1900 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER, 
567 
The Love of Lemuel. 
Part I. 
“That feller,” said old Solomon Betts 
to a stranger in town, as Lemuel Jilson 
took his Weekly Clarion and went out 
of the post-office, “is the bashfulest 
feller in town, er in the country. You 
wouldn’t think it, but he’s ben trying 
to make it up to a woman, old maid she 
is now, fer—Lord! how long is it, any¬ 
how?—and he can’t ever git up spunk 
enough to tackle her.” 
“Don’t tell me?” said the stranger, 
with full interest, watching Lemuel Jil¬ 
son getting into his buckboard. 
“Fact. Jest as good and capable a 
feller as the town’ll show up. Ben 
school d’recter er town trustee er some¬ 
thing ever since he’s had whiskers. 
Mayor one time. Steward in the Metho¬ 
dist church. But come down to Em’line 
Bestor and he hain’t the gumption of a 
moskeeter. Curious case. Can’t I recol¬ 
lect Lemuel Jilson sparking ’round Em’¬ 
line Bestor when he wa’n’t much more’n 
out o’ roundabouts? Er trying to sparK 
her, that’s more like it—trying to. He 
didn’t git her. And why didn’t he? 
His own plegged foolishness! She liked 
him; she’s always liked him; and if it 
had ben any other feller on the hull 
face o’ the globe but Lemuel Jilson-” 
“Wonder to me,” chuckled the post¬ 
master, “how he ever contrived to ask 
the woman he had.” 
“Sary Dow was his wife, and it’3 
more’n prob’ble she done the asking,” 
said Solomon Betts, with a snort. 
“More’n prob’ble. Wal, she’s ben dead 
fer ten years! What did Lemuel do? 
Marry Em’line Bestor, her’t he’d always 
hankered after, and have a good mother 
fer his girls and take a little comfort 
fin’ly? No! There he was ag’in; 25 
years hadn’t boosted him along any, 
seem’s if. He got an old sozzle of a 
housekeeper, some kind o’ distant rela¬ 
tion, and he’s kept her. And there’s 
Em’line—hull town knows her condition 
o’ mind. Hull town knows she’d marry 
Lemuel in half a minute if he ast her. 
Looks like it, don’t it? She stayed an 
old maid when she might ’a’ had any 
one o’ five er six good-enough fellers 
and one minister.” 
“Yeup. You see, she’s good-natured, 
and got as much horse sense as most 
women, and a good cook, and good look¬ 
ing, and a fair dresser. She’s the kind 
of woman men buckle to,” said the post¬ 
master, formulating reflectively a strik¬ 
ing universal truth. “Wal, now, look 
a-here, Solomon, Lemuel goes up there 
to see her. He’s got along that fur, and 
you can’t tell; mebbe-” 
Old Solomon Betts squinted at him. 
Sarcasm imbued him, and profound in¬ 
credulity. “Got that fur, has he? You 
take it 10 years from now, er 40, if 
they’re living, and you’ll find him sneak¬ 
ing up there to see her now and ag’in, 
off and on, and Em’line feeding him ap¬ 
ples and cookies and talking pleasant 
things to him; and that, b’gol, is all you 
mill find!” said old Solomon, in the 
scorn and wrath which contemplation of 
the facts had roused within him. 
Whether by the telegraphic communi¬ 
cation between minds, or from the force 
of ancient habit, Lemuel Jilson was 
thinking about Emeline Bestor as he 
drove up the road. So long and so 
faithfully had he thought of her that 
the vision of her was with him always, 
like the indestructible subconsciousness 
of self. He was a modest man, at heart 
singularly timorous and morbidly self¬ 
distrustful. 
Many times during the past nine years 
had he tried to ask Emeline Bestor to 
marry him. His constant attitude was, 
indeed, a silent, touching inquiry on 
that point. But those occasions when 
he had striven to put the question in 
material shape were memorable—mem- 
MOTHERSBe sure to use“Mrs.Wins- 
low’s Soothing Syrup” for your children 
while Teething. It is the Best.— A.dv. 
orable for the appalling strangeness of 
his sensations, for his unhappy strug¬ 
gles, often protracted, and for his failure 
always. Everybody in town, he was 
poignantly aware, knew his position in 
regard to Emeline Bestor. Everybody 
knew he had cared for her all his life, 
and that long ago he had wanted to 
marry her, and that he wanted to marry 
her now; and that, able-bodied man that 
he was, he had never asked her. He di¬ 
vined, with an instinct sensitively keen, 
in what manner the village discussed 
his condition, gossiped about it, snick¬ 
ered over it. It was known as broadly 
as that Hi Jennings’s wife wanted a di¬ 
vorce, and that Dan Swain had had de¬ 
lirium tremens. He knew that it was to 
be laid, in large measure, at the door of 
his exceeding great, native bashfulness, 
which had more than once, even in dis¬ 
tinctly practical affairs, kept him back 
and defeated him where men of meaner 
parts had succeeded. But there was 
something else—something of which the 
callous world would not have dreamed, 
nor could have fathomed; something 
that Lemuel himself but dimly compre¬ 
hended, and could never have put into 
words. His tenderness for Emeline Bes¬ 
tor had been the one great emotion of 
his frustrated life; loving her, he had, 
with a fine simplicity and fidelity, 
looked upon her as he looked upon no 
other woman; he had set her on a plane 
far above himself; his love might follow 
her there, but some subtle power held it 
back from the nearness of bold and de¬ 
cisive approach, because in that lay the 
semblance of desecration. In Emeline 
Bestor the village in general saw a 
pleasant old maid—of whom people said, 
as an unequivocal compliment, that no¬ 
body would ever take her for an old 
maid—whose recipe for raised cake was 
borrowed widely, and who could be 
counted upon to wash more than her 
rightful share of dishes after church so¬ 
ciables. Who can say what Lemuel Jil¬ 
son saw in her? Who shall smile be¬ 
cause he saw it? 
He had been up to Pitt Wheeler’s, and 
made a horse-trade, driving thither 
with his animal, and returning with his 
purchase hitched to his buckboard. The 
horse, Humboldt by name—Pitt Wheeler 
was quite a reader—had a vaguely fam¬ 
iliar look for which Lemuel, reflecting 
on tne fact that Pitt Wheeler never 
drove this horse to town, failed to ac¬ 
count. Lemuel had, however, a mascu¬ 
line inattention, even oblivion, to small 
matters; his girls had been accustomed 
to make his Christmas presents under 
his nose, and then to surprise him with 
them. He was not thinking much about 
Humboldt; he was thinking old, old 
thoughts about Emeline. Her house was 
in sight, and Lemuel’s heart—still a 
heart, though it had pumped for half a 
century—beat a little faster. The in¬ 
frequent Sunday evenings when he sat 
with Emeline and her father, oia 
Ephraim Bestor, in Emeline’s parlor, 
and talked on unexciting subjects, and 
ate the enjoyable things which Emeline 
always offered him—these wefe the hal¬ 
lowed times of Lemuel’s life; times the 
recollection of which bridged over al¬ 
most happily the interims between 
them; the times he lived for. Sometimes 
Emeline played hymns on her organ, 
and made Lemuel sing them with her, 
only that Lemuel could not get a tune 
himself, but that he had difficulty in dis¬ 
tinguishing one from another. Gentle 
she always was, and smiling; always 
cheerful; always dressed in a way be¬ 
coming to her rather portly figure and 
her fair, middle-aged face.—Emma A. 
Opper, in Woman’s Home Companion. 
Between a stagnant pool and a stream 
in a freshet, although the one leaves un¬ 
disturbed old landmarks and channels 
and the other breaks down banks and 
uproots trees, there is no room to doubt 
which is the better, for the one is the 
breeder of death and the other the be¬ 
ginning of life from the dead.—Bishop 
Potter. 
Doily with Crocheted Border. 
A friend in Wisconsin asks for de¬ 
scription of doily with crocheted border, 
suitable to use in a bread or cake bas¬ 
ket. Fig. 196, designed by Sallie Story, 
is reproduced from Modern Priscilla. 
Take a round piece of linen, 
inches, and hem, then crochet all around 
over the hem in d c with No. 50 crochet 
cotton. 1st row—T c in every st, ch 3. 
2d row—* T c in same st as the ch 3, ch 
2, 2 t c in next 3d st of last row skip¬ 
ping 2; continue thus around. 3d row— 
Ch 3, 1 t c between the 2 t c of last row. 
Then make 3 picots at this point, ch 3. 
1 s c under the ch of 3 of last row. Con¬ 
tinue thus. 4th row—Ch 5, 1 s c in cen¬ 
ter of middle picot, ch 3, fasten in cen¬ 
ter of next middle picot. 5th row—T c 
in every st of last row, repeat from * 
twice, leaving off with the row of picots 
for outside row. Finish with a row of 
brier stitching on linen just inside the 
hem. 
A Girl’s Training. 
There is no better training for busi¬ 
ness than that which a girl, rightly 
taught, can get from household and do¬ 
mestic work of all kinds, including sew¬ 
ing, says Ada C. Sweet in Woman’s 
Home Companion. The work of every 
business consists mainly of details. To 
oversee and manage these details so as 
to bring about from their combined ac¬ 
tion a profitable result is to be success¬ 
ful in business. The girl who learns the 
details of housekeeping thoroughly—its 
buying, saving and use of materials— 
and then perfects herself in the manage- 
D3ILY WITH CROCHETED BORDER. Fig. HM5. 
ment of these details so as to bring 
about a harmonious, well-appointed 
home, is becoming an expert in a com¬ 
plex and exacting business. Should it 
become necessary for her to exert her¬ 
self in another occupation in order to 
earn her living, she will find in any 
business she takes up that her mastery 
over the detail and general combination 
of one enterprise is of great help in 
enabling her to grasp the affairs of an¬ 
other. The girl to whom bread-making 
is an exact science, who cooks by weight 
and measure, who never leaves any 
needed thing from the dinner-table 
when she lays it; the girl who knows all 
about buying and making her own ward¬ 
robe, choice of materials, selection of 
modes, cutting and fitting and dainty 
making—this girl will never find it hard, 
if her common-school education has not 
been neglected, to become useful and 
valuable in almost any business. In 
every business punctuality, exactness, 
neatness and prompt attention are of 
prime importance. In no way can these 
virtues of executive activity be better 
learned than by the actual performance 
of household duties, as a regular occupa¬ 
tion, for a length of time sufficient to 
make the routine a habit. 
To many women the business world 
looks like a great, mysterious whirl, of 
which she can understand nothing. It is 
really a mass of detail indifferently well 
guided, indifferently well thought out 
even by those who are immersed in its 
interests. A girl need not go away from 
home in order to be prepared for the 
possibility of her entrance into this 
world of business. Her best prepara¬ 
tion for such a future contingency will 
come by strictly utilizing in the home 
her present means of improvement and 
practical usefulness, no matter what 
they may be. If you learn how to be a 
good home-keeper and home-maker, and 
then the time comes when you must go 
out into business to earn bread instead 
of to bake it, you will know that eight 
o’clock means when the hour-hand 
points to the center of the figure 8 on 
the clock, the minute-hand being at 12; 
that an hour means 60 minutes; that 
your attention, as well as your time, 
must be given to whatever you would do 
well; that there are one hundred cents 
in a dollar, and that to waste pennies 
means to waste dollars; that it is essen¬ 
tial to do all tasks well and expeditious¬ 
ly at the same time; that you must give 
and exact good weight, time and meas¬ 
ure, and that all this can be done by 
concentrating attention on the work in 
hand. In short, you will be punctual, 
industrious, quick and neat of hand, 
thrifty, saving and attentive to your 
task, the very ideal of business adapt¬ 
ability. 
Good nature is the beauty of the mind, 
and, like personal beauty, wins almost 
without anything else—sometimes, in¬ 
deed, in spite of positive deficiencies.— 
Hanway. 
Generosity during life is a very differ¬ 
ent thing from generosity in the hour of 
death; one proceeds from genuine lib¬ 
erality and benevolence, the other from 
pride or fear.—Horace Mann. 
OU would like the lamp- 
A chimneys that do not 
amuse themselves by pop¬ 
ping at inconvenient times, 
wouldn’t you ? 
A chimney ought not to 
break any more than a tum¬ 
bler. A tumbler breaks 
when it tumbles. 
Macbeth’s “pearl top” and 
“ pearl glass ” — they don’t 
break from heat, not one in a 
hundred ; a chimney lasts for 
years sometimes. 
Our "Index" describes all lamps and their 
proper chimneys. With it you can always order 
the right size and shape of chimney for any lamp. 
We mail it FREE to any one who writes for it. 
Address Macbeth, Pittsburgh, Pa. 
JO ECZEMA. CURE, SI at druggists. 25c 
V size of us. Coe Chem. Co., Cleveland, O. 
BaB. 
new, smart 
Oxford suitings —grey- 
black mix—fine all-wool, 52 
inches wide, 50c. yard. 
56-inch all-wool grey Suit¬ 
ings, 50c. 
Advance styles of choice Au¬ 
tumn Suitings, and for dressy 
skirts. 
Goods, and a price therefor 
shrewd buyers will find to their 
liking. 
Closing out some odd lots 
splendid 50-cent Summer Dress 
Goods, 25c. —nice for school 
suits—and, what’s of mighty 
importance, half price. 
Surplus lot of half-dollar 
Black Wool Crepe Cloth, 44 
inches wide, 20C. yard 
—useful for wear the year 
’round. 
BOGGS & BUHL, 
Department C, 
ALLEGHENY, PA. 
