Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-05-15
DUFF AND THE BEE.
A Sabbath Tale Of Nature and
knowledge. p
xt,cS T~.x

From the San Francisco Chronicle.]
The Duff family, pater, mater and lit
tie ones, picnicked on the beach beyond
Fort Point yesterday. 81 do love ma
thure," remarked Patrick Duff, who is a
proud and frequent voter of the Seventh
ward, as he unhitched the dray-horse
from the family carryall, which bore
the family arms, "Duff's Xpress. y
"The cares ay political loft and gineral
expressing require that man shud relax
his moind midst the grand reposh av
tireless nathure's reshtful bosom. I'll
ring that sentiment into me next warrud
club spache, Mary Helen; be me sowl,
I will. Lave hould av that cowld boiled
ham, James Henry, or I'll throw ye into
the trackless tide"
The lunch basket was safely deposited
in the shade of a rock, the youthful
Duffs disported bare-legged in the mild
surf, and Mr.. and Mrs. Duff wandered,
free from care, DER the green hillside.
Presently Mrs. Duff discovered bum
ble-bee in the deep recess of wild flower
she had plucked. Alas, she had never
seen bumble-bee before LUX here,
Patrick, she exclaimed, "Yez never saw
the loike av that in Kerry, Pat"
Mr.. Duff was too much of q politician
to commit himself as to his knowledge,
or. lack of it, without first considering
the subject. Taking the flower from his
wife's hand, he eyed the bee critically
and then assented: cit is purity bur-
rid, Mary Helen" Then he carefully
.o:o1~o1 IL "a Loo ,,,4 &c A., 4rxx,o~ I,x-,.. -,
his thumb and forefnger and repeated
slowly:
eyes, it is very purity burrid;
think it is a."
Before Mr.. Duff had explained what
he was pleased to think the bee was, he
had dashed the flower in his amazed
wife's face, jumped excitedly in the air,
landed hatless and with hair erect. and
again repeated, still slowly, but with
popping, glazing eyes, and in a voice
husky with pain and anger:
''It is purity burrid, but, holy MUIR
Their, how hot its little fut is r
''Patrick Duff, have you been hitting
that whisky-bottle in the lunch basket ?"
exclaimed the indignant Mrs. Duff.
Patrick, in dumb bewilderment, gazed
on his swelling and infamed thumb and
then at the wife of bis bosom before he
replied:
"Hod yez run yer needle through that
burrid, Mary Helen, befoor yez CAV it
to me?'
"Don't yez be too funny, Pat" said
Mrs. Duff, testify.
".Shure, I'm not funny at all, Mary
Helen, and yez needn't look that way at
me, nather, or I'll break yer vartebr@, :"
said Mr.. Duff, getting madden as his
thumb got bigger.
"Yez had better not be thrying your
thricks wild me, or I'll land ye wan side
av that ugly jaw of yours that 'ull tach
we who is boss of the Duff family" Mr..
Duff's voice rose as he realized the full
extent of his hurt.
"Yez have been drinking yerself into
transitory jim-jams, Pat, and yez had
better Shape it off before LUNCH" replied
the lady in conciliatory tone, which
only served to aggravate the gentle
mans temper into exact sympathy with
his thumb, for with an irresistible i'm
pulse he made good his threat, and in a
moment the sweet solitude of the spot
and day was rudely broken by blows
which fell with unconjugal force and ra-
pidity on both the heads of the Duff
family, while the humble bee hummed
drowsiiy of, moralizing over greatness
of evils when unknown.