The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1873-03-18
A WOMAN'S CURIOSITY.
ss TACK, I say Jack ~
~ Well, what now ?'

~ swell, what now ?''
And John ST. John, the rising young
artist, as the newspaper puffs denominated
him, gave the church spire on his canvas
an extra touch before he looked round.
Esprit of Parrhasius," he exclaimed
theatricaly, as his eyes fell on Percival
Kent the sculptor, whose studio was OPP
posite his own, "what perturbs thy lofty
brain, friend of boyhood's days?"
"Oh, do stop chatting" cried Kent,
"and listen to what I've got to say. The
girls are here -
What girlsP''
"My cousins from Washington county
came in on the night train ; and-and they
expect me to give em some breakfast
want to try my bachelor housekeeping they
say" with grimace, and there's moth
ing in the cupboard but an empty sherry
bottle and plate of orange peel"
"Rather an unsatisfactory banquet"
observed st. John. "But what can do?"
"Stand by fellow," implored Kent
piteously, "and I'll do the same by you
when you're in a tight place"
"Of course l will but how ?"
"Help me get something to eat"
"Can't you order it from the restau-
rant?"
Kent screwed up his face, and shook his
head dolefully.
"No cash." said he. "And won't ask
for credit"
81 wish had something TO lend you,"
said st. John, diving down into the vacuum
of his pockets, "but that last gas bill
cleaned me out completely. eyes, I'll
help you what is it to be ?'
'1'll tell you," quoth Kent, mysteriously
approaching his lips to st. Johns ear.
"Cook some chocolate I've got a cake of
Bakers best vanilla favored"
"How ?''
"Scrape it into hot water, and let it boil
like the deuce have got jolly good
fire in the charcoal pot, back of the big
red curtains where the clay models are"
"But you can't dine off of chocolate"
"Wisely said, Johannes. Look here"
He lifted the skirt of his threadbare vel
vet painting jacket and disclosed vet
eran fowl, rather ragged about the head
and neck, but brave in tail feathers,
"By the beard of the Prophetic roosterr'
said st. John;
at belongs to old Smoyle, the animal
painter" whispered Kent. SCOT it for a
model last week--out of town--left it for
me to feed Boil it."
"Too tough" suggested st. John.
"Not bit, with good hot fire. Chick
en-, chocolate, French bread-theres a
breakfast for king"
s'I know how to make omeletts, if we
could beg, borrow OF steal half dozen
eggs" said st. John hopefully.
"Jones has nestful up stairs that he's
painting into barn-yard interior" said
Kent. But he's had 'em three weeks,
and eggs don't improve by keeping"
"Very well, so I'm to be cook But how
am to get the charcoal fire, after Ive
wrung the roosters neck and hauled out
his feathers.
"You are to come and cough at the door
Then I'll say, in an off-hand sort of manner
you know, "by the way, havn't showr
the fine view of my window" OF course
they'll make rush for the window, ant
then you're to clip through like mischief
Once behind the red curtain, you're al
right"
"But how am to get out again ?'
"I'll contrive way--only for PHYS sak'
make haste ~
''All right you clear out, and I'll serve
you upa breakfast that would do credit t
Soyer himself" cried st. John, tying him
self up in an old sheet like an imprompt,
ghost.
And somewhat exhilerated in mind Mr.
Kent went back to his guests, two cherry
cheek, bright eyed young ladies, who wer,
wondering at the various marvels of sculp
tors studies.
{" How nice it must be here Cousin
Percy - cried Kate Valance. -
"But, isn't it lonesome ?" asked Mar,
Brown.
Just then mysterious cough SOUNDED
outside the door. Kent started up.
"By the way" he said, you have no
seen my view from the window you know
Kate rushed at once to the easement
but Mary pausing, to pick up the shaw
her companion had dropped, had view @
st. John, who prompt to the second, rush