The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1881-04-16
THE TROUBLE CAUSED BY AN OLD
RAG MAN.


There is an old adage to the effect
that woman is at the bottom of every
trouble in this world of ours. Taking
McSwyny Court as smaller sphere ex-
isting within and epcircled by greater
orbit, and we find that the adage will
hold good to its application therein.
Dionysius McSwyny, after his expert
ence recently, is no doubt fully pre-
pared to confirm the truth of the prov
erb above referred to, for he has been
in great trouble. brought about and
concocted by his wife, Anastasia, al
though without any malice aforethought
or premeditated design on the lady's
part, she being the innocent cause of
the whole row; and the second agent of
the fomenting Of the disturbance has
been pair Of trousers. Now, a pair
of trousers are not troublesome in
themselves, unless ill-made or too tight
for comfort, but these particular trous-
ers have been the means of raising the
deuce, in the McSwynian household, and,
as consequence. in McSwyny Court.
1t seems that Dionysius had pair of
blue trousers, which. for some months
back he has discarded wearing, having
donned an entire suit of black cheviot,
which the trousers would not match,
and, therefore. were laid aside. They
hung on peg in one of the McSwyn-
ian bedrooms, and were rapidly be-
coming useless save from the utilitarian
standpoint of the old rag man. Anas-
tasia McSwyny, being of an economical
disposition, got tired of seeing the
trousers hanging on peg and of no
earthly use to the owner. her husband,
so that, upon a certain morning of last
week, when Dominick Philethus McGru-
der, the junkman of McSwyny Court,
went by the McSwynian domicile with
his ringing bells changing over his junk
cart, Anastasia went to the door and
called him.
.' Good mornin', Mrs. McSwyny,"
said McGruder, with smile, but never
pausing for breath as he went on:
"Rags-an' -bottles-to-sell! any ould
r-a-g-sr
.'Good mornin', Mr.. McGruder,"
responded Anastasia; how do you do
to-day?''
''Quitc well. ma am, thank We. How's
the ould man? Rags-an-bottles-to-sell!
any ould r-a-g-sr'
Hes nicely, Mr.. McGruder," an
swered Mrs. McSwyny. "Pve an ould
pair of trousers here I'd like to sell We. /"
"All right, ma'am," responded Nc
Gruder, taking the article and examin-
ing it closely. Flows your daughters,
Mary Ann and AnnyP Rags-an' bot
tles-to-sell! any ould r-a-g-s!'
They're well, Mr.. McGruder, an
how much are the trousers worth, an
is your wife in good health?" answered
and queried Mrs. McSwyny cordially.
40, she's all right, ma'am, an I'm
glad to hear ye're all well, but all can
give We for the trousers is twenty-five
cints. Rags-an'- bottles-to-sell! any ould
r-a-g-sr'
Twinty-five cintsr' echoed Mrs.
McSwyny, in establishments. els that
all yell give me for handsome blue
trousers belongin' to suit Dionysius
paid fifteen dollars for to order of little
Tooley, the tailor, only six months ago.
an foine fit they were, more betoken
the coat an vesht were so tight across
the waist as to burst the first day he
wore 'cm!'
swell, ma'am,n went on the Nc
Gruder, soothingly, "d'ye moind, they
is only good for ould rags now, though
1 might sell thin to Solomon Isaacs,
the ould clo' man on the block above.
IN make it fifty, but not clint more.
an thin it may be losin' Specialization.
Rags-an'- bottles-to-sell! Any ould
r-a-g-sr' e
..Well, take thim," responded Mrs.
McSwyny; they're no good to Diony-
sius any more, an Pm sure | can't
wear 'em.n
q You're the first woman ever heerd
acknowledge that thin," loosely an
swered the McGruder, as he threw the
trousers into his cart. "Tin, twenty,
thirty, forty, fifty cents. There We are,
ma'am; good day, Mrs. McSwyny.
Rags-an' -bottles-to-sell! Any ould
r-a-g-sr'
An old junkman trudged along with
his cart, singing his invitation to trade,
while Mrs. McSwyny went indoors re-
joicing in the possession of fifty cents
additional pin-money. 1t flashed across
her mind at the last moment that pos
sibly Dionysius might have left some
important papers in the pockets, or per-
haps even money, and she FASTENED to
the door again intending to call McGru-
der hack. But he had long since dis
appeared from view, and Mrs. McSwyny
was forced to return comforting herself
with the reflection that she was possibly
mistaken in her supposititious fears.
Two days afterwards. Dionysius was
looking. curiously about the bedroom,
evidently hunting for something, when
Mrs. McSwyny passed by the door lead
ing to the kitchen.
g Anastashia." called out Dionysius,
"did you see air an ould blue trousers
o. mine hanging up hereP"
"A blue trousersg' echoed Mrs. Nc
Swyny. sDo ye mane that dirty ould
thing we've had hangin' there for a
month backr'
THAT dirty ould thing is jist the wan
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