Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1869-05-26
TO LET-A DESIRABLE RESIDENCE

Nine O'Clock of lovely April morning
with the air breathing soft scents of bud
ding grass and early spring violets, whfI'
overhead the blue sky stretched its daz
ling dome, like an arch of glittering .sp
phirel
Its spring in good earnest" said Mr.
Petro Peterson as he sat at his window, hi,
heels poised on the extreme outer ledge
and fragrant Havana perfuming the sur
rounding atmosphere. "Heighho! 1 ca,
almost fancy how the dandelions are star
ting over the hills of the old New Hamp
shire farm where was born! Who would
think that it was the twenty sixth of Apri
already? And my house not let yet
What can the real estate agents be think
ing Off"
Mr. Petro Peterson was stout. bald
headed gentleman of some six and fort,
years of age, with bright hazel eyes, and a
neat, compact little fgure-one of those men
whose very air and gait, even though were he
never to speak word, make the perpetua a
proclamation, Il am a man of money and
position!"
II don't see why Mrs. Parker wanted to
give up the house,, went on Mr. Peterson,
in his unsyllabled soliloquy. ''She says it S
because the price of board is falling, and
she can't afford to keep up the establish.
ment A great mistake of hers, in my
opinion-a great mistake! She's the only
woman ever knew who could make real
French omelette, or knew what cafe noir
meant! Dear me!--its a sad, unsettled
state of affairs for me I'm almost tempted
| to wish-alnsost, 1 say-that 1 had married
some nice, sensible little girl twenty good
years ago; for-dear me, what can all
that ringing at the bell mean? Why don t
Mrs. Parker answer it Do the people
mean to pull the wire out bodily, l won
der"
He had just tossed his cigar out of the
window, with the intention of himself has
tening to the rescue, when red handed
servant girl came up to his apartment,
breathless and eager
What is it, Hanna?" he cried, iraci-
bly,
IF ye plase, sir, the misthress is gone to
mari ket, an there's no one to show the
house. l tould 'em, would they come again
but they said perhaps Mr.. Patterson would
oblige en- -
Very cool of 'em upon my word ?"
cried Mr.. Peterson, mentally execrating the
whole race of house hunters 'sTell 'em
We don't show the house except between
the hours of ten and two-tell en-
Il beg your pardon, Mr.. Peterson,
cried voice as soft and sprie htly as the
notes of the blue bird, "but mamma and
have SO many places to 90 to, aud we
thought you wouldn't mind our seeing the
house
1t was Jeannie Cope, brown eyed, dim
ple-cheeked little fairy. with curls like the
April sunshine, fresh complexion, and
the trimmeSt OF all imat Unable figures. And
Mr.. Peterson's wrath melted away ike a
morning yapor before her pretty insolence
of demeanor, as she stood in the doorway
balancing fairy parasol on her finger, and
looking with saucy artlesshess round his
bachelor sanctum, while Mrs. Copes ma
tronly codhtenance appeared in the back
ground.
Petro Peterson kicked a stray slipper un-
der the table, and threw his dressing gown
oyer huge meerschaum stand, striving to
appear as disembarrassed. as possible.
Every happy to see you, I'm sure," he
said, turning red, and wishing he had ''ti-
died up little before he sat down to his
matutinal cigar. Anything 1 can do for
you
''You can allow US the privilege of look
ing at your house" said Jeannie, coaxing
ly. '1-that is, mamma has got to move,
and although the rent of this house must of
course be very high, she thought, BY taking
few boardefs, she might contrive to meet
expensesi"
Exactly so, ." said Mrs. Cope.
''Are you going to move elsewhere p
asked JEANNE, of our hero, as she glanced
at the half packed trunks.
my landlady is,'' groaned Mr. Peterson.
''It's awful to be at the mercy of landlady
Miss Copel'
''But it's all your faultl" cried JEANNE,
with roguish sparkle in her lovely blue
eyes.
'All my fault?''
''To be sure-why didn't you get mar
ried p
because was fooll' said he, inspir-
ed by the roses Oh Jeannie's cheek, and the
coral of her laughing lip.
And why don't you get married now?"
pursued the relentless little sprite
Would you,' asked Mr.. Peterson,
IF yol were me?''
"Of course 1 would. Get married and
board with u.s. Mamma will give you this
room, and"
my dear |" said Mrs. Cope
'My dear madam" cried Mr.. Peterson,
still with his eyes fixed on Jeannie's lovely
face, 81 assure you think it is an excellent
idea I"
And all through their journey from cellar
to French roof, while Mrs. Cope considered
the relative advantages of this room and
that, and JEANNE futtered to and fro like a
graceful little humming bird, Mr.. Peterson