The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1904-07-13

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burn down."
The three sisters, who lived in an
adjoining township, having married
well-to-do farmers in that locality,
had met by appointment at the old
homestead to lay the ultimatum which
had been decided upon before their
mother. Though little selfish, they
were not really heartless, and no
doubt believed the change was nee
essary measure Their husbands could
very well have afforded to keep the
interest on the mortgage paid up dur
ing the widows lifetime, but as they
said, the expense would eat up the
value of the farm and be of no especial
benefit to themselves. So it was de-
cided to let the mortgage be fore
closed.
Seems to me nav is agin' awful
fast" remarked Elnira, as the sisters
took their departure in the hired con-
veyance which had brought them to
the farm.
mot much wonder, SEEM paw was
sick SO long, an her Twin all alone
here since he died." assented Alkaline.
Il wanted her to come an live with
me, but she wouldn't hear to reason.
Nav is powerful sot in her way, pears
like"
Margie Filbert was very glad to keep
her aunt company during the remain
ing weeks of her stay at the farm, and
proved a great comfort to the lonely
woman.
TOO bad the kitchen chimley
smokes so," she declared on the sec
ond day of her stay. 'If you don't
mind, Aunt Clary, I'll git Dave Tall
man to come over an see what's the
matter o. it. Must be filled up with
swallerss nests, l reckon"
Mrs. Coppage looked up from her
knitting. ITO be sure, Margie! I'd
be real glad if he'd come. An mebbe
he'll nail the clapboards on the ruff,
too. The wind a-soughin' through
makes buddy feel real creepy!
hain't been up to the loft bedroom fur
dunno the time when, jest on ac-
count O. it,
Them loose clapboards does make
curtis hummin' sound" admitted
Margie. 1--WE noticed it myself. But
reckon Dave kin suttle 'em."
Dear, dear" sighed the widow,
while her knitting-needles clicked an
accompaniment to the solioquy, "1'm
afeared it'll be good while fore Dave
an Margie kin marry. Dave is real
stiddy, an industrious, too, but farm
hands is as plenty as blackberries, an
has to take what they kin git. If
'twasn't fur that NOR gidge, now, him
an Margie could marry an live here,
an l wouldn't hey to go trapesin'
round, alvin here an there, with
Ad'line an Elmiry an Becky. A nice
time I'll hev, with all them kids, too.
Six or seven apiece they've got all
round, an the wust-behaved young
uns l ever see, If they air my own
gran childern!"
The brown old farmhouse, embow-
cred in black locust trees, its quaint
gabled porches overrun with hop
vines and coral honeysuckles, took or
an added picturesqueness in the hazy
autumn sunshine. The widows one
COW was licking her calf across the
alf-broken-down rail fence, and the
striped quails were calling "Bot
White! Bob White!" from the neigh
boring corn fields. At the red barr
hens were cacllling and guinea fowl.
chattering as if they We're having {
contest as to which could make tn,
most noise.
Mrs. Coppage, her face we'll shaded
by black sunbonnet, was gatherin:
round pippins in the nearby orchard
with view to having apple dumping,
for dinner.
Dave Tallman had already arrived
and had climbed rickety ladder Il
investigate the smoky chimney.
The widows meditations, whicl
were none of the brightest, we ma
be sure, were suddenly interrupre,
by a piercing Shrek from Margie, an
dropping her pippins, she flew to tn
house.
"is Dave killed." she gasped, on dis
covering the young man reclining
Imply on the porch, while Margie how
cred over him with the camphor bottl
in her hand. II was afeared that lad
der would break!''
Dave grinned sheepishly. "No, Mis-
Coppage, the ladder didn't break h
announced, as he tenderly chafed hi
ankle-bone. IL got bee-stung, an
dropped to the ground" he added, il
answer to the widows puzzled look.
Mrs. Coppage stared first at Dav
and then at Margie in bewilderment
"Bee-stung?" she repeated, incredu
lousy.
yes, NON. There's swarm O. bee
has made a hive O. your chimley, Mis-
Coppage. The hull inside o. the ruff i
lined with honeycomb, too-chock-ful
o. honey! It's fact, an no mistake
Put away the camfre, Margie, m
ankle is all right again. 'Twasn'
nothing but bruise, an you an Mis-
Coppage come an take a peek flu
yourselves
The two women climbed gingerly VI
the ladder, one at a time, and discoy