Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1883-09-13


self, "And the right of the matter is
so evident, too. Women are queer y
But presently Polly came back, the
smiles returned to her face once more.
Forgive me, dear" she said. II
lost my temper for just one half-luar-
ter of a second. It's all right now.
Did you say you had given Bridget
warning?"
"Well, yes. That is"
every WELL" said Polly, IN go
and get some iced dmilk and pound-cakc
for you. You must be dreadfully
tired and thirsty after Your long drive
And" she added, demurely. 81 dare
say that there's a great deal of good
sense in your mothers advice"
you'll take it, then?" said Mr. Nor
rison, much relieved.
"lf you say so, DEAR" said the obedi-
ent wife.
But when Mr.. Morrison was smok-
ing in the little porch after tea, Polly
sat down and wrote an atTectionate,
confidential little note to her husband S
uncle. Commodore Chesson, who had
taken fathers place to him since he
was ten years old. She wrote:
"DEAR UNCLE! Do come to me at once. The
roses are in bloom, the cherries ripening on the
trees, and 10 need you so terribly! | want coun
PAULINA MORRISON.
Commodore Chesson smiled ON the
hurried note as he read it.
"What is the matter with the prec-
ious little humming-bird now?" he
said to himself. rs there a little
cloud no bigger than a mans hand
across the horizon of her domestic
bliss? Well, well, will go to her! l
never had daughter, but when l am
with Paulina, l can imagine how a
fathers heart is stirred with the deeps
of tenderness"
He went to Briar Lodge, and he had
long chat with Polly, before her hus-
band came Ecme.
Vincent was glad to see his uncle.
He was always glad to see the bland,
courteous old veteran; but he was n
little mortified when Polly joined
them, after tea, with an infnitessimal
smudge across her nose.
"My darling" said he, what is that
on your face:"
Polly glanced at the glass.
"Oh?" said she, rubbing it off with
her pocket handkerchief; blacks. I've
been doing the kitchen range. Such a
joby'
Vincant cleared his throat with
some embarrassment.
Cant you give us little music'
Polly?' he said.
But Mrs. Morrison shook her head.
Couldn't, possibly said she. 81
ran little splinter into my finger this
morning, scrubbing the kitchen closet
floor, and it has been poulticed ever
since. Besides, since l have been
doing Bridget's share of the cooking, |
never get any time to practice. One
can't do two things at once, you
know"
GIr. Morrison rose quickly.
Shall we go down to the stables ?"
he said to his uncle. "The roam horse
has something the matter with his
foot. Perhaps you could advise me
about it"
But, once arrived at the stables, only
one stunted little lad could be found
in charge of the premises.
"Owen!" Mr.. Vincent called, some
what impatiently; "Owen! What can
have become of that lazy fellow?
Where are you, Owen?"
"Oh," said Commodore Chesson, care
lessly, sit is Owen Linn you are call
ing. I sent him about his business
this afternoon! A great, lazy, hulking
fellow that don't earn his breadl
What do you need of anybody more
than Billy here"
Vincent stared.
"But who is to groom the horsesP p
said he.
'Do it yourselfp' said the commo-
dore, bris1ly. "Why, when l was
your age, I could have groomed a
whole stableful of horses before break
fast every morning, and not even feel
it. An able-bodied man like you has
no business with such an army of re
tainers A man is best served when
he serves himself That is my max
im."
Mr.. Morrison winked, invOluntarily,
as if an unexpected verbal shower-bath
had decended on his head.
"And about that horses foot" said
Commodore Chesson. "It's the shoe
ing, dare say. Nobody seems, nova
days, to understand how to shoe a
horse"
GsyVivop doun hv tho windmill hoe