The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1913-07-02

The Qd1n III OE2dSC was dILuOSC more than could bear.
 "Lover," I said as I kneIt down by him in the dim old hall and put my arms around him as if to shield him from some blow I couldn't help being aimed at him, 'tyou wouldn't mind much, would you, if just this time your Molly couldn't go with you? Your father is going to take good care of you and-and maybe bring you back to me some day."
 ''Why, Molly,'' he said, haring his astonished blue eyes at me, "'tain't me to be took care of! I ain't a-going to leave you here, for maybe a bear to come out of circus and eat you up, with me and Doc gone. Sides, Doc ain't no good and maybe wouldn't help me hold the rope tight to keep the whale from gitting away. He don't know how to do like tell him like you do.''
 '"Try him, lover, and maybe he will will learn to- I couldn't help the tears that came to stop my words.
 Now, you see, Molly, how you'd cry with that kiss spot gone,'' he said, with an amused, manly, little tender ness in his voice that I had never heard before, and he cuddled his lips against mine in almost the only voIun- tary kiss he had given me since had got him into his ridiculous little uous- CTS under his blouses. You can have most a hundred kisses every night if you don't say no more about not ago ing and fix that whale hook for me quick he coaxed against my cheek.
 Oh, little lover, little lover; you didn't know what you were saying with your baby wisdom and your rust grimy lit "a ia uof7% %ho cI0 Y1Io aTa my breast like a terrible white heat from which was powerless to de fend myself. You are mine, you are, you arei You are soul of my soul and heart of my heart and spirit of my spirit and-and you ought to have been flesh of my flesh.
 don't know how managed to an swer Mrs. JOfnson's call from my front gate, but sometimes think that women have a torture proof clause in their constitutions.
 She and Aunt Bettie had just come up the street from Aunt Bettie's house, and the Pollard cook was following them with large basket in which were packed the things Aunt Bettde was contributing to the entertainment of the distinguished citizen. MT. John son is Alfred's nearest kinsman in Hillsboro, and, of course, he is to be their guest while he is in town.
 ~He'H be feeding his eyes on Molly, 30 he'11 not even know he's eating my 1 Washington almond pudding with Thomas old port in it, :" leased Aunt | Bettie, with 8 laugh, as went across | the street with them.
 There's going to be a regulsN cpl demic of love in HiIlsboro, do be 1 neve," she continued in her usual strain of sentimental speculation. T l saw MT. Graves talking to Della Hawes in front of the store an hour ago as ]. came out from looking st the blue chintz. to match Pet for the west | wing, and they were both so absorbed they didn't even see me. That was what might have been called confia- ] grafton dinner you gave the other night, Molly, i'm more ways than one. l wish a spark had set off Benton l Wade and Henrietta too. Maybe it did, but is just taking fire slowly | E>think it would be good thing just to let Aunt Bettie blindfold every un- married person in this town and mar ry them to the first person they touch hands with. It would be fun for her | and then we could have peace and ap- | parently as much happiness as we are going to have anyway. AEEab Johnson | seemed to be in somewhat the same state of mind as found myself.
 'Humph.'' she said as we went up the front steps, ''I'n be glad when you are married and settled, Molly Garter, so the rest of this town can quiet down into peace once more, and I sincerely hope every woman under fifty in Hills boro who is already married will stay in that state until she reaches that age. But do believe if the law march ed widows from grave number one to altar number two they would get into trouble and fuss along the road. But come on in, both of you, and help me get this marriage feast ready, if must! The day is going by on greased wheels, and I can't let Mir. Johnson's crotchets be neglected, Al Bennett or no Al Bennett?'
 And from then on for hours and hours I was strapped to a torture wheel that turned and turned, minute after minute, as it ground spice and sugar and bridal meats and me relent- lessly into a great suffering pulp. Could ever in all my life have hun gered for food and been able to get it past the lump in my throat that grew larger with the seconds? And if AL fred's pudding tasted Of the salt of dead sea fruit this evening it was from my surrepdtious tears that dripped into it.
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