The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1882-08-04
THE ENGERS.
SO Pop I"

"Popp
"Yes'm."
" Take that big basket with the broken
bale, an dig me bout peck o. pota-
toes. Look lively now. Don't stand
there staring at me like dumb thing.
Fly around"
"Yes'm."
Pop, a thick-set little fellow, black as
the ace of spades, seized the basket Miss
Faithful Sharpe designated with her lean
fore-fnger, and started out
In the garden, Andy, Miss Faithful's
nephew, and the cause of much of her
tribulation, was engaged in wedding.
He averaged one weed a minute. At
that rate it would take abouc three
months of constant work to clear the
beds. But Andy didn't care. He
hated work, and it wouldn't have dis
tressed him if the garden had remained
unweeded from the beginning to the end
OF the year. His aunts example, and
her many maxims, and long lectures on
the nobility of honest toll never had any
perceptible effect upon him.
"What are you going to do, Pop ?" he
asked as his co-sufferer, who viewed
things pretty much as MARS Andy did,
EMERGED from the house.
"Goin' to dig taters."
Digging potatoes had always been
hGtefui work in Andy's eyes before. But
nov Is did not strike him so. Anything
was better than wedding.
"Say, Pop, I'll dig the potatoes, if
you'll weed some"
Pop shook his head
Can't, Mars Andy" he answered.
sole Missus, she tole me I'd got to 90
and get desc yere taters my own self, an
not stop foolin' roun' with nobody. She
says she spec Mars Andy gwine to ak me
to weed, an so she tole me not to stop
nohow."
This was delivered very glibly, for Pop
hated wedding as much as Andy did, and
never found any difficulty in framing an
excuse.
go, pshaw," said Andy, who did not
think of doubling Pops veracity, know
ing as he did his aunt's opinion of his
industry. That's the way she always
talks. She don't mean nothin'. Give
me the basket"
"l dasn't, Mars Andy" and Pop chung
with well-simulated SILVER of fear to
the broken bail. cole Missus, she'd
take an tar de head square ofFn me,
deed she would"
"She Now you know you're gassin',
Pop. There amt as much fight in her
as she makes ont. But go long. l be-
lieve I'd druther weed anyhow" said
Andy, making the best of the inevitable.
81 only know one thing you're that
mean Jew wouldn't buy you.
Pop proceeded TO the potato patch
with heavy heart. Andy's last words
cut deep. He wondered how he could
make peace, and turned out the contents
of his pockets, thinking he might find
something to propitiate the friend whose
friendship was so dear to him. But
nothing appeared of sufficient value 10
serve as peace otfering-an alligator's
tooth, Il mathematics rattle. big cone,
piece of string, the core of a turnip, a
glass button. and piece of rusty iron.
For none of these things would Andy
care. He had plenty like them only
better.
Two boys, in close conversation. came
to the rail fence, taking the road which
led to the river, half mile off. Pop
pricked up his ears on hearing some
firing one of them said, and ran to re-
peat it to Andy, forgetting, in his ex-
element, all about their recent differ
ence
say, Mars Andy. now's our chance.
We can get chen wild dat Bob Harris
and Tim Waters for stealth our cle'es
when we was in a swimmin' las Sat'dsy.
Dey's gone down now to go in DER
selves"
GOOD luck I" cried Andy. I" / didn't
believe we'd get chance for revenge so
soon. You get through your potatoes,
Pop, and let's be of. Well show 'em
that stealth clothes is trick we can
play at too"