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About The Hesperian / (Lincoln, Neb.) 1885-1899 | View Entire Issue (May 1, 1893)
THE HESPEBIAN "Lisb Beadle." "Pap! pap I them preacher boys is sing'n agin," came from the throats of Lisli Beadle's quintette of girls as they rushed pell-mell into the shanty. "They's up on the street corner, front of Dan's s'loon," said the oldest, o girl of eleven years. "They's sing'n the same song what you said they singed last night, 'bout 'out on the desert sad and forsaken.'" "You must take us papa," chimed the five voices, "you know you said you would." Lish took his chin out of his hands, and his elbows off of his knees. Then ho got up from the soap box where he had been sitting while his wife waB parching corn for the supper coffee. "It must be nigh sev'n o'clock then, if it's them a sing'n," said Lish as ho put his head out of the door and listened. "It's them," ho announced in a moment. n.nd thon tnrnod to his wife, and 7 1 said: "I s'pose supper ain't quite ready. W Mae:, so's I o-uess I'll take the vouner 'uns up 'fore the boys git through sing'n." "Well, go if y'u want 'o" said the wife, "but y'u needn't think I'm goin' to keep supper wait'n for you. ' ' Lish seemed not to notice the sharpness of his wife's words, but reached for his K) sioucn nat, lilted tne youngest cnna to nis shoulder, took the next oldest by the hand and started off. The two older girls skipped on ahead, while the "middle un," as Lish called her, followed behind. "I don't care if Lish is kind and lovo'n to the children and never says a word back," said the wife as she turned the corn into a chipped, yellow bowl, and seized a potato masher that Lish had recently whittled from ash. She ground the kernels of corn sav agely. "Lish Beadle hain't one speck of git up about him. If he had we would'nt have to be usin' parched corn and old yellow dishes. If we had enough yellow dishes I'd bo glad, but this is the only one we've got in the house, the rest is tin. And hero is this old board table, with its rickety logs, it ain't seed a tablecloth for two years, not even an oil one." Evory board and log of the tablo twisted and creaked, as it rcoled about under the vigorous punching that Mrs. Beadle gave the corn. She turned from tho tablo to the stove and grabbed tho oven door. Off it came. "Thero! it ain't any hinges now!" ex claimed Mrs. Beadle, as she thrust her hand into the oven and pulled out an old dripping pan full of coarse corn broad. "But I guess its still in kcepin' with tho yellow dish and tho rickety table and the soap box. I s'pose when Lish sees the oven door broke off he'll say, 'Well Mag, the stove is gettin' kind a broke up, ain't it? Kin y'u get along a while longor with it, Mag? just as he did last week whon I set on a kittle of water and smashed the top in. A while longorl I wonder what he thinks I'll do whon 'a while longer's up? He ain't done a blessed thing this live-long summer, but sit on that soap box and whittle out tator smashers and roll in' pins. 'A while longer' '11 last till winter comes. Thon we'll have to pack off to the poor house. That's what's comin' to, suro's I'm Mag Beadle." "Whero's yor pap?" asked Mrs. Beadle of tho oldest girl as sho came in at tho door half an hour later, followed by her four sis tors, "lie's gone to tho Methidist church,'' she replied, and added, as sho walked up to the table and picked up a piece of cold corn broad: "Can we have some supper?" "What 'd ho go to the church for? How long's ho s'poso I'm goin' to sit 'round hero waitin' for him to come and oat ?" "Pap said for us to como homo an' toll y'u that y'u ned'nt keep nothin' warm for him. The moot'n's just for men; else we'd a gone." "Well, oat yor supper, and thon clear up tho tablo," said Mrs. Boadlo, as sho got her hat and put it on her head, this time with out remarking "it's tho same one I married Lish in." She wont out into tho back yard, picked up tho axo and bogan to hack away at a chunk of knarlod, knotty wood that represented tho winter's supply of fuel. "I s'poso Lish'll como homo and talk to