Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 90, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 April 1919 — THE TIMID MAN [ARTICLE]

THE TIMID MAN

By JULIA A. ROBINSON.

Hiram Briggs wanted a wife. He wanted one badly, for he was living alone, and he knew very little about housekeeping, although he-was a firstclass farmer. He owned one of the best of farms, horses, cattle and a fine house, nicely furnished, and with every modern improvement—everything, in fact, was hfs except the one thing needful, a worthy helpmeet. Hiram knew just the girl he wanted to marry. He had long loved her in secret, but was too bashful to pop the question. From his corner pew in the church he watched her as she sang in the choir, her sweet voice rising above the others. Sometimes he found courage to walk home with her, but he always left her at the gate without the decisive word, but with a timid glance of lova that Sally did not resent. He would walk past her house evenings, longing for boldness to go up to the door and knock, then would go back to his lonely home, to dream of her. Sally lived alope, and she was a good housekeeper; bright and witty, and the best of company. There was every reason why these two should join forces, if only Hiram could have made the first move. Sally would have been perfectly willing—if Hiram would ask her. Sometimes it happens that circumstances favor the faint-hearted, and circumstances helped Hiram at last. He had beento’town to buy grain and was returning, home just before sunset. It was a pleasant ride, and he let Prince walk up the long hills while he mused, thinking of the wife he would have some day. Yes, he would ask Sally to marry him —he always said that until he came face to face with her, when his tongue refused to speak. Her bright face would make the home cheerful. It was a happy future that he pictured, but he had seen that picture many times with his mind’s eye, and had come no nearer to the realization of it He had reached the top of the hill where he always stopped for a rest for from this point Sally’s house was visible, a mile away. Sometimes he would see her in the dooryard, and she would wave to him, then he would ride on perfectly happy. Prine* stood still of his own accord. But as Hiram looked across the fields he saw something that made him start in fear. Fire! Sally’s house was burning! Was she at home?" Did she know? The house stood by itself in a hollow, far away from neighbors. Had anyone seen the fire and come to help her?

Hiram grasped the reins and touched the whip to Prince’s back. Never in all his life had the horse traveled so fast as he now flew over that mile of country road. The house was nearly burned to the ground when Hiram reached it. There was Sally trying to put out the flames and to save a few of her cherished belongings, lugging great buckets of water from the cistern, with only two small boys, who had been attracted by the smoke, to help her. Jumping from the wagon, Hiram rushed up to her and caught her in his arms. She was so wearied that she clung to him with a stifled cry, but with a feeling of comfort arid protection. “Cheer up, Sally!” he cried. “Ain’t it nice I happened round in the nick o’ time?” He was feeling strong now, and the feeling of her arms clinging to him took away all his fear. “Your house is gone and all there is in it ’Taint no use trying to save anything, and ’tain’t necessary. My bouse is big enough fur us both. It’s been waiting for you a long time, Sally. I always meant it for you.” He carried her to the wagon and seated her by his side, and she had not spoken a word, but he knew by the feeling of her arms clinging to him that she was willing. He took up the reins. “Go. ’lang, Prince!” he called, “and be quick about it” Then he turned to her with the old shy look. “Mebbe ’taint quite the fair thing to take you so sudden,” he blurted. But I’ve wanted you all the time, Sally, only I hain’t darst to ask you.” Sally blushed and the laughter came back into her eyes through her tears, with a roguish look she answered, as she crept a little closer, “Mebbe you never would have got the courage to ask me, Hiram, if the old house hadn’t burned down, so I shall h’ave to count that as one of my blessings.” Her lips were so’near, and so smiling that he could not help kissing them. (Copyright, 1919, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)