Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-02-27
Bill Burton's Ball Story.

One evening a crowd of young people
congregated ut Bill Burton's rancho,
and, when the first quadrille was over,
he took stand in front of the fire, and,
parting his cOat-tails in q comfortable
manner, remarked:
"That wuz purity neat dancing; you
all know the step and handle yer hoofs
purity peert, but some Of you young folks
can't hold er candle to sum old uns I've
seed, an that kinder reminds me Of old
Widow Harkins I knowed back in Geor
gy, when I wus boy"
ooh, tell us about her, Uncle Bill, !"
exclaimed chorus of voices.
''Wall, she WIS ther all fredest &C
tivest old heifer I ever knowed. She
lived up in the Peach Branch settle
ment, nigh to Bill Browns, an wus kin
aunt Or suthin'-to ther Millers from
Albany. When knowed her, she wus
crawlin' on to so years old, but she wus
tougher n er pecan sapling, an the way
that ERE old critter knocked dust that
June day wus er caution to er mustang
colt"
s'Was she scared. Uncle Blly?" in
quired the crowd.
"Wall, now, guess she wus kinder
skeert. You see one day I had jes' cum
outer the field from plowin' and turned
old Job in ther lot. Durn that old mule,
he had jes' busted a new pair Of traces
to finders tryin' to kick er parcel
of humble bees of'ern his hind
legs. He was alters gettin' in a yaller
jackets nest or suthin' else, an, consarn
his ole pictur, he busted my left leg
outer jint jes' when camp-meetin' WIS
cumin' on bout er week arter that. As
wus goin' on to say, I wus huntin'
round er stable, gettin' up er new set of
gear, when I heered the derndest yellin'
an er bell win up therlane, an it 'peared
to me it wus cumin' closer all the time,
so I CHM on the fence an gin to look.
Their fust thing I seed wuz er big cloud
er dust, an the next thing my eyes Lit
on wus Bill Browns ole brindle bull jes'
er rippin' an er rearin' an er liffin' up
his tail an er chasin' ole Widow Har-
kins fur everything she wuz worth.
Thar wrls ther bull with his head down
an tail up, an thar wus ole Widow
Harkins, with her balmoral histed, jes'
er clatterin' down Their lane like
er couple of race. horses. I warn't
much pious in those days, an gettin'
kinder excited, I TUX off my hat an
yelled, sSling out yer best hoof; go it,
old gal, till you make Their gap in the
calf-pen, an thar you're safe. When I
hollered to her it braced her up. She
puckered her mouth like ther butt end
of 'er persimmon, histed her balmoral
'er little higher, an I tell yer it fairly
made me sweat to see ther way that ole
citizen did climb over dirt. She sorter
looked back over one shoulder an saw
that bull about ten feet behind her,
an still 'er cummin' 'er rippin' an
rearin. But, feelin' she was safe, she
jest pulled her balmoral over her head,
an the ole bull stood still, astonished,
an went off kinder'n kitten. I would
jest like to see some Of you quadrille
dancers try to take the rag off Widow
Harkins.
"You, Bill p shouted his wife, in dis
may. He stopped dead short, and there
was pause long, dreary pause, I'M
til one of the young men looked out of
the window and said he thought it would
rain before morning. The young ladies
said they thought it would, too, and old
Bill Burton went down to the cow-pen
to see if the calves had been turned
out, and never came back in the parlor
again that night