Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1915-12-15

figures, keeping time to the music of
their own voices, and making a de.
noument every few moments, by some
man kissing some woman, perhaps III
a dark hall, or some woman kissing
some man, or some man kissing all
the women, or vice versa. Elders
and preachers often looked on in pious
appreciation, and the church covered
these sports with the mantle of her
approval, but was ready to excom-
municate any one who should dance.
Promiscuous dancing was the fiery
dragon which the church went out 10
STAY. Only it's death could save her
from fit Of choler which might be
fatal, unless, indeed, the dancing
were sanctified by promiscuous kiss
ing. If men and women danced to-
gether without kissing, they were in
immediate danger of eternal damna-
ton; but with plenty of kissing, and
rude wrestling to overcome the del
icacy of women who objected to such
Dissertation, the church gave her
blessing to the quadrille.
My protest against these plays had
given offense, and I chose to avoid
them; but one evening the host beg
ged me to remain, saying he would
see that was not annoyed, and would
himself take me home. The frolic
was only begun, when he came and
asked permission to introduce gen
tleman, saying: IF you do not treat
him well, will never forgive you"
There was no need of this caution
for he presented man whose pres
ence made me feel that I was a very
little girl and should have been al
home. He was over six feet tall
we'll formed and strongly built, will
black hair and eyes, long face, ant
heavy black whiskers. He was hand
somely dressed, and his manner tina
Of grave reverend seignor. A Rus
sian count in New York drawing
room, then, when counts were few
could not have seemed more foreig1
than this man in that village parlol
less than two miles from the place q
his birth.
He was the son of the old revolt
tionary soldier, with the unpronoun<
able name, who lived in the beautifu
valley. This knew at once, but did no
for some time, realize that it was b
who rescued US from the black wa
ers on that dark night, carried us t
safety and light, and left us again i
darkness. This incident, so much |
me, he never could distinguish anon
the many times he had ''helped Oleve
and his seminary girls out of scrapes
and he never spoke of these advel
lures without the same laugh whic
1 noticed when Father Clever thanl
ed him.
He had elected me as his wife SON
years before this evening, and had n.
kept it secret; had been assured b
choice was presumptuous, but can
and took possession Of his prospe
tive property with the air of a ma
who understood his business. ne.
saw him on horseback, and this me-
of giant strength in full suit Of blac
riding large spirited black hors
became my 'black knight"
My sister hated him, and my mot
er doubted him, or rather doubted Il
propriety of my receiving visits fro
him. His family were the leadil
Methodists of the township; his fat
er had donated land and built q met
ing-house, which took his name, al
~ his house was the headquarters
travelling preachers. There was
camp-meeting ground on the farm
. his mother ''lived without sin," pra
ed aloud and shouted in meetin
while the income and energy Of t
family were expended in propagate
g. faith which we believed false.
marriage with him would be incC
gruous and bring misery to bot
These objections he overruled, /
saying he was not a member of a
church, would never interfere wi
my rights Of conscience, would t.
or send me to my meeting when p<
sible. and expect me to 20 sometim