Democratic Sentinel, Volume 5, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 April 1881 — A Ludicrous Elopement. [ARTICLE]

A Ludicrous Elopement.

It’s hard for & “country jake” to convey to his Susan Jane the exact situation when first the arrow is lodged in his heart. The attitudes and awkward combinations of personal presentation are painful to an outsider, to say nothing of what he suffers. See him cross his legs, first one on top and then the other, and then see him shoot them out in front, and run his hands in his pockets; then he draws in his feet, doubles them under the chair, pulls liis hands out of his pockets and drops them down by bis side, stretches, yawns, blushes, and almost dies trying to say it. Poor fellow, it is martyrdom while it lasts, and when he does “get his mouth off,” it’s like putting a beggar on horse back; he just canters off to paradise with a happy-go-lucky indifference that is enviable, barring an obstruction on the track, and then over on his head he tumbles, when cruel parents intervene and refuse to ratify. A ludicrous case of this sort of agony occurred near the place of my nativity about twenty-five years ago, in which I had ray sympathies so roused that I was moved to lend the hero some assistance. His name was Joe, and his girl s, Martha Jane, to whom he had surrendered his entire heart, stock, lock and barrel—without reservation of any kind, which she. gushingly reciprocated by adding her entire stock in trade in the partnership proposed. But the old folks demurred—refused to ratify—threatened a war of extermination —banished Joe, and belied Martha Jane, besides several other threatened acts of dire hostility. In fact, Joe and Martha Jane had the biggest spider put in their dumpling ever known since Adam’s and Eve’s apple scrape. Their hearts all but “busted”—but they 3 didn’t.

The parties were neighbors—lived in sight of each other—Joe on the hill and Martha Jane in the bottom. When Martha Jane came forth to nourish her young fowls with a preparation of ground com and water, she would cast her loving eyes upward and rest them on Joe, who would from above look down affectionately on his Martha Jane, and they would sigh and swallow great hunks of grief as big as apple dumplings. Joe was so badly off that I was sorry for him, and when he called upon me to assist him, I proceeded at once to the prospective mother-in-law (more or less) with my eloquence, “from whom I proceeded from whence”—not running, but my time was good. I reported progress, and begged to be excused. Joe got worse and worse; threatened to commit—well, to steal something, and did make divers efforts to steal his girl, but the old folks slept on their arms. Joe was getting terribly bad off; he said lie must have her; that I must steal her for him. I tried to prevail on him to bide bis time; but, no, have her he must, and I must do the job for him; he knew I could do it if I would, and he wanted it done right off. When I found Joe couldn’t wait, I consented to try my hand. I was about Martha’s age, and the thought occurred to me that I would dress in woman’s clothes and let Joe steal me, and see if it would “sorter” cool his ardor. I confided my plan to some of the boys, and they approved it and promised their assistance. We concluded that we would let the old man, Martha Jane’s father, into the secret, and arrange for him to pursue us with his hounds, of which he had about a dozen, when we made tho attempt. The old man entered into the affair eagerly, for he despised Joe. After we had fixed all the preliminaries of time, place and manner of proceeding, we adjourned to meet the next Sunday night and have the chase. We met according to adjournment at the time agreed, and a woman hitched me up in some of her gear, with a parcel of things tied round my waist—l don’t know what they all were, but I know the outside was calico, and it was in two pieces; one was the tail, which was tied on first, and the other was a sort of jacket with sleeves to it, of some dark sort of stuff. These, with a white sun-bonnet, and a blue veil, and some cotton stuffed in judiciously to give me a gushing make-up, having been provided as indespensable to my toilette , I was ready and willing to be Joe’s —for a time.

When we arrived near Martha Jane’s house, the old man was waiting for us. We arranged that after we had got about a quarter of a mile off, one of our party, (who remained behind for the purpose) should notify Joe that we had Martha Jane, and when Joe came tearing by the house, the old man was to give him a salute from his old double-barrelled shotgun. Very soon here came Joe full tilt down the hill towards the creek. Bang went the venerable shot-gun, and away went Joe, and soon came the old man on his sway-baok horse, with his hounds and shot-gun, and accompanied by his son. Mitchellville was the objective point of the expedition, and it was about five miles off. The boys got Joe’s arms from him to protect his girl, and prevailed on him to rush ahead, pay the toll-gate fees, proceed on to Mitchellville and have the license ready, so ad to have no delay. Accordingly, Joe went off at a lope, paid the toll for us, and gave strict orders not to let Martha Jones’ father through; but when the old man came to the gate he just jumped his old sway-back over it, and bn he came, his hounds in full cry. The way he “got up and got” (dong that pike was a scene not to be forgotten. The fuss he made aroused everybody en route.

Our crowd consisted of five, besides Joe, and we arrived at Mitchell ville about 10 p. m. Joe was there, and as soon as I had dismounted, he was at my side and led me up to the door and rattled it so that the startled Justice opened it at once, but, upon seeing, as he supposed, a female, closed it to arrange his toilet. Meantime, the old man and his hounds could be heard nearing rapidly. I whispered to Joe I wanted to retire around the comer of the house to arrange my dress, and he said, excitedly, “Bein a hurry, the old man will soon be here.” I did make haste, for no sooner had I got around the corner than I darted through a gate, ran down the side of a fence, crept through an opening into a backyard, and hid behind an ash-hopper. When the Justice had got clothes on, he opened the door to tell us to come in, but, of course, I wasn’t there, and Joe was running frantically round the house looking for his girl, while the old man and his dogs were coming nearer every minute. The Justice came out and Joe yelled for his Martha Jane, but she came ncrcr Then the Justice called out: “Don’t be alarmed, madam, oome in; you shan’t be hurt,” and essayed to assist Joe to find her.

By this time the old man, his son and the hounds had charged into town and were almost at the door. According to previous arrangement a sham row at once began between oar boys and the pursuers, and so well was the thing done that the citizens (for every man, woman and child in the village was up) pitched m to prevent what they thought would be a sanguinary affray. .... , Tie burly Justice, seeing the turn affairs seemed to be taking, and excited beyond measure, mounted the horseblock and commanded the peace so vociferously as almost to be heard in the adjoining counties of this State and Kentucky. This restored quiet, our boys professing to be law-abiding citizens. The old man also simmered down, though he insisted that he had the right to be a little out of humor at the boys for robbing him of his gal, and kept lingering round and “cussin’” a little on the outside. , , , ~ After the row had been squelched, the women of the village organized a search for the lost maiden, with a view of shielding her from the wrath of the irate (fid man. It was not long before I was discovered by one of them, and she, 'with another, made a dash at me. I scuttled off as fast as I could, but I hung my boot in my lawn calico and made a perfect “shuckin’’ of it in my haste. It tore nearly off at the waist and split in two, and by the time I got to the next fence I had a*trail two yards long. I had great trouble in climbing that fence (I can’t see how a woman can climb a fence, no way); in fact, I half climbed and half rolled over, burst the strings round my waist, ran out of all the balance of my lower female harness, threw my bonnet back on my head, raised the yell, and almost ran over some more women who were looking for me, and I heard one of them say,3 as I passed—“Lordy, Kate, what was that?” I didn’t stop to explain, but made good my escape. Joe was not to be thus outdone. He persevered, and in a short time succeeded in getting away with the right Martha Jane, and the two were made one. But Mrs. Joe would never speak to me afterwards, for the reason, I suppose, that I came so nigh beating her out of a husband. It was the nearest I ever came to being married, and though Joe—doubtless instigated by his wife—gave me a terrible thrashing some eighteen months after the escapade, I never recall it without a hearty laugh.