Democratic Sentinel, Volume 13, Number 39, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 October 1889 — LETTERS FROM THE CORNERS. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

LETTERS FROM THE CORNERS.

Neck ob Nothin’ Hall, ) Kilkebwy Cobnebs, 1889. f

■R. EDITUR: Es I Iwus a sayin in my hast, Sally Boggs I'was thare to go {'long with us. I ~warn’t overly tickled to hev her, fur Ashe often ses to me, ses she: s “Mis Scooper, syou don’t know, fwhat a good man •you’ve got, fur you hain’t never had

no axperience, but I tell you Wiliam Henery air one in a thousan, an I ©rt to no.”

Good laws! I she’d think she ort, fur she hes hed fore partners an is a lookin around right smart fur number five, an es I were to die she’d try her best to ketch WiUam Henery, but thank fortune, I’m pretty tolable helthy an there haint no widder of fore men a goin to take my place rite off —no, not enyways soon, they won’t. So when she were there reddy to go long, I was a leetle mite cool, not clear cold and hotty, but jest moderate cool-like. I were a leetle bit nervy fur seer the keers would run offen the track, or sumpthin else desperit nd happen. I want no ways cumfertible at furst, an when I seen Wiliam Henery a talkin to a cuppie of slick lookin strangers I was afeard hed git into sum sort of a scrape. An he did. Sally hid notised the strangers to, an she hunched me an whispers: “Sake’s alive, Hester Ann, ain’t them to men Mr. Scooper is a talkin to jest to hevingly fur enny thing; an look, they air a cumming over this way. I feel thet I hev met my fate! Is my hat on strait, an dew I look jest sad an sorrerful enough fur one thet hes ben resently bereeved?” ses she, all of a twitter. I toleher she looked all right es fur es I cood see, and then Wiliam Henery he kim up an ses he, tickleder an a little dog stuffed with taller: “Hester Ann, I’ll bet you kaint tell me who them two fellers is.” I looked the men camly in the eye, an I see thet they were dressed fit to kill, an I see thet I didn t know ’em, neither. At first I thot one of ’em might be Lemuel Martin, but I see his eyes wus black, while Lem’s wus gray. “No,” ses I; “I don’t no ’es I’ve ever seen neither one of ’em.” “Well, thare old frens ’p yourn, though you liavn’t seen ’em sence they were childer. This one is Sam Murphy, an’ this one is Lemul Martin.” I coodn’t make it seem nateral, but I didn’t like to say nothin’ es long es Sally and Wiliam Henery wus so tuk up with ’im. Well, purty soon Lemul says: “Well, Mr. Scooper, les hev a little game of guess,” ses he, “like button-botton,” an he takes out three little boxes and a button, an’ continues: “Now, I’ll put this button in one of these boxes an’ the rest of you kin guess which one it’s in, an’ the one thet guesses it may hev a five dollar gold piece, ” an he laid one down. “I’ll bet $5 I kin tell,” ses Sam. “An go’ll I,” ses Wiliam Henery, though I tred on his toe an shuk my head at him. “Me too,” ses Sally, a simperin; an when they guessed why Wiliam Henery he gessed it an then Lem sed hed bet twenty an they bet twenty all aroun an me a trampin Wiliam Henery’s toe an a shakin my hed at the widder. Well they didnt nobuddy gess it thot time, an I jest rose up an collered Lem, an ses I: “Drap that munny!” an he drapped it. “Now,” ses I sturnly, a shakin him, “you haint no more Lemul Martin than I be an you no it. You git!” An ye got. Yes, Mister Editur, he went as fast as he cood an Wiliam Henery an the Widder Boggs wus purty thankful I wus thare. I reed the papers, I do. Well, an we got to Matilda Arrabellas that nite. So no more at pres-

ent.

HESTER ANN SCOOPER.