The Grange advance. [volume] (Red Wing, Minn.) 1873-1877, 1877-04-11
Golden Locks.
The Story of a Switch.

ling up his Saxon Brown hair into a
crest on the very top of his head.
The Squire was standing in the mid.
die of the sunny sitting-room-a room
aglow with wreaths Of autumn leaves
aud poisoning geraniums, with wood
fire on the hearth, which exalted a
faint piny perfume from the resinous
logs which were cracking there, and
the biggest tortoise-shell cat in New
Jersey asleep in front of the blaze.
And the Squire's wife was balancing
herself on tiptoe to sew button on his
shirt bosom-a malicious button which
had flown off without the slightest pre-
vious notice, a very MephistOpheles in
mother.of.pearl. The Squire was tall
and big and easily wheedled the
Souires better half was round and
petite and possessed Of y good deal Of
feminine diplomacy and, Us Il matter
of course, Mrs. Postlethwaite con-
luereti.
sob. my dear,it's the simplest thing
in the vorld,' said she.
s'But it's so perfectly absurd!' per-
sistet! the Squire. "The idea Of my
going into one of those broadway places
and asking for. switch!
cit s done every day my dear, said
Mrs. Postlethwaite, deity breaking
the thread. "And really, my hair is
getting SO thin, what with crinping
and frizzing; and everybody else wears
a false braid, OF a bunch of curls, or
something. and am positively Singh
lar without one. And I wouldn' t
mind waiting until I go up to town in
January, if it wasn't for Fanny Les.
lies 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.
s.Of course do - he replied, heart
lily.
:',rhen you'll bring mo the switch,
wont you.' coaNed Mrs. Postleth-
waite.
''If it must be, I suppose it must
NC, ttoScACcu Ci1o Ol"AAN' "AoAA ~
grinace.
And when he drove off to the depot,
he carried in a pocket case next to his
heart, lock Of his wife's faxen hair
not as keepsake, but as a sample.
Thirty-six inches long, at least,
Mrs. Postlethwaite called after him.
'sAnd crimped a little at the top, if it's
not charged extra for
Squire Postlethwaite didn't go to
the city every day. As a general
thing, his peach farm in New Jersey
occupied the most of his time and at.
tention: but when he did mingle with
the gay metropolitan world, he re-
solved to enjoy himself to the utmost.
So he engaged room at the most eX-
pensive and aristocratic hotel he could
ind. visited the Academy Of Design,
where he didn't understand the pic
lures at all, and went in the evening
to the theatre, where he cried over
the tragedy, and laughed his vest but
tons off at the brisk little comedy that
served as an afterpiece, and was lit
tie abashed at the ballet. And it is
most probable that he would have
forgotten his wife's commission en-
tirely if, in the process of searching
his pocket case for note which he
was to present for payment at u city
bank the next day, he hadn't CHANGED
to come across tress of shining gold.
ssHallo!" said the Squire, shifting
his knee with one hand, "here's Pol
ly's hair! And l must go and buy the
switch tomorrow, or there'n 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
preached his proposed errand of the
following morning.
81 wouldn't said old Mr.. Ponsonby,
shaking his head.
':Wouldn echoed the Squire.
s'Why not?''
'sIt's running great risk, said Mr..
Ponsonby, oracularly. I'm 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.
They cut off the hair of hospital
cases, and sell it to pay expenses, yon
see,' added Mr.. Ponsonby, lowering
his voice.
'No?'' Intercepted the Squire.
"Fact,'' nodded the old gentleman.
Sand, besides, they import a deal of
it from foreign countries, where the
people are in no wise noted for clean
illness or health
"Never heard of such thing in my
1ife.'' asseverated Squire POStleth-