The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1906-01-03
THE EVENING STORY
ON THE FENCE.
(By Donald Allen.)

/ young folk had known each OIher as
| children. The parents approved the
engagement and the deacon went as
far as to take his son by the hand
and say:
my son, she is fine girl, and you
viii make no mistake in marrying her.
I shall feel toward her as my own
| daughter"
The engagement was announced and
the wedding day set Everything went
well until the deacon's brother out in
| Wisconsin died and left him a legacy
of $4,000 in cash. The deacon, who
| had lived without any of the Inquiries
| of life, was stunned for a time by the
| size OF the legacy. He felt that it
made him one of the millionalres Of
earth. The money would have made
| some little difference to any man, no
matter how level-headed.
We are on a different plane now,
| he said to his old wife, land we must
/ conform to the new circumstances
| You won't wear calico any more and
shall have a hired girl, and I shall do
no more work except boss the hired
man."
land what about Burt?' was asked.
He must go to collegs and become
a lawyer or doctor"
But he and Eunice are to be mar
ried, you know, and I don't believe
he'll want to put it off,
Look here, ma said the deacon af-
ter thinking for awhile, I'VE cant let
Burt throw himself away on no such
girl. 1t might have done passably
we'll when we were poor, but now we
can buy out the whole county and
have money left; he can't afford to tie
himself to any such wife. To begin
with. she don't look aristocratic.'
But do we?"
"Of course we do. Any one would
know to look at US that we had blood
and money. In the second, place, she
has no style about her"
And have we got?"
Heaps of it. In the third place.
she hain't got no eddication."
But you'n me never went to any
thing better'n district school! pro-
tested the wife while Eunice attended
a seminary for two whole years
thought she knew more'n all of US put
3'But she don't. At the seminary she
! jest chawed gum and played the
pianer. We hain't been braggin'
around any, because that amt the way
! of the Adamses, but we've got eddi-
cation huff to pass in any crowd
| When 1 talked with the governor at
the county fair two years ago I felt
perfectly to home. must have talk
I don't believe he will give her up.
| You know how obstinate he is about
some things. If Bunice would give
by thunder!" interrupted the dea-
con as he brought his fist down on the
kitchen table with a bang.
What is it?''
We got an 1QGds Ild--DlE VI Tie
brightest ideas ever had Keep mum.
/ Don't say a word. I'll tell you all
about it tomorrer or next day. Don
say a single word to Burt, and don't
go around lookin' as if you had some
thin on your mind
thin desperate?" stammered the wife.
"Of course not. I'm simply goin
to work out my idea, and when 1 get
ready to tell you you'll say [ am
about as sharp as they make 'em.
IS-s-s-hi Keep NUM-
The above conversation took place
/ one evening, and at o'clock the
next morning the deacon was knock
/ ing at the door of Widow Taylor's
| farmhouse. Eunice had driven to the
village to do some trading and the
fat and motherly widow was just fin
ishing up the last of her morning
work.
why, Deacon, is this you2" she
asked. as she answered the knock
and held out her hand. Il hope none
of the folks are sick?"
mo. the folks are all we'll"
None of the COWS ailing?"
Nope"
for that Won't you come in and
mo. / guess not The fact is. Wild
der, I've come over to say somethin'
'sWeH, say on"
IT'S about Burt and Eunice. You
know 1 am rich now? Got fourteen
thousand dollars in cold cash
f-o-u-r-t-e-e-n thousand dollars. I'm
the richest man in Plum county
'fWell?'
wall. I want to say that I want
Burt tc go to college and become
great lawyer or doctor. [ don't want
want him to marry for three or four
years yet, and when he does I'd like
the woman to be-to be-
ITO be somebody better than Eu-
III, f11ic
the deacon hung fire.
s'I hain't sayin' that exactly. but
you know that the eagle and the crow
can't mate"
that what you came to say?"
Eyes, that's about all"
''Then you have finished and can
go. Good morning. Deacon Adams"
| The widow turned away, and there
was nothing for the deacon to do but
go. He had got off better than he
| hoped for. He had expected to nave
a row and he was elated that the
/ cooIly. In coming he had come by
the highway, but in returning he de-
| cided to take a short cut across the
fields To do this he must climb the
fence of the Widows barnyard, and
when he reached the top rail he sat
for a moment to look around, When
he started to get down, he found him
self hanging head downward. He
couldn't lift himself up, and the silver
wouldn't give way to his wriggIes, and
there was nothing to do but call out.
He called Justify, and in about five
minutes the widow appeared.
SIS there something you forgot to
say?" she asked, as she came up.
"You see I'm caught on the fence
he replied.
ooh, that's It? It's singular what
things happen to rich men. If any
one had told me that man worth
lf-o-u-r-t-e-e-n thousand dollars could
be caught by a silver on an old rail
fence, I should have said it was i'm
possible. Are you enjoying the novelty
of the situation? 2"
Say. widder. I've got to ask you
to help me out of this scrape. The