The Bottineau courant. (Bottineau, Bottineau County, N.D.) 1895-1929, 1915-03-26

"
"pattyW be Mrs. Wilson or nothin',"
was Mrs. Days response.
can't make sows' ears Of 'em. We
amt neither of us hardly fair to Pat
ty, an l s'pOse it's because she didn't
set any proper value on Cephas."
"Oh, she's good enough for Mark. 1
guess, though l amt so SURE Of his in
tentions as you be. She's nobOdy's
fool, Patty amt: l allow that, though
she did treat Cephas like the dirt in
the road. I'm thankful he's come to
his senses an found out the diff renee
between dross an gold"
cts very good of you to put it that
way, Abby" Mrs. Day responded
gratefully, for it was Phoebe, her own
offspring, who was alluded to as the
most precious metals. Il suppose we'd
better have the publishing notice put
up in the frame before Sunday i
There'll be a great crowd out that day,
and at Thanksgiving service the next
Thursday too"
"Cephas says he don't care how soon
folks hears the news, now all's set
tied" said his mother. Il guess he's
kind Of anxious that the village should
know jest how little truth there is in
the gossip bout him bein' all upset
over Patience Baxter. He said they
took considerable notice of him an
Phoebe settin' together ut the harvest
festival last evenin'. He thought the
Baxter girls would be there for GER
tain, but l s'pOse Old Foxy wouldn't
let 'em go up to the Mills in the even
in nor spend Il quarter on their tick
cts"
Mark could have invited Patty an
paid for her ticket, l should think, or
passed her in free, for that matter.
when the Wilson's got up the enter
tainment; but. of course, the deacon
with mel folks"
Not in public; 80 they meet EN- side
O. the river or round the cOrne of
Barts shop, or anywhere they can,
when the deacon's backs turned. If
you tied a handkerchief over Wait
stills eyes she could find her way
blindfold to Ivory Boynton's house,
but she's good as gold, Waitstill is.
She'll stay where her duty calls her
every time. If any misfortune or scan
dial should come near them two girls
the deacon will have nobody but him
self to thank for it, that's one sure
thing"
Young folks can't be young but
once" sighed Mrs. Day. How'd you
like that Boston singer that the Will
sons brought here, Abby? Wait a min
ute. is Cephas, or the deacon tendin'
i store this afternoon"
THE deacon; Cephas is paintin' up
to the Mills"
well Mark Wilson's horse an bug
gy is meanderin' slowly down Aunt
Betty Jacks hill. an Mark is studyin'
the road as If he was lookin' for a
four leafed clover"
He'll hitch at the tavern, OF the
Edgewood store, an wait his chance
to get a word with Patience said
Aunt Abby. He knows when she
takes milk to the Morrills', or butter
to the parsonage: also when she eats
an drinks an winks her eye an ketch-
es her breath an lifts her foot. Now
he's disappeared an we'll wait. 80"
Why, as to that Boston singer, l don't
know how high she went, but l guess
%hopn vy0'nsk M hiuhDr IN rD1S
1T made me kind O. nervous" al
lowed Mrs. Day. Folks said she sung
runs and trills better'n any woman up
to Boston"
Runs an %trills," calculated Abby
scornfully. II was talkin' bout sing
in, not runnin'. My niece, Ella, up to
Parsonfield has taken three terms on
the palmer, an I've heerd her prac-
tice. Scales has got to be done no
doubt, but they'd ought to be done to
home, where they belong. A concert
amt no place for 'em. There! What
did l tell yer? Patience Bakers cross
in the bridge with a pail in her hand.
She's got that everlastln' yeller brown,
linsey-w0Olsey on an a white cloud
wrapped around her head, with con
sid'able red hair shown, as usual.
You car always see her fur's you al
a sunrise. And there goes Rod Boyn-
ton chasin' behind, as usual. Those
Baxter girls make a perfect fool O.
that boy, but l don't s'pOse Lois BOyn-
toms got wit enough to make much
fuss over the poor little creeter"
Mark Wilson could certainly zee Pat.
ty Baxter as far as he could see a sun
rise, although he was not intimately
acquainted with that natural phenome-
nor. He took a circuitOus route from
his watch tower and, knowing well the
point from which there could be no
espionage from Deacon Bakers store
windows, joined Patty in the road, took
the pail from her hand and walked up
the hill beside her. OF course the vii.
Age eQuld zee them; but. as Aunt Alb