Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1883-07-19

"Scant Of nine, and the washing all out"
unused thrifty Mrs. Chutter as she scrubbed
the porch. deacon I'll get you to set the
blg tub down cellar. if YOU will"
Certain. Wife responded the deacon
from hi. cart in the door-yard.
There comes kendall's new basket wag-
on. with two women IN it, pursued the lady.
wrlngng her mop. '.lsn't that the horse
that balks
Being in the critical act of emptying a
four gallon bucket of soap, the good man
vouchsafed no reply. When the jellied mass
had qui,ered and splashed INTO the barrel in
waiting he looked up just IN season to see
the gay little pony shy at the cart and 90
tearing down the road
They'll upset They'll be killed Run
after 'em DO something, !" shrleked Mrs.
Chutter.
'.Don'i get excited, wife they're all right
now. That girl drives like man
And picking up his bucket, the moderate
deacon marched off for a second supply of
soap. But though the little incident had
failed 10 shake his nerves, il did make him
ubllylous of his wite's wash tub poised on
the landing of the dim stairway, and as a
natural consequence he put his foot IN it,
The tub rolled; the deacon swayed like a
pestle in a mortar; there was lively sue
cesslon Of bumps, followed by clatter and
a thud, and deacon, tub and bucket strewed
the cellar floor.
"Adab and Abihu ~ calculated the fallen
saint, with sinful energy.
What's up, uncle ~ cried an anxious
voice overhead.
ka, - ~
response. Come and brace me while try
to step"
The owner Of the voice, a fine looking
youth Of one-and-twenty, was already CROP
ing his way among the debris, his aunt in
the rear with the eamphor.
The deacon's attempted locomotion result
ed in groan.
81 must have sprained my ankle, Harvey
If I'd postponed this tub race till after I'd
been my rounds, 'twould have been better
calculation"
"Oh, | wouldn't worry about my rounds,
uncle. What's the hurry ?"
"My customers expect me to-day, that's
the point hate mastery to break nv
word Now there's the widow Cleaves wait
ing for me 10 take her ashes, so she can
scrub after me with the boiling suds, and up
at kendall's they're clean out of soap"
"And not clean without il. eh p laughed
the young man. "See here, uncle; since
you are going to feel so uneasy about disap-
pointing the people, why not send me in
your stead?"
"You, in your fine clothes should
SMILE" mumbled Mrs. Chutter, with the
stopper Of the camphor bottle between her
teeth.
"Why can't my uncle's mantle fall upon
me, auntie? was intending to borrow the
frock."
"Well, if do say it. you've got the Vance
common-sense. Some young men of your
bringing up would be ashamed to drive a
soap cart"
..Humph, Some young men would be
fools" said the deacon, with warmth. NO
body has any call to be ashamed to deliver
such soap as ! make. If you've a mind to
run the team to-day, Harvey, | shall be
obleeged to yOu.'
Fifteen minutes later the worthy deacon
was extending his aching length upon the
sitting room lounge. and gazing through the
open window after his youthful proxy, who,
duly initiated into the mysteries Of the call
ing, was driving away in the big, blue cart
Behind jounced and creaked an empty ash
bin. fanked by two covered barrels Of soap ;
but the swinging seat was clean and com
Portable. commanding fine view Of the sur
rounding country.
A half-mle and more the road wound
through his unce's fertile acres, for Deacon
Chutter was withal farmer. Farming, in
deed, was his chief vocation, soap boiling
being an accessory venture growing out Of
sundry extensive experiments in the use Of
leached ashes as a fertilizer. 1t was one Of
those tuneful mornings in early June when
all nature joins in q glad doxology. The
newly arrived bobolinks, tipsy with glee. car
oiled in the meadows. The orioles. hang
ing their hammocks in the elms. could
scarcely work for singing. Gay breezes
whispered love to the graceful Young clover,
then danced away to flirt with the coy hill
side birches. Everywhere were life and
motion irradiated BY the benignant sun.
For Harvey Vance's study weakened eyes
there was too much glare, too much futter.
He lost no time in putting on his blue Cog
giles. -,
"Who cares if they do make me look like
a frog Y mused he, as he settled them
astride bis aristocratic nose. "Thanks to
them, and to change Of air, my poor optics
are undoubtedly improving. shall be back
TO college BY fall Ha! ha! if the fellows
could only see me now :"
AID here. u IL ia1nita sHspzias q slaid