The workingman's advocate. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1864-1877, 1866-06-30

agin,v said Mrs. Hayes to her son, ont
morning al breakfast.
"Well, lei her SET" remarked Timothy
helping himself to a huge piece Of cheese
81 reckon can stand it as long as she cam
81 do wish you would try to be a little
more equinomical Of cheese, Timothy
''Pve cut the very last Of my every day lot
and its only the FIRST Of May. And now, a
soon as you've done eating want you to 20
out and break up that hen. She's setting
on an old axe and two bricks now.''
g hope she'll hatch 'em," returhed
Timothy.
If she was set now, she'd hatch the
fourth week ii May. It's bad s'sn, some
thing alters happens after Il. Stop gig
cling, Helen Maria; by the time you get to
be as old as yer ma yen see fLlther than
you do now. There was Jennings folks.
their gray top knot hatched the last week in
Nav, and Miss jenkins, she had the con-
junction on the lungs, and would have died
if they hadn't killed lamb and wrapped
her in the hide while its warm. That was
all that saved her." .r-
With such a startling proof Of the truth
of the omen before him Timothy finished his
breakfast in haste and departed for the barn,
from which ne soon returned bearing the
DiuIy w Nuc Ackrs
"What shall DO with her, mother? She'll
get on again, an she's cross as bedlam-she
skinned my hands, and would be the death
of me if she could get loose"
I" I'ye heer'n it said that it was good
plan to throw Fem up in the air." said Mrs.
. HAYES. "Aunt Peggy broke one Of settling
only three times trying. Spose'n YOU try it,"
''Up she goes, head or tail 90 cried Tins,
- he foaaaA fba rnlnann Il
g Land O. massy," exclaimed Mrs. III.
g she's coming down into the pan o. bread
that set out on the great rock 70 rise
Tim, tits strange that you caa't do nothing
without overriding it."
stars" sung out Tim, elevating biddy az ain
with some thing less than q pint Of batter
hanging to her feet.
"Good Gracious me! wuss and wuss,"
cried Mr.. HAYES, and Tim agreed with her I;
for the ben nad come down ON the well
polished Of Squire Bennett, who hap
pened t passing, and the dignified old
gentleman was the father Of Cynthia Ben
nett, the young lady with whom Tim was
seriously enamored.
The squire looked daggers, brushed of
the dough with his handkerchief and strobe
on in silence.
=" Yes, but it's going up again." said Tim,
spitefully, seizing the clucking biped and
tossing her at random into the air. Biddy
thought it time to manifest her individuality,
and with loud scream she started against
tie parlor window, broke through, knocked
dowl the canary cage and landed plumb in
the silken lap Of Mrs. Gray, who was board
ing at the farm house.
Mrs. Gray screamed with horror, and
starting up, dislodged biddy, who few at
her reflection in the looking glass with an
angry hiss. The glass was shattered and
down came the hen, astonished above
measure, against vase of flowers, which
upset, and in falling knocked over the stand
dish and delIged with ink and water a pair
Of slippers, which Helen Maria was en-
broidering for her lover, Mr.. James Hen
shaw.
Helen entered the room just as the mis-
chief had been done, and viewing the ruin
she at once laid it to her brother Timothy.
She heard his step behind her and the un-
fortunate hen she flung full in bis face.
There was a smothered oath. and the hen
came back with the force of twelve pound
shot.
Helen was mad. Her eyes were nearly
put out with the feathery dust and dough,
and she went at Timothy with true feminine
zeal. She broke his watch guard into a
dozen pieces crushed his dickey and began
10 pull his whiskers out by the roots when
she suddenly remembered that Timothy had
no whiskers to pull out by the roots.
But when she came to look closer she
perceived that the man she had nearly ami
hilated was not Timothy, but James Hen
shaw.
Poor Helen burst into tears and fed into
her chamber, the usual refuge for heroines !;
and James, after washing his face at the
kitchen sink, went home sternly resolved
never to marry woman with such temper
as Helen Hayes had.
Then hen, meanwhile, who is our heroine,
returned to the barn to establish herself On
the ruins of her nest, sullenly determined to
set il the heavens fell.
Mrs. HAYES soon discovered her, and hav-
ing heard that dipping in water would cure
"broOdiness," she set forth for the brook
with the fowl in her apron.
Mrs. Weaver, an old lady Of very quarrel
some temperament, who resided near, and
was at swords point with Mrs. Hayes, was
Just coming to the brook for pail of water
and spied the yellow head of the bird peep
ing out from Mrs. Hayes apron.
s'Therev she exclaimed, snow Pve found
out what puzzled me to death nigh about a
week. Pye found out where thst yellow
pullet has gone to. Mrs. Hayes, l alters
knowed you was wicked, desateful woman,
bat didn't, think you'd steal"
s'Steal? me steal who are you talking to,
Mrs. Weaver z" said Mrs. Hayes, on her dig
nifty.
. Pm talking to you, madame, that's who
Pm talking to: You've stole my hen that |
got over to Uncle Gillies' and paid for in
sassengers. She's a real DOrking. Give
her to me right here, or I'll use force p
"She's my hen, and you touch her il you
dare %
"Pn show you what dare" yelled Mrs.
Weaver, growing purple and seiEing the
fowl by the tail, she gave q wrench, and the
tail came oct in her hand.
The sudden cessation Of resistance upset
Mrs Heayer's balance, and she fell back
ward into the brook, splattering the mud
and astonished pollywogs in every direction-
She was spry woman, and was soon ON
her feet ready to renew the assault.
"Give me my hen % she cried, thrustingl
her fist into Mrs. Hayes face, s'you old bag
and hypocrite you'll p and she made second
dive at the bird.
The hen thought it proper to show her