The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1905-06-29
Mezekiab furrifeatber's Uefture.

"Yes, wooden horses. Jest think of
a grown man wastin' his time maxim
wooden horses! It's the worst I've
heard tell on in month of Sundays.
"But maybe they are intended for
something" said poor Sadie, hardly
knowing what to say in behalf of her
errant lover.
"Course they be-" said the deacon.
"'Tended to play with. Eff he amt the
biggest baby ever lived, want to
know! Wooden horses! Ha, hal"
Sadie bore up wonderfully before
her father; but by and by she had her
little cry in solitude. Was he after all
only "big baby?" But no, she would
not believe it. She would wait and
see.
In the meantime "Zeke" hammered
away in high spirits, unconscious of
what took place at the home of his
sweetheart. He worked a good many
weeks in that old shed, and kept the
secret of his object to himself.
Had the old deacon been in the vi
cinity of the shed on a certain night
some weeks later he would have seen
something to marvel about indeed.
Three large wagons, each drawn by
four horses, backed up to- the building
and were loaded, one by one. y Not
alone were the wooden horses, which
had caused Deacon Fordham so much
amusement, loaded into the vans, but
also great number of other peculiar
looking objects. The half dozen men
employed in the task did their work
in silence. When the last wagon had
been loaded to its utmost capacity the
great canvas-covered vans moved off
into the night as silently as they came.
The next day Zeke called at the
Fordham home, dressed in his best.
Sadie welcomed him as only loving
girl can welcome the man of her choice.
They chatted gaily together, but when
asked about his doings in the old rail-
road shed, he maintained mysterious
silence. After tearing himself away
from his sweetheart, Zeke called on the
deacon, and told him in his straight.
forward way that he should like to
marry Sadie.
"Not by long shotp said the irras.
chile deacon. "I don't calculate to
give my Sadie to a feller thet couldn't
keep her in vittels an calico. Ye are
big 'nough an strong 'nough, Zeke
but ye are just nachurally the --LATEST
feller thet ever lived. 1 hain't got eny
thin agin ye but thet."
"But sposin', Mr.. Fordham, that
am capable of earnin' a livin' for my
self an a wife, would you leave mt
have herY asked Zeke.
"Wal," said the deacon, reflectivel!
stroking his copper-colored vandyke
81 might. See here, Zeke, eff ye Cal
show me five hundred dollars the
ye've earned yerself-money thet ye
; OF man might give ye won't count
, it's got to be made by yerself, Zeke
, why might let ye have her."
agreed" said Zeke.
FL That same day Hezekiah Furrlfeath
} er disappeared from his home towr
"He's up to some way of trickin' me,
. thought the old deacon. Then ru
: NOR came from the neighborlng town
( of man running merry-go-roun
| who was "just coinin' money!" in th
E vernacular of country folks. It wa
' the biggest and finest merry-go-roun
: that had ever been seen, they .sait
f Those who had gone to cattle show
8 and fairs in the nearby villages an
: had ridden on it declared it to be
Q little the finest ever. They began t
a wish it would come to their own tow
And they had their wish.
: One morning Dapplby woke up an
found large tent on the fair lot.
o was the merry-go-round; and thu
s evening the good folks rode themselvt
!. almost dizzy. It was not only tt
young folks who rode on those VOL
r derful horses with gilded names, bl
the older people were taken with
: passion for merry making.
"The Teller who owns it has got
) goldmine," said Deacon Fordham. "Bl
who is he2 It amt thet little red-hea'
l. ed chap takin' the fares; nor the fell
lrunnin' the engine. I wonder whe1