heard so drat-
ted much about the high standin' O
the Cranstons that l almost lowed
you was n plumb fool to be goin' thar,
but-well, may never know when a
hen will take notion to set, but eft
you keep on actin with Lydia Gran
ston like you ds1 back thar In meetin'
you kin simply wrap her around yore
little finger She may hold out long
time, but she'll throw up the sponge In
the end. All the kings bosses cayn't
pull woman away from a man she
respects an is sorry fer at the same
time, an eft I'm any judse-but l reck-
on talk too much"
"Oh, Mrs. Hillyer, you are surely
You know" the little woman ran
on. II was a-settin' jest two benches
behind Fem, an when you come In
seed 'er switch 'er head a little to one
side an see you, an then she looked
straight in front of Ter jest as eff moth
in had happened. But some'n' had
happened to her face, fer I seed it
change. A woman kin fool man as
easy as blindin' chicken on the roost
with torch, but she cayn't fool an
other woman. That's why they hate
one another like snakes. Thar she
comes now!''
The Cranston carriage was passing.
It was an old fashioned victoria, driv-
en- by sleek looking negro on the
front seat The occupants did not turn
their heads.
II wonder how they got on to thatT'
asked Mrs Hillyer, with Singer.
"On to what?" Buckley asked
why, on to that way o. settin' like
they had boards under Their clothes
again Their backs. I'd rather do a
days washin' AN to go a mile that
Away. / always want to Toll back
when I'm ridin that's what rid +
in's fer, I always lowed - but them
three an the niger look like so many
bean poles"
George laughed heartily. She had the
knack OF making people cheerful, and
since his recent trouble she had done
much to relieve his gloom: and, be-
sides, had she not encouraged him to
hope that But his heaft sank under
these reflections. Lydia Cranston, for
many reasons was out Of the question,
and be was mad to allow his hopes to
be stirred
"Of course" Mrs. Hillyer went on,
as II reading his mind, thar amt no
use blindin' ourselves to the truth.
Them Cranstons hain't yore sort nnr
mine, an body ought to use ordi-
nary sense In sech matters, but all the
ancestry an family trees an blue
blood royal on earth cayn't keep a
woman's heart from foppin' jest the
way 1t wants to flop. sorter like Lyd-
la Cranston. She could brag on 'er an
tecedents, but she don't. She knows
she's some pumpkins an amt a-worry-
In. Bein' afeard you hain't as good
as other folks Is the biggest drawback
on earth. Thar's one o yore best cards,
George. You always hold yore head
up. Sometimes / think it'll have
crown o. some sort on It before you
die You've got nerve, an plenty of
it, though did think you was a-goin'
to flicker under yore burden last week,
but yore eye an skin Is clear as ever
today. You've set me a good example.
Some time you may know all I've suf-
fered while keepin'. up my eternal
laugh an chatter.
'srhars Mrs Dugan bending over
the fence by the red fag'-they We're
nearing home. She's tryin' her best
o ketch somebody passln' from church {
n, ,ao ~, a bif ~ news I've bper fool |