Tazewell Republican. [volume] (Tazewell, Va.) 1892-1919, 1909-01-21
The Deacon's
Quandary
Copyright, by Ford Pub. Coz
By ALEX BRUCE

II was Monday morning in Ma
than's avenue Birds were twit-
tering; young leaves softening and
Glistening on every tree; grass green
ing on every lawn. And already the
tenants of Nathan's row. long. low
pressed-brick, Queen Ann in front and
Mary Ann behind, seemed to have
felt and welcomed these harbingers
of balmy spring.
On the steep, downward grade of
life's journey, clean-shaven, scared
and wien, yet with a countenance
open and readable as a chiId's Bible.
Josiah Carberry leaned heavily against
the paint-blistered fence that bounded
his bachelor domains chatting with
the Widow Bonner.
FOR more than a year now, for the
deacon's heart and home the two
widows who lived side by side had
been rivals. At first, Nathan's row
had predicted Mrs. Bonner. Then
Mrs. Marthy was the favorite Again.
it was Mrs. Bonner; again, Mrs. Mar
thy. Then, bahl With a man like
Deacon Carberry who could tell. For
through II all the deacon had been
non-committaL He dispensed his
favors with cautious hand, and drew
a tight rein on his zeal His conduct
had been exemplary all agreed save
one. his short-haired, ill-favored house
keeper. who shuddered at dependence
In a grumbling brothers home. But
TO the gossips of Nathan's row that
was neither here nor there; the man
was on the outlook just the same And
meanwhile in the balance the rival
widows swung. Tip, up went Mrs
Bonner, down went Mrs. Marthy. Tip,
up went Mrs. Marthy, down went Mrs
Bonner. Tip, ounce to ounce they
poised and swung. and the deacon was
still In a quandary.
Click,
No sooner had Mrs. Bonner retired
than the door of the next house
opened wide, and with rug and broom
and business-like buster turbaning
her thinning locks, the portly Mrs
Marthy stepped quickly out. Switch,
switch, switch! There was no dust
on her spotless rug, but there might
be dust in the deacon's eyes.
Vegetables! Vegetables"
For the lands sake!" exclaimed
the newcomer, wheeling an unwieldy
right-about and facing the paint-blis-
tered fence: Hear that, will yuh,
Deacon Carberry, hear It? Old Ped
dler Cleavers on the avenoo, again."
''Yes'm, yes'nn, indeed. Fancy, meow,
an him 30 blind" replied the sym
pathetic deacon.
Blind! Blind, did I hear y say,
Deacon he
widow, surprised.
And for moment the deacon hest |
tated. Blind? Hey, wasn't that what
Mrs. Bonner had just told him? Yes,
yes. certainly that was what she had
said, and he had never had cause to
doubt Mrs. Bonner's word: "Yes'm,
blind, said. That is-er-more or
less, Mrs. Marthy, ma'am," he supple |
mented with a smile.
''Vege-tablesi Vege-tables!"
Louder and louder grew the cry,
and in a moment a long, rakish- look |
ing wagon piled high with rosy |
checked apples and crisp, fresh vege- |
tables, drew up at number nine.
Hello, Joey, hello, boy! Glad t. see
you back again." cried the deacon, en- |
"Ah. howdy, howdy, Deacon Car
berry," rasped the old peddler. nod |
ding pleasantly and climbing leisure |
ly from his seat, IAN by Shingoes, |
sir. it's right glad meself, am ter be |
back, ya-as!"
Yes, yes. indeed, Mr.. Cleavers,"
broke in Mrs. Marthy, dropping her
broom and advancing quickly to the
business end of the wagon; land we
we-all hope you are quite well again."
Thank y, thank y, ma'am," num-
bled joey, "thanky'" But If the |
peddler's eyesight, as reported, had /
failed him, his memory had not, and a |
curious sQuint, which seemed to be |
watching the window and his own |
twisted mouth at the same time, set |
his bronzed old face distressingly |
askew: Il remember, remember" he
was calculating mentally, Five cents
with an she springs a flyer on me-
Ten minutes yappin' an fingerin', an
she says, Nav. nuthin,' t'-day, Joey.
Why don't y carry honey?' Aw, no
good, no good at ALL" And he glanced
expectantly at the windows of the
Widow Bonner's home.
Vegetables Vege-tables!" he in
toned again; for in the prosperous
Gays gone by the Widow Bonner had
been a customer after his own heart. L