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Updated: June 4, 2025
This was a familiar form of courtship in Kesota, and an evening filled with such romping was considered a "cracking good time." After the girl, red and dishevelled, had given up, Herman sat down at the organ, and they all sang Moody and Sankey hymns, negro melodies, and college songs till ten o'clock. Then Mrs.
He came in, and, introducing himself said he had heard of the excellent work of Mr. Stacey, and that he would like to speak with him. Wallace was sitting in a rocking-chair in the parlor. Herman was in Chicago, and there was no one but Mrs. Allen and Mattie in the house. The Kesota minister introduced himself to Wallace, and then entered upon a long eulogium upon his work in Cyene.
In the bright winter morning, seated in a gay cutter behind a bay colt strung with slashing bells, Mattie drove to Kesota for the doctor. She felt the discord between the joyous jangle of the bells, the stream of sunlight, and the sparkle of snow crystals, but it only added to the poignancy of her anxiety.
The wumman can do more, if the mon'll be eatin' what they cuke for 'im," said the candid old Scotchman. "Mak' 'im eat! Mak' 'im eat!" Once more Tom pounded along the shining road to Kesota to meet the six-o'clock train from Chicago. Herman, magnificently clothed in fur-lined ulster and cap, alighted with unusually grave face, and hurried toward Mattie. "Well, what is it, Sis? Mother sick?"
He came in, and introducing himself, said he had heard of the excellent work of Mr. Stacey, and that he would like to speak with him. Wallace was sitting in a rocking chair in the parlor. Herman was in Chicago, and there was no one but Mrs. Allen and Mattie in the house. The Kesota minister introduced himself to Wallace, and then entered upon a long eulogium upon his work in Cyene.
The wumman can do more, if the mon'll be eatin' what they cuke for 'im," said the candid old Scotchman. "Mak' 'im eat. Mak' 'im eat." Once more Tom pounded along the shining road to Kesota to meet the six-o'clock train from Chicago. Herman, magnificently clothed in fur-lined ulster and cap, alighted with unusually grave face and hurried toward Mattie. "Well, what is it, sis? Mother sick?"
She would gladly have given her blood for him, if it had occurred to her, or if it had been suggested as a good thing; instead, she gave him potatoes baked to a nicety, and buttered toast that would melt on the tongue, and, on the whole, they served the purpose. One day a smartly dressed man called to see Wallace. Mattie recognized him as the Baptist clergyman from Kesota.
She would gladly have given her blood for him, if it had occurred to her, or if it had been suggested as a good thing; instead she gave him potatoes baked to a nicety, and buttered toast that would melt on the tongue, and, on the whole, they served the purpose better. One day a smartly dressed man called to see Wallace. Mattie recognized him as the Baptist clergyman from Kesota.
The conductor coming through the car, the smooth-faced young fellow put up a card to be punched, and the student handed up a ticket, simply saying, "Kesota." After a decent pause the younger man said "Going to Kesota, are you?" "Yes." "So am I. I live there, in fact." "Do you? Then perhaps you can tell me the name of your County Superintendent. I'm looking for a school." He smiled frankly.
In the bright winter morning, seated in a gay cutter behind a bay colt strung with slashing bells, Mattie drove to Kesota for the doctor. She felt the discord between the joyous jangle of the bells, the stream of sunlight, and the sparkle of snow crystals, but it only added to the poignancy of her anxiety.
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