Beacon Sept 2023

Page 12A THE BEACON September 2023
The following excerpt is
from a book written in 1930
by a lifetime resident of Ripley
County, Yorkville, and Manchester.
The BEACON is honored
to share another chapter
of the book each month thanks
to Mary Randell’s descendants.
Previous chapters are
available online starting with
the August 2022 print edition
at goBEACONnews.com/
print_edition.
By Mary M. Greiner Randell
Chapter XIII
My youngest boy says I
must put in my book some of
my courtship, so here it goes.
My first young man who came
to see me was a preacher at
Church where my father and
mother belonged. I asked my
mother what I had better do.
Mother said I was too young
and to tell him so.
I worked in Indianapolis for
a while and came home
Author
Mary Randell
to help
Mother
cook for
the
carpenters
when they
built the
third
house and
barn. I was
only
fifteen years old but was very
large. I weighed almost 140
pounds.
The next man I went with
took me to church and then
home to where I worked. We
talked awhile at the gate and
when he proposed I told him
that I was a poor girl and
didn’t expect anything from
home, and that I wouldn’t
marry anyone as poor as I
was myself. (His initials were
H.D.)
The next one didn’t come
any more because I wouldn’t
go downtown with him to
accept treats. (F. L. are his initials.)
I never accepted treats
in ice cream parlors, nor any
presents.
The next one was a girlfriend’s
brother. When I
would find out from her that
he was coming to Indianapolis,
I would come home to my
mother and father for a weekend
visit. I shunned him three
different times and after that
he didn’t come any more. I
had nothing against him, only
he and work didn’t agree, and
I had too much ambition to
marry a do-less man. (P.M.
are his initials.)
One man came one Sunday
when I wasn’t through with
my dishes and wanted me to
go out walking with him. He
wanted to make a date for
Sunday evening, to take me
to church and have a chat at
home afterwards. I told him
I had no time to waste on
him, to go and get the girl
he left on Washington Street
last Sunday when he walked
away with two other boys.
He picked up his hat and left
without saying a work. (His
initials are T.G.)
The next one was a man
fifty years old. He had a nice
home and plenty of money,
and proposed to me the first
time he dated me. I told him
to get somebody near his
age, as I wouldn’t marry
anyone that old. (C.R are his
initials.)
The lady for whom I
worked when I was about
twelve years old had told
THE STORY OF MY LIFE
Courtship Days
me that when I was old
enough to have men coming
she was going to send her
brother to my house to “talk
sweet” to me. She said he
was very good looking and
a good boy. So once when I
was sixteen years old I came
home from Lafayette where
I had visited my sister. I was
working in Indianapolis and
had some money to spend
Saturday and Sunday. I don’t
know how this lady found
out I was at home, but she
sent her brother over to see
me just as she had said she
would. He began to talk
about farming. He thought
that was a nice way to spend
a life. I told him that since I
had been a resident of Indianapolis
I had become plumb
disgusted with farming. I had
had to plow corn when I was
ten years old and had helped
to clear the wood, cut down
little trees and pile them up
to burn, when I was only
seven, while Father cut the
big ones. So he said, “You
wouldn’t marry a farmer if
you had a chance?” “I should
say not,” I said. So his sweet
talk ended. Then he talked
with my father awhile and
said, “Good-bye.” That was
the last of J.M.
Here is the story of another
young man. He was a school
teacher. In the summer vacations,
he came to Indianapolis
to work in the brick yard. He
came to see me and took me
to church, then for a short
walk around the square and a
little talk at the gate. He came
to see me five times and the
next time, two weeks later,
he proposed. I told him that
I would do nothing like that
until I knew something of
his reputation back home. He
asked me if he could come the
next Sunday and I told him
that he could come see me.
Meanwhile, I went to see a
girl that I knew was truthful
and who lived not very far
from his home. She said that
he was engaged to a girl near
his home. I think that, missed
that one Sunday, he was out
home trying to break his engagement
to her. So, when he
came the seventh time, I told
him not to come any more but
to stay with the girl he had
promised to marry back home.
He always wanted to kiss me
when he went away, but I told
him that I would kiss no man;
I would shake hands and that
was all.
About four weeks afterward,
the first girl, the one he
was engaged to came to Indianapolis
where I was working.
She asked me if I knew where
P. S. was working. I told her,
“in the brick yard about ten
squares from here.” I told her
he had tried to propose to me,
and that I had told him to stay
with the girl in the country,
back home.
My husband’s folks and my
folks lived a couple of miles
apart and both went to the
same church. My mother-inlaw
had held me when I was
christened. When my folks
moved to Ripley County I
was one and a half years old.
My husband’s people came to
see us and bought a farm two
miles from us. So, you see we
had always known each other.
The folks had to go through
thick woods to see each other,
so Pa said he would mark
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some trees to make a path.
He cut down little sprouts
low enough not to catch on
one’s feet. When I was ten
years old, my husband’s folks
moved to Dearborn County.
When my husband came to
see us, he asked for me, and
my mother told him that I
was working in Indianapolis,
so he came there to see me.
After that, we wrote to each
other every month for about a
year, and when I came home
he came to see me. When
he proposed, he asked me
if I wanted to be his cook. I
told him I wouldn’t leave my
church, but he said he had
joined the Methodist church
two years before, so I promised
to marry him. The third
time he came to see me; we
were married at my home. My
sister came, and two of his
brothers witnessed the wedding.
We left that evening and
went to my husband’s home.
He was twenty-seven years
old and I was nineteen. We
took three rooms and lived
in the same house with his
people.
The Beacon thanks the descendents
of the Reindell family
for sharing Mrs. Reindell’s
story. Upcoming chapters will
be featured in future editions
of the Beacon.
Next
Beacon
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