The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1871-11-10

SCA ChbOiOO liAC GAOSCJy W. L. Lbu u
quickly and locked him in.
"There, atrocious monster" b
gloated rubbing his hands. 'sNo
Ito return to the garden by the lac
der, and, if possible, obtain a police
man. Mrs. P, must not see me c
him or she will release her love
from his imprisonment, and he ma
escape.
Back to his bedroom he went, bu
re entering, he stood rooted with hol
iror to the ground.
A noise could be heard from tn
window, and evidently some one els
was coming up the ladder.
Mr.. Pottletop ducked under tn
sofa as before.
Another stranger appeared.
was a stout, elderly person, dresse,
in a semi-military great coat, wear
ing a voluminous neckerchief, an,
topping all off with an immense wig
He put his legs deliberately in AM
looked around.
"Not here? he exclaimed. Dow
stairs, of courser'
"Another one of 'em looking fo
herp' groaned Mr.. Pottletop. "Hov
many more are there? Oh, periureC
woman, little did 1 suspect thisp'
u hope she may not delay" con
tinued the latest arrival. Il hat,
waiting. Snug-lOoking room-and
upon my honor, pipel I'll take 8
smoke"
Mr.. Pottletop looked on in fresh
horror. His pipe-his own private
particular and solitary meerschaum
The stranger quietly filed it, put ii
between his lips, and sat down.
"Now this is what call comfort .
he soliloquized, the smoke curling
over his capacious wig; "and /
shouldn't mind staying here alto
getherw
81 suppose not" reflected the agi-
tated spectator under the bed. sBut
your sojourn shall be briefer than
you expect"
"Only 1 should insist upon the So
ciety Of some precious little creature
like the lady 1 am waiting for, to de-
seroy the monotony. Her husband
isn't the man for her. From what 1
hear of him, he must be regular
old pumpp'
"Me a regular old pumpp' said
Mr.. PottletOp, grinding his teeth.
II wonder if he would thank me
for coming, if he knew what brought
me hereP"
"Not much p sighed Mr.. P.
The door opened, and Mrs. Pottle-
top ran in hastily.
"Generalm she cried; show kind
you are! Is he gomez"
"Gone! He must be, if you haven't
seen him down your way. He GER
tainly isn't about here anywhere"
"How thoughtful it was of you to
call at the front door frstp' said
Mrs. P, charmingly plump little
woman of thirty. "And how espec
tally thoughtful to next get into the
garden. As neither of us has seen
him, I am certain he is gone.
"Are your groaned Pottletop.
You'll find yourself confoundedly
presently"
81 must next relieve Sarah. Poor
thing! she has been dreadfully ner-
vous. Sarahp'
That innocent young person en-
tered.
"You needn't be under any further
alarm, Sarah. He is gone"
'Is he, mum2 How delighted Il
am to hear itr'
eyes! Now I will take general
below, and insist upon
his having a glass of wine"
MADAME" said that gallant Off
Ger, Il shall be only too happy"
At the moment they had disap-
peared, Mr.. Pottletop determined to
show himself. He made a move
ment to get out.
whats that?'' exclaimed the ner
vous Sarah, rushing to the door.
Its only"
But before the poor gentleman
could articulate a syllable further
she darted down the steps, scream
ing at the top of her voice. Instant
ly afterward, General Wagstafe
came clumping back into the room,
red with fury. Mr.. Pottletop seized
a bootjack, the General snatched upl
q water pitcher. They stood face to
face.
"Pll do for you, ruffian!" exclaim-
ed the general
"You will2 You'll assassinate me?
Reckless libertine, I am diminutive,
but courageous? 1 shall throw you
out of the window"
"That's your game is it2 cried the
stranger. "Well, two can
play at it; so let US see who'll win"
With which he rushed upon poor
Mr.. Pottletop, upset the table in the
way, smashed the water pitcher over
his head, carried him bodily to the
and flung him head fore
most into the yard.
Mrs. Pottletop came running in
again, pale as ghost.
"He's gone this time, madame"
gasped the general, wiping his face.
Il don't think you'll be troubled by
him again. 1 have flung him out of
5he house, and there's not much
Danger, 1 fancy, Of his reappear-
ance."
The delicious little woman pressed
the warriors hand, and descended
with him to the dining room. This
apartment looked out upon the yard.
Had its two occupants glanced at the
window, they might have seen a face
the face of the injured POttletop.
With bloody nose, cheeks covered
with mud, and clothes smeared with
the ashes of the dust-heap into which
ne had been tossed, he stood on his
glaring in at them.
"Now, general, for your wine," he
heard his wife say. Excuse me on
ly one little minute. Our wine is in
the library closet"
"The library closetr echoed Pot
tletop. "Her other lover is there.
Ireacherous woman, she is not true
to anybodyw
Mrs. P. went out of the room, and
the general cooked his feet comforta-
bly, on the mantlepiece. Mr.. Pottie-
top knew by this that he was not like