Middletown transcript., 1906-03-10


quarterly next Sunday. The
girl, who had just come from
grove meeting, stood twisting her
sunbonnet strings in her fingers,
the picture of bashful misery.
Well, and eff he hain't, / reckon
] shall live and keep afoot jest
the same, retorted her small,
wiry mother with asperity.
But if he don't preach-if he
don't preach at Brush Arbor,
why, you know ] can't-we cant
Words failed her.
We can't hear him. That's
the truth, eff you did git to hit by
windis;ways, and the old woman
Rh1ckled grimly.
There was a rush of tears in
the sweet blue eyes, and the girls
tone was tremulous as she ex-
planned; You know mighty well
and good, nanny, that Mark
and me was to be we'd Sunday
after preaching.
Swift war famed in the old
woman,s eyes, and the girl made
haste to add: You said we might,
yourself, nanny. And what |
come to ask you was this: The
elder he's goin' to ride past
here on his way to the Fur Cove
can he-w'y can't he stop
stop and marry us here at the
house?
The little old woman rose with
a snort. 1t was plain, when one
saw her afoot and angry, what a
beautiful little vixen she had
been in her youth. Have you
asked the elder? she inquired.
The girl nodded. Nanny, you
know / had to-he won't be back
for two months.
Have you asked Mark ?the cat
echism proceeded, Oh-he asked
you, did he? Well, i swanny
T don't see what boys and gals is
comm to-I reckon you've bid
den the guests, likewise
A guilty deepening Of the red
on Ozelma's cheek proved that
this guess was correct one. In
the mountains gatherings are SO
rare that failure to catch this
opportunity would have meant
waiting till the elders return.
You wasn't there, nanny, an
we couldn't wait TO get word to
you. The elder, he'd have rid
over by Buck Gap Road, if Mark
hadn't asked him.. An Mark said
we thought-w'y, we thought
you wouldn't care.
Not care 7? Ozelma knew bet
ter she knew her mother. 1t
was against this knowledge that
she had been pursuaded by her
lover.
Huh CALCULATED Aunt Prindy.
Well, l never Folks bid to the
weddin of my own gal, and the
preacher bespoke-and me told
last of all / vow / wonder at
you-been alvin with me all
these years, and don't know no
better than to believe that you
can treat me like the dirt under
your feet and come out ahead. |
warn you there won't be no we'd
din here this day.
But, nanny, we couldn't git
to you, and them folks what I've
bid, they'll all come; and I'll jest
be so ashamed | won't know how
to face 'em-have to tell 'em that
my nav says sha'n't wed.
Aunt Prindy's black eyes took
in her daughters costume the
girl wore that frock of Lonsdale
cambria which she had been con-
structing patiently for months.
It's strips of bias tucking, its
small, auted rnffes, swan before
the mothers enraged vision.
Dressed and ready, hain't you?
she sneered. Here-you Ros |!
You, Roswell Teeters
The sorrel nag was peacefully
cropping grass among the lilac
bushes. Aunt Prindy caught a
bride from its twig on the peeled
log supports OF the porch, took
hold of the bare shank of ten
year-old boy who responded to
her last hail, tossed him up on
the critters back, jerked the bit
into it's mouth and curtly gave
him orders to warn leach and
every" that there would be no
wedding at the Teeters home
stead that day.
AS she turned to the porch and
the nag made its cumbrous way
out the front gate, the bride that
was to have been looked on with
frightened eyes.
You better go tell Ros jest who
In warn. the old woman cOunSeled