When David Newell, a prosperous Southton farmer living "over east," as that portion of the town was designated, invited all the young people in the vicinity to his annual husking-bee, every one knew that a good time was in store. Card-playing was considered a vice in those days, and limited to a few games of "seven-up," played by sinful boys on a hay-mow, and dancing was frowned upon by the churches. On the outskirts of the town a few of the younger people occasionally indulged in the crime of taking steps to music as a change from the pious freedom of kissing parties. There was one sacrilegious person named Joe Dencie living in the east-side neighborhood, who could not only "make a fiddle talk," as the saying was, but "call off" and keep time and head, foot, both arms and entire body as well, and at once. To describe his ability more completely it might be said that he fiddled and danced at the same time.
When the anticipated evening came, Manson and Liddy, as well as other invited ones, arrived at the Newell barn, where everything was in readiness. In the center of the large floor was a pile of unhusked corn surrounded by stools and boxes for seats, and lighted by lanterns swinging from cords above. No time was wasted, for Joe Dencie was there, and every one knew that the best of a husking came after the corn was disposed of. And how the husks flew! When a red ear was found by a girl the usual scramble occurred, for unless she could run once around the pile before the young man who discovered it could catch her, he claimed a kiss. Manson, who sat next to Liddy, kept a sharp watch, for he didn't intend to have some other fellow steal a march on him. He noticed that she husked cautiously, and when presently he saw her drop an unhusked ear by her side he quietly picked it up and found it was a red one. He said nothing, but her action set him to thinking. It was not long ere the pile of corn melted away, and then the floor was swept; Joe Dencie took his place in one corner on a tall stool, and the party formed in two lines for the Virginia reel.
There is no modern "function" that has one-half the fun in it that an old-time husking-bee had, and no dance that can compare with an old-fashioned contra-dance enjoyed in a big barn, with one energetic fiddler perched in a corner for an orchestra, and six lanterns to light the festivities! It was music, mirth, care-free happiness and frolic personified. The floor may have been rough, but what mattered? The young men's boots might have been a trifle heavy, but their hearts were not, and when it came to "balance and swing," with the strains of "Money Musk" echoing from the bare rafters, the girl knew she had a live fellow's arm around her waist, and not one afraid to more than touch her fingers lest her costume be soiled. Girls didn't wear "costumes" in those days; they wore just plain dresses, and their plump figures, bright eyes and rosy cheeks were as charming as though they had been clad in Parisian gowns.
When the dance was over all were invited into the house to dispose of mince pie, cheese, doughnuts and sweet cider, and then, with the moon silvering the autumn landscape, the party separated. As Manson drove along the wooded road conveying Liddy to her home, he felt a little curious. He could not quite understand why she had taken pains not to find a red ear. All the other girls had found one or more, and seemed to enjoy the scramble that followed.
"Why did you not husk that red ear?" he asked her, after they were well on their way.
"Simply because I do not like public kissing," she replied quietly. "Some girls do not mind, and perhaps they like it. I do not. It cheapens a girl in my opinion, or at least it certainly cheapens a kiss. You are not offended, are you?" turning her face toward him.
"By no means," he answered; and then, after a pause, he added: "I think you are right, but it seemed a little odd."
"I presume I am a little peculiar," she continued, "but to me this public kissing at parties and huskings seems not only silly, but just a trifle vulgar. When we were children at the district school, I thought it was fun, but it appears different now." Then, after a pause: "If I were a young man I would not want the girl I thought most of kissed a dozen times by every other fellow at a party. It is customary here in Southton, and considered all right and proper, while card-playing and dancing are not. I would much rather play cards or dance than act like school children."
"I most certainly agree with you, so far as the cards and dancing go," said Manson, "and now that you put it in the way you have, I will agree with you regarding kissing games."
As these two young people had just entered their third year at the academy, and Liddy was only eighteen, it may seem that she was rather young to discuss the ethics of kissing; but it must be remembered that she was older in thought than in years, and besides, she was blessed with a father who had rather liberal and advanced ideas. He did not consider card-playing at one's home a vice, or dancing a crime.