The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1882-11-03
HELP WANTED OOAOHMAN."
BY LII. sENARENs.

II discarded John to-day, Mamie,
and have advertised for new coach
man" said the very corpulent Mr..
Hunt, as he drew a copy of the daily
paper from his pocket.
s'Why did you send John away, pa
pap" asked the pretty young girl.
Because" replied her father, with
an angry glance at her across the par
Tor table, II discovered that he was in
league with you, having driven you to
the park, where you frequently met
Tom Lane, whom / forbade continuing
paying his attentions 60 you. And
mind. Mamie. if ! catch you playing
me any more tricks OF that sort. of you
60, bag and baggage. TO some Catholic
convent, where you will but see the
light once a day, and then only for re-
creation"
u Papa, we discussed the subject of
my love for poor Tom at some length
before, and it is unkind of you to refer
to it so heartlessly."
Then said the old gentleman,
grimly, ''you should not be foolish
enough to waste your heart on so abom-
Unable young scamp! If you marry
ut ALL it must be man who can afford
the Injuries / have always given you.
Tom Lane is merely clerk, and can
barely live decently alone on his paltry
income.n
you were no better off than he when
you married mamma"
There, there! That will do, missr'
Numbered the old gentleman, striking
the table with his fist to emphasize his
words. ''What had before you were
born is not the question. 1t is sufficient
for me that you have all yourlfe enjoy
ed the necessities my present wealth
procured, and it sufiices that ! am sem
sible enough to look out for your future
welfare, for your own sake. Now my
friend. Bullwinkle, has asked permis-.
sion to COURT
sob, my graciousr' interrupted
Mamie, stopping her dainty ears with
her small. shapely, pink and white
fingers in q paroxysm of dismay. "Ihat
old fogy?'
"But, Mamie
II won't, WON'T Pd sooner marry
Your grandfather firstr'
Il tell YOU he is rich, and"
II don't care if he is! hate the old
wretch--so therer'
lord bless mel gasped the old gen
tleman, scrambling to his feet, in cold
Precipitation at this onslaught and his de-
feat. ''She has got tongue like q
lash,n he muttered. but | tell you,
miss he exclaimed aloud, rs he polish
ed his bald head with his handkerchief
energetically, II have my eye on you,
and you shall not fool me again. No,
ma AMIN on the lookout now!'
That's rightl'' blazed Mamie, with
shortened breath flashing eyes, while
her vclvety cheeks glowed crimson.
Watch me hire a detective to watch
me-do. Tie me up in q room-starve
me if you will, or beat mel shall not
complain"
.'Ohr' groaned her father. dismally;
''she's madv' and he rushed out of the
room. ''She's n perfect vixenf' he
gasped.
He waited q minute, and as all was
profoundly still, he softly turned the
knob and cautiously poked his head in
to the room again. If he expected an
assault he was mistaken; for, instead. u
touching sight met his view. His ca
PRECIOUS little daughter was kneeling be-
side the lounge, and seemed to be weep
ing convulsively. His heart smote him,
and look of compassion crossed his
face, for he dearly loved his motherless
daughter. There was a tall pier-glass
opposite her, and he casually glanced
at her reflection. A look of disgust
crossed his face, for she was not cry
ing, as he supposed, but laughing so
hard at his recent discontinue that she
could scarcely stifle her merriment.
1t was with the most profound skep-
ticism of the reverence and obedience
of daughters in general to fond fathers
that the old gentleman retreated quietly
from the parlor and rushed upstairs to
his own apartments.
That very afternoon Mamie wrote
Tom long letter, secretly posted it,
and he received il in due time. The re-
suit of this was n meeting of the lovers
the following morning; but, unfortun-
ately, Mr.. Hunt accidently met them,
and; marching his wilful daughter
home, babe Tom begone, and never
dare speak to her again.
In answer to letter the old gentle
man had written to an applicant for the
position of coachman, that afternoon he
met the man at the stable door. He
was thick-set Celt. having fiery red
hair, n red frame of whiskers around
his dirty face. which harmonized nicely
with his red nose, and was attired in q
shabby, thread-bare suit of clothes much
too large for him. h
"Your recommendation is unexcep-
tionally good,'' commented Mr.. Hunt,
CHANGING at the, paper the man had Civ
en- him.
''Bedad, sur. dbruv the ould mast
hers horses this tin year"
''But why did you leave his employP"
sBekasc / had to, yer amer"