Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1926-03-12
THE
WEDDING
TOMBSTONE
By cLARIcE 1. cLINoHAM
ia by Short Story Pub. Coz


~" Mellndy Barbour's weddln'
tombstone2" said grandma in
tone of surprise. "For the
lands sake. thought everybody knew
about that"
l confessed the most abject igno-
rance and Immediately drew up to the
fire. This was partly to gain infor-
nation and partly because, although
the fireplace was wide and deep
throated and big logs were blazing In
1t, there were biting draughts Of sting
ing November air coming in at the
loosely fitting door. For grandmother
would not be persuaded to leave the
home that had been hers for fifty
years, and which now showed some
signs Of decay. She sat knitting Wig
orously by the freight. I was an
angular schoolgirl OF fifteen then, with
a great love Of the romantic, and was
on four weeks visit at the old home
stead. II seemed never to occur to
grandma that, having been raised in
a different part of the country, the
happenings at Ragged Corner (where
she lived) would naturally be unknown
to me. She always expressed fresh
surprise at my ignorance on these
subjects. After knitting a few min
utes in silence, she began:
you've seen the old stone house
down on the bank of the river, all
shut in with pines and evergreens2
It's nigh hundred years old. When
l was born 1t had been built ten years.
When l was young married. woman
the Barbours came to live there, and
they was proud, high-fselin' people
that nobody could get acquainted with.
That's what made 'em take 1t so dret-
full hard when-but here I am, way
ahead Of my story You see, Mr.. Bar
bour embezzled or did something of
that kind, and went to prison. After
he had been there year he up and
hung himself, and that is the last of
him so far as my story goes.
''Then his wife and little boy shut
themselves up in the stone house and
never went outside the gate hardly.
tohC u AOOu uOal VI HCllOVlluk,
his mother had, and she taught him
herself as long as she could, and then
he bought books and studied by him
self He tried going to school when
he was small boy, but one Of the
scholars threw It at him about his ia
ther, and Mortimer nearly killed him,
and after that his mother KEEP him
home. And she was such a proud
woman, was Mrs. Barbour, and lofty
and severe in her ways. She wouldn't
let nobody sympathize with her,
which everybody wanted to, as there's
so little going on In place like Rag
ged Corner. Mis- Barbour was real
selfish with her grief, so she got her
self disllked. besides folks bein' sus-
picious after the way her husband
turned out. What did they live on?
oh, the boy farmed 1t, and later they
do say he wrote books on what they
call natural history, though to my
mind 1t was the most unnatural stuff
I ever heard tell of-all about beetles
and bugs with three hundred muscles
in their heads, and as could carry
twelve hundred times their own
weight on their own backs, which
everybody knows he must have got up
as he went along. They we're dret-
fully taken up with each other, he and
his mother, and she believed every
thing he said was so, even about the
bugs and beetles. But she was his
own born mother, and that explains It.
when she died, Mortimer liked to
went crazy. He planted her grave
with yi'lets and pansies, and at the
head was a white marble monument
he had gone to the city for--nothIng
nearer would suit him. But he didn't
display no taste Nothing on 1t, my
dear, but the old lady's name and the
date she died-not an angel, nor a
cherub, or a lamb, or broken rose
bud nor a bit Of verse. And yet he
always seemed to set store by her.
"Then Mortimer, he Just stuck to
the old house, same as ever, though
now he was alone. I used to wonder
how It seemed to him late at night
hearIn' the swash Of the river and the
sighin' Of them pine trees. He wore
his hair long, as was the custom in
them days and It was curly up at the
ends, like the picture of John Wesley.
But he had eyes that went right
through you and came out the back of
your head. And he never set foot into
the meeting house, nohow.
Nov, he was the last man In the
village I'd ever said would got mar
rled. But as sure as you set there,
when the little mIlliner, Melinda Nc
Allister, came into the place, he was
struck. That wasn't nothing strange
all the young fellows was-but,
mind you, she was struck, too. No,
you wouldn't a. thought It, Everybody
warned her, and told her about his
fathers hangln' himself In prison, and
how queer his mother was, and that
Mortimer was as odd as Dicks hat
band and wouldn't come to no good.
She listened, with her eyes big and
cool and little hot patch of red on
her cheeks like a daub Of paint, but
she never said a word That was Me-
Indy McAlllster all over, never to say
a blessed word, but go and do just as
she saw A. First we knew they was
engaged and 1t was given out In meet
ing Next day her aunt she lived
with came In to see me, and wrung
her hands, sayln she wouldn't be sur
prised II Mellndy was murdered be-
fore the year was out. What can Won