The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1877-04-12
GOLDEN LOCKS.
The story of Il switch.

"What do l know about such mat
ters ?" said Squire Postlethwaite, rump
ling up his Saxon brown hair into a crest
on the very top of his head.
The squire was standing in the middle
of the sunny sitting-room-a room aglov
with wreaths of autumn leaves and bios
somlng geraniums, with wood fire OF
the hearth, which exhaled q faint piny
perfume from the resinous logs which
were cracking there, and the biggest
tortoisesllell cat in New Jersey asleep il
front of the blaze. And the squire's
wife was balancing herself on tiptoe tc
sew a button on his shirt bosom-a
malicious button which had flown of
without the slightest previous notice, q
very Mephistopheles in mother of-pearl.
The squire was tall and big and easily
wheedled; the squire's better half was
round an petite and possessed of good
deal of feminine diplomacy; and, as a
matter Of course, Mrs. Postlethwaite
conquered.
ooh, my dear, it's the simplest thing
in the world" said she.
"But it's so perfectly absurd p per-
sisted the squire. 1.-The idea of my &c
and asking fora switch !"
Its done every day, my DEAR" said
Mrs. Postlethwaite, deftly breaking the
thread. And really my hair is getting
50 thin, what with crimping and fr.zzing;
and everybody else wears a false braid,
or bunch of cllrls, or something, and !
am positively singular without one.
And wouldn't mind waiting until 1 go
up to town in January, if it wasn't for
Fanny Leslie's charade party. Every
body will be there, and of course you
want me to look as well as any one else.
don't you, dear?"
The squire could not gainsay this
leading proposition. He had married
pretty young country girl for love, and
during all the five years of their welded
life the torch had burned clear upon the
altar of his heart
"Of course 1 do" said he, heartily.
"Then you'll bring me the switch,
won't you?" coaxed Mrs, Postlethwaite.
" If it must be, 1 suppose it must be, 4"
assented the squire, with a grimace.
And when he drove off to the depot, he
carried in pocket case, next to his
heart, lock of his wife's faxen hair
not as keepsake, but as sample.
" "Thirty-six inches long, at least, +"
Mrs. Postlethwaite called after him.
" And crimped little at the top, if it's
not charged extra for"
Squire Postlethwaite didn't go to the
city every day. AS general thing, his
peach farm in New Jersey occupied the
most of his time and attention; but when
he did mingle with the gay metropolitan
world, he resolved to enjoy himself to
the utmost. So he engaged room at
the most expensive and aristocratic hotel
he could find, visited the Academy of
Design, where he didn't understand the
pictures at all, and went in the evenings
to the theater, where he cried over the
tragedy, and laughed his vest buttons off
at the brisk little comedy that served as
an afterpiece, and was little abashed at
the ballet. And it is most probable that
he would have forgotten his wife's COM
mission entirely if, in the process of
searching his pocket case for note
which he was to present for payment at
a city bank the next day, he hadn't
CHANGED to come across the tress of shin
ing gold.
Hallo" said the squire, shifting his
knee with one hand, "here's Polly's
hair And | must go and buy the switch
tomorrow, or there'll be the deuce and
all to pay"
He went that afternoon to dine with
old Mr.. Ponsonby at Delmonico' 's-for
the squire had all a child's delight in
gliding and fresco and lights. Old Mr.
Ponsonby rather discouraged the switch
business when, over their modest bottle
of claret, the squire broached his pro-
posed errand of the following morning
81 wouldn't said old Mr.. Ponsonby,
shaking his head.
Wouldnt?" echoed the squire
"Why not?"
"It's running a great risk" said Mr..
POnsonby, oracularly. "Tm told that
yellow fever and smallpox, and all that
sort of thing, are disseminated to an
alarming extent through the medium of
false hair"
Squire Postlethwaite opened wide his
eyes and mouth.
"Ihey cut off the hair of hospital
cases, and sell it to pay expenses, You
see" added Mr.. Ponsonby, lowering his
voice.
Nol" interrogated the squire.
"Fact," nodded the old gentleman.
"And, besides, they import deal of it
from foreign countries, where the peo-
pie are in no wise noted for cleanliness
or health.p
"Never heard of such thing in my
life, asseverated Squire Postlethwaite.
"And the only way to be quite sure
about what you're buying is to see it cut
from the human head YOURSELF" asserted
Mr.. Ponsonby, peeling a banana.
But don't see how that can he
DONE" hesitated the Jersey peach
farmer,