Rensselaer Republican, Volume 13, Number 45, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 July 1881 — An Unfortunate Suitor. [ARTICLE]

An Unfortunate Suitor.

In the early days of Indiana, one of the Slate Senators was a good-natured giant, named George Bopne. When he stood up, his height attracted attention, for he measured nearly seven feet. It he made a gesture, his hands were noticed as the largest ever seen. But it was his feet that amazed his colleagues.. One day, when joked on his big hands and feet, he told the story of an early experience which a brother Senator, in his “Sketches of Early Indiana,” reports as fbl’ows: When about ’ 18, young Bound thought he would . call on a neighbor who lived a few miles oil. Sally, tho neighbor’s daughter, was large and pretty, and the youthful giant thought she would make him a suitable wife. It was Igte in the fall, though too early to put on shoes, so he started bare-foot. His best butternut-colored suit had beep made some six months, before, and was much too small for him. The pantaloons reached only just below bis ka<?es, while the coat stretched as 4igfit oyer his body as an eel-skin dried on a hoop-pole. After-wading creeks and muddy hottoms, the wouldrbe “sparker” arrived/ at the neighbor’s log hut juSt\s the! family were sitting down to the supoer of mush and’milk. Being inviuted “draw up,” he sat down alongsidef.f Sally. The old lady offered himfta a rge bowl,which he stretched forth his hand to take. Not making sufficient allowance for the size of his hand, he struck the’ big milk pitcher. Out went the rhilk over the table, and odt went Sally from the room, roUring with • laughter. The old lady kindly remarked, “It will rub out when it dries;” but the youth knew he was already rubbed "out, so far as Sally was conct rued. He saw nothing, more of her. t The clock struck ten. “Mr. Boone,” asked the old* lady, “won’_tywu wash your feet and go to bed?” “Yes, ma’m.” “Here’s an iron pot; it is the only thing I have that’ll do.” ( The pot proved too small for his feet to enter, except by sliding them in sideways. When in, they swelled so much that he could not get them out. The pain was intense. As the clock 11, the old lady asked: “Mr. Boone, are you done washing your feet?” “What did this pot cost?” he roared; “I must break it.”. “A dollar.” “Bring me the ax.” Breaking the pot in pieces, he handed the old lady a dollar, opened the door and started for home. Several years after he met Sally at a husking. As soon as she saw him, she burst out laughing.