The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1877-05-17
Henry Digs a Stump.

|
Old Henry had just planted himself
down for a smoke in the sunshine at the
back door, yesterday, when Mrs. Archi-
bald, who was whitewashing the back
porch and keeping an eye on the girl
ironing in the kitchen with her ironing
board on the window sill, remarked:
81 think you've promised me about
two dozen times you'd dig out that old
peach tree stump there, an now | want
you to do it,
"Ain't got no mattock," growled Hen
~. Am / a grounding, that | should
dig up trees with my fingers?"
:" don't care what particular kind of
a hog you are, an that amt no excuse,
because I've borrowed a mattock for
you. Now dig in, there, that's a good
man, and don't upset this bench I'm a
standin' on, or you'll bust the dog
Henry opened his mouth to object,
but she waved the long-handled white
wash brush around carelessly, and de-
posted dab of its spring purity on his
bald head. He looked in her eye, and
concluded he had better 90 to work.
He rolled up his sleeves, spit on his
hands, and hit the stump a gentle kick
with his foot.
"This things tighter in here nor a
horses TOOTH
"That's the reason | want it out, -
said Mrs. A. shortly, as she worked
around difficult corner with her brush
Henry dug a little hole about the obnox-
ious stump, stuck his mattock under it
and pulled; but it didn't come. ever
lastingly hang the thing he muttered,
and hit it a revengeful bat with the mat
took, which useful tool at once flew back
and brought him a most awful rap on
the shin.
"Oh! merciful Peter, blast it all :;
Ouch!'' and sitting down he caressed
the damaged leg, and the dog who came
around to sympathize got an unneces-
sary welt on the ear.
Mrs. Archibald looked the other way
and piled her brush vigorously, all the
while shaking like a tin-panful of calf s
foot jelly, till Henry observed, with con-
centrated acrimony:
Yes, woman like. You'd persuade
fellow to lame himself for life, an then
stand up there an laugh an shake at
him like crazy old puddin'.''
"What's that?'' and she turned sud-
denly-too suddenly, in fact, for the
bench turned, too. "Oh! catch me,
| Henry, DEAR
Damtido," and Henry commenced
to crawl off like turtle scared at thun-
der. He was too late. She made wild
sweep in the air with the whitewash
brush, bringing it down with great We
hemence on his head. The bench went
down on the much abused innocence of
the dog, and Mrs. Archibald sat in the
back window with suddenness that
burst the lower sash, knocked down
their ironing-board, and dropped five
pound iron on the girls foot, who
set up howl that brought in Mrs. Ok
toby and Mrs. Crownsheet to see what
under the sun the Archibalds were fight
ing about now. Mrs. A. in the meantime
| slipped off the window sill with both
hands in the warm whitewash, and look
ed up to see Henry rubbing his head
with one hand and his shin with the
other, while a smile spread over his face
that was like a tidal wave of thankful
ness. This was by several degrees too
much. She bounded to her feet, her face
suffused with whitewash, and went for
his hair, forgetting the experience of
fifteen years, that should have taught
her he hadn't any, and Henry fled down
the alley, feeling her slippery fingers
sliding over his skull like the lips of a
cow who has grabbed pumpkin to big
for her mouth. He went through the
gate without waiting to open it, follow
ed by heartfelt kick that missed its
object, and caused its owner to sit down
with lamentable emphasis on the slip
perry bricks.
She gathered herself up and looked
vengefully at Henry leaning Imply
against a neighbours fence.
Oh! you disheartenin' old delu-
sion," and she shook calsomined fist
at him, ''if it wasn't for losin dav right
in the middle of house cleanin' time, I'd
introduce you to your own funeral in
less than five minutes. ''-Easton Free
Press.
THE people of Portland, Me-, have de-
cided literary tastes. They have stolen