You
had best seek the counsel of the Lord in prayer."
"Methinks in such matters a woman is the best judge," said the girl
naively.
"Tut, tut, Desire!"
"Nay, I meant no harm, mother," and then with a great sigh, she said:
"I will go. Poor father feels so bad."
The next evening when, dressed for the husking, she took a last look
in her mirror she was fairly scared to see how pretty she was. And yet
despite the dismay and sinking of heart with which she apprehended
Perez' attentions, she did not brush down the dark ringlets that
shadowed her temples so bewitchingly, or choose a less becoming ribbon
for her neck. That is not a woman's way. It was about seven o'clock
when she and Jonathan, who went as her escort, reached Israel
Goodrich's great barn, guided thither by the light which streamed from
the open door.
The husking was already in full blast. A dozen tallow dips, and half
as many lanterns, consisting of peaked cylinders of tin, with holes
plentifully punched in their sides for the light of the candle to
trickle through, illumined the scene. In the middle of the floor was a
pile of full a hundred bushels of ears of corn in the husk, and close
around this, their knees well thrust into the mass, sat full two-score
young men and maidens, for the most part duly paired off, save where
here and there two or three bashful youths sat together.
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