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About The gazette-times. (Heppner, Or.) 1912-1925 | View Entire Issue (April 30, 1914)
HOME AND FARM MAGAZINE SECTION 9 The Deacon's Exoneration Hugh Pendexter Writes One of His Best Short Stories on an Ever-Pleasing Subject ET was on the first day of the county fair that Deacon Plunkett fell from grace. There were many who merely pitied him for ever wagering his hard-earned money on the gaunt mare Abigail's Pride, but the insistence of the spiteful few that he be disciplined carried the day, and as a result three fellow church men met In solemn conclave to mete out justice. The postmaster, a staunch elder, presided and duly read the charges. The poor deacon could only groan and gaze appealingly from one stern face" to another and breathe hurried ly, as if pressed for air. The session was held in the back room of the post office, overlooking the old-style, half mile track, where even now the fair managers were preparing for the morrow by dragging brush around the circle. The rain had interrupted the races afler the day of the deacon's down fall, but the culprit, even amid his heavy groans realized the sun and wind would thoroughly dry the gravel Inside of the next twenty-four hours. - "Wul, Brother Plunkett, how d'ye plead to this charge of sinfully bet tin' on . a hoss race?" repeated , the II Hotel Benson 11 II Carl Stanley, Manager G. Kirke Drury, Asst. Mgr. II A F1KK and element proof II f hotel with every modern II II convenience and equip- II II nient. Central location. Two II II beautiful dining rooms. New II II buffet. Sample rooms. Rates II II no higher than those in in- II II fcrlor establishments. Auto II II busses meet all trains. Send II for beautifully illustrated II booklet. II PORTLAND, OREGON The Simplex Stands for quality, and quality is what you want in a separ ator. The better the sep arator the more dol dollars, for you get a "Simplex" and save all the butter fat and make more money. Dairy and Creamery Supplies. Monroe & Crisell 128 Front St, Portland, Oregon. Full Lino FOR EXCHANGE Portland Income Property for Improved farms. Write us to day with full description. . KELLER & DEAL The Live Wires. : Lumber Exchange Building. . Portland, Oregon. postmaster gravely, his angular jaw thrusting forward with a Puritanic fixity of purpose. "Lawd! What can I say, elder? That pesky Widder Peasly says she see me plank down a half dollar on th' fence an' then see Ab Thomas cover it with another half dollar," moaned the deason. "We're surprised Deacon Plunkett, that a man of your years should be so weak," growled Hiram Whltten's heavy bass, and he wrinkled his nose sourly, while his half-closed eyes gave no intimation of leniency. "It would seem breathering, that as the Deacon has well nigh confessed we can only return a verdict of guilty as charged, an' leave It for the congrega tion to say what shall be done." "Mebbe we ought to dig Into this a bit deeper," suggested the third In vestigator, Head Selectman Carr. "I've known Brother Plunkett so long It don't seem . possible he could go around bettln' money on hoss races. Mebbe his mind was upset In some way. What hoss did ye bet on, deacon?" The postmaster's eye glinted with interests he squared his elbows and wet his pencil, while Mr. Whltten shaded his gaze with one long bony hand, and Inclined his head a bit to catch the answer. "On that derned Abigail's Pride," sighed the deacon. "She struck me as such a sweet natur'd driver, such a cheerful, gamey little mare, that I didn't think It was gamblin". .Why, I'd a swore Ab Thomas didn't have a ghost of a show. An' where there ain't ho chance to lose I don't see how it is gamblin'." "I never liked th' way she carried her head," observed Mr. Carr mildly. "I dunno ahout that," protested Mr. Whltten, shaking his head stoutly and pursing up his lips. "She always struck me as bein' unusually clean gulted forward." "Why, a man that would bet on that nag," cried . the postmaster strangly, "ain't no gambler. He's jest common crasy, that's all. I wouldn't put a penny on her to beat a hearse that Is, 'sposin' I was sinful enough to bet on a hoss race." "She made good time las' fall on th' Durglnville track," defended Mr. Whltten shortly. "Track was muddy, too." "She's a hummer on a wet track. That's why tomorrow will see her leavln' everything behind her as if they was hitched. Why, Sim Cole's hired man told me yesterday that after a rain like we're Just been havin she'll go through th' field like a streak." Mr. Carr pricked up his ears and twisted nervously in his chair, while the postmaster bit his pencil dubi ously and sneered. "What does Sim Cole's man know about her, anyway?" "He took care of her at th' Durgln ville track," informed the deacon. "He knows a hoss all right," de clared Mr. Whltten dreamily. "But I Can't say I like th' way th' mare was handled t'other day. Seems if her driver fretted her at th' stretch." "She grew wuss an' wuss in every heat," added the postmaster, listlessly. "She'd probably make a fine show in" tomorrcr if she was given a fair chance," lamented Mr. Carr. "An" she'll git th' chance," cried the deacon, seeming to forget the hazard of his position, "for Sim's man is goln' to handle her. Lawd! I pity them folks that's weak an' sinful enough to bet agin her. I feel so re pentent I cal'clate it's my duty to warn 'em all." "No," decided the postmaster firm ly. "It ain't your duty, Egbert, to do that." "I should say not," cried Mr. Whlt ten, his eyes glittering. "But folks will be glvin' odds against her," protested the deacon humbly. "Joshua Runnells says he'll bet a dollar 'n a half to seventy cents she's distanced." "It ain't our duty to save Josh Run nells' money for him," reminded Mr. Carr decisively. Then he added, "An' so Josh Is stoppln' here at th' village this week, eh?" "He's workin' at th' livery stable durln' th' fair," Informed the deacon. "Hm," muttered the postmaster, eyeing Mr. Whltten's unfair proximity to the door in gloomy disgust "Wal," ha finally added, "seeln' as how Dea con" Plunkett is repentant an' don't know hardly nothln' about hossea, I guess we'll draw up a report say la' he is tnnercent" "I'm In a hurry," explained Mr. Whltten, "an I guess I'll sign my name to this blank sheet an' let ye fill th' report to suit yourself. Elder." "I'd trust th' Elder to say th' right thing," added Mr. Carr warmly, as he followed the other's example. The postmaster frowned, and when left alone wrote his brief report most hurriedly. Then he jammed on his hat and sauntered carelessly down the street toward the livery stable. The exoneration of the deacon was warmly applauded by the majority that night His long life of correct living and his many kindly deeds were not to be outweighed by one foolish act, it was urged, and with a bland smile he accepted forgiveness and bustled about his duties with all his old-time energy. The morrow saw the same bland smile on his face as he slowly entered the fair grounds, where he met the tribunal of yesterday in the immedi ate vicinity of the stables. "Lookin" at th' hosses?" he asked genially of the postmaster. The postmaster bit at a straw re flectively and then in a confidential tone returned, "Th' more I see of Abi gail's Pride, th' more foolish I think ye was to bet on her." "I think she's gone plum lame," de clared Mr. Carr, joining the other two. ".Shoes too heavy," added Mr. Whit ten from the other side. And in vindication of the trio's judg ment Abigail's Pride that afternoon, despite the shrewd jockeying of Sam Cole's hired man, proved a complete) failure, and was thoroughly dis tanced. "Thought ye said she was alt hunky-dory on a muddy track," snarled the postmaster, as his friends silently slouched into the back room. "Simply chain llghtnin' to go," sneered Mr. Whitten bitterly as ho mechanically slapped an empty pocket "A dollar 'n a half to 70 cents," mumbled Mr. Carr despondently. "Wal, I'm dod rotted glad ye lost on th' first day's racln', Plunkett. Wish ye'd lost today," growled the postmaster. 'So do I," added Mr. Whltten grimly. "I can't lose all th' time," grinned the deacon complacently, edging to ward the door. "Jim Sliby's roan, Bluefly, looked purty good to me to day, an' I hedged a bit." "A reg'lar gambler," gasped Mr. Carr as the door softly closed and tho trio were left alone. The Hum of the Blizzard Makes Me Smile "The louder she hums the more smile it means the filling of my silo of stuff my cows like and thrive on it means that my crop is being rapidly put sway where weather does not bother. I don't have to , wait tor good weather like you do and run the risk of losing my crop. That hum is music to me aorta seems like the old Blizzard is sing ing over the good work it's doing. Yes, it's a Blizzard. Why) Well, Sir, just watch it few minutes and you won't need an answer. See the boys hustle. They have to, to keep up with it. The Blizzard hardly ever chokes, cause the throat is so large and clear. No, there is no danger. The gears kre all shielded and a pull of that lever near John's hand instantly stops, start or reverses the feed rolls . and feed table. The Blizzard is different from most silo fillers. You see the Blizzard people stated to build silo fillers before any one else ana decided to build as simple and as coed a machine as possible. Most cutters hare a separate cutter, fly wheel and fan, but the Blizzard people combine these in one, which makes less wearing parts and takes less power to run the machine. Another thins that aude me take to the Blizzard is that no time is lost in adjusting the knives to the shear plate. There is a device on the main shaft br which this is done while they are running full blast No. the boys don't worry about the silo. The Diizzard wind blast shoots the auat-e i listributor spreai it out evenly inside. I tell you it's m money mater ror any farmer and in oil weather seasons it s a Hat big money saver. 3ri mm 3 A If 1 were you ldeat right down nd wnto tor a copy of the Blizzard book. "WHY SILAGE PAYS" nd one of their complete cata log. It will tell you ft lot of thin that you ought to know, whether vou in- ' tend to put up suave thu tea on or not" Send me a copy of your tree book, I "WHY SILAGE PAYS" and complete Bliztard Catalog. J PORTLAND Spokane Boise Nam .... Address . 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