The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1907-02-22
geleft Stnrp.
THE ELOPEMENT of MARYELLEk.
BY PERCY T. CARNES.

There was great excitement throughout
Chestnut Ridge neighborhood, when the
announcement was made that Joel Stokes
had sold his farm on the mountain and
, had bought another in Spring Valley, tc
which he would soon remove with his
family. The news was carried from house
to house, and in an incredibly short period
of time was the one topic of conversation,
} even among the dwellers of the remotest
cove.
The great majority of the mountain folk
} honored and respected Joel Stokes, despite
his frequent outbursts of temper. Was he
not the leading spirit, the wise counsellor,
the one dominant factor in all political, re-
ligious and educational interests of then
little world?
Was there another such woman, the
whole length and breadth of the mountain
as Mrs. Jane Stokes? One so tender, SO
motherly, so sympathetic? Never, as far
back as their memories ran, had there been
sorrow, or sickness, or death in house
) hold that she, like some commissioned
angel of mercy, had not been there to
soothe and comfort with kind words and
) gentle ministrations.
Pretty, willful "spoiled'' Mary Ellen,
aged nineteen, the only child Of the Stokes
) household, received her need of praise,
even from those who had predicted most
direful things for her. Since childhood,
she had been the object Of gossiping criti-
cism; her unrestrained gayety had been
frowned on by the pious matrons Of the
staid, ultra conservative neighborhood, and
her popularity with the young men had
made her an object of envious jealousy on
the part of the maidens of Chestnut Ridge
But now that she was about to be re-
moved from their midst, all could recall
much in her life that was worthy of praise
and emulation. Many mentally concurred
with the vigorously expressed opinion of
Bill Murphy, the postmaster and store
keeper, that Joel Stokes boy" as he
jocularly called Mary Ellen, would be
missed ''more'n airy other gal on the
Ridge
The day announced for the departure of
the Stokes family dawned clear and balmy
Long before the sun had peeped up over
Blue Mountain, which lowered above the
low lying hills some miles to the east, men,
" women and children were hurrying along
tootpaths and mountain roads towards the
Stokes homestead All must be there to
bid the family good-by and see them off.
Women left their beds unmade and their
dishes unwashed, men and boys left their
chores unperformed, and Bill Murphy left
the store to run itself; ''and eff anybody
wants their mail, they can go in and help
themselves - With the exception of
Granny Stages, the fortuneteller, and
Noah Willeford, Mary Ellen suitor, the
entire population of Chestnut Ridge was
there
After the many good-byes had been
said, Stokes waveo his long raw-hide whip
above the backs of his patient oxen and
gave the command to go. He was followed
by his wife and daughter in another wagon.
Mary Ellen was an expert horse woman,
and her father knew she could be trusted
with the spirited team of horses.
When the slow moving wagons had
passed from the view of the neighbors, who
still fingered in clusters about the yard,
Mary Ellen called to her father: ''Dad,
let mother ride with you; the horses is
eager to go faster. They need tonin' down
some before we start down the mounting,
so L drive on ahead to the creek and
visit with the Fleming girls till you come"
"Now, Mary Ellen,' cautioned her
father, after Mrs. Stokes had been trans
ferred from one wagon to the other, ''you
be shore to lock both hind wheels before
you start down the hill; do you hear p
eyes, I'll be keerful,' she called back
over her shoulder The thought that
somewhere up the road Noah Willeford
was awaiting her coming made her impa-
tient to be gone She gave free rein to
of her father and mother.
As the wagon rounded curve in the
road, a man stepped from his concealment
behind a giant chestnut tree, and sprang to
the place on the great roll of bedding, so
recently vacated by Mrs. Stokes.
''Noah!'
eyes, it is me, Mary Ellen. I didn t
know but maybe yore dad was in this
wagon, so | hid till seed it was just
you
Noah, air ye sorry to see us leave p
Sorry Course I'm sorry. l know
your daddy hates me like pizen, but I hate
to see him CO. I'm sorrier still to see
yore mother go. AS fur you, Mary Ellen,
I'd ruther lose my eye-teeth an the best
coon dog I've got than see you leave this
mounting p
Tears came into the girls eyes as she
said "T d most rather die than 60 ~
Grasping the girls hand and pressing
it TO his lips, a most unusual thing among
the undemonstrative mountaineers, Willie.
ford exclaimed passionately: II caint ask
you to marry me now, Mary Ellen, but I
won't be long in comm fur you. caint
do without you much longer. You won t
forgit me, when yo git down amongst them
fine folks in the valley, will you, Mary
Ellen?'
"I'll never furgit you, ner fursake you,
Noah, so help me Godr'
"Amen!' fervently calculated Willie
ford. "Now listen: Yore daddy knows
L m honest an sober an industrious; but
he ain t got no use fur me because I trade,
'peddle, he calls it. [ can make money
tradin' sugar, coffee, soap an calico fur
butter, eggs an varmint skins, than can
make farmin' that sassafrack land my daddy
left me, that's why 1 trade. I'll soon
have enough money saved up to put us up
a good house, then I'm comm fur you.
I'll ak yore dad fur you, fair an square;
if he won't give you to me, I'll take yo
anyhowr'
81 hate to go agin daddy S will; but I'll
90 when you come fur me, Noah.