Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1883-08-17
GaIes arn Sketfbes.
LOVE WASHES.

1 Certain. wife," responed the deacon
from his cart in the dooryard.
There comes Kendall's new basket
wagon with two women in it." pursued
the good lady. wringing her mop. Isn't
that the horse that balks ?''
Being in the critical act of emptying a
four gallon bucket of soap, the deacon
vouchsafed no reply. When the jellled
mass had quivered and splashed into the
barrel in waiting. he looked up just in sea-
son 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's shrieked Mrs.
Clutter.
Don't get excited. wife; they're all
right now. That girl drives like a man."
And picking up his bucket. the moder-
ate deacon started for second supply of
SOAP But, though the little incident had
failed to shake his nerves, it did make him
Obliyious OF his wife's washtub, poised on
the landing OF the dim stairway. and as
natural con- e1uence he put his foot in +
The tub rolled the deacon swayed like
pestle in a mortar there was a lively sue
cession OF bumbs, followed by CHATTER
and thud, and deacon, tub and bucket
strewed the cellar floor.
"Adab and AbIhu ~ calculated the fall
len saint with sinful energy.
whats up, uncle ?'' cried an anxious
voice overhead.
Il can tell better what's down." was
the grim response. Come and brace me
while try to STEP"
The owner of the voice, a fine-lOOking
youth OF one -and-twenty, was already
cropping his way among the debris, his
aunt following with the camphor.
The deacon's attempted locomotion re-
suited in groan.
IL must have sprained my ankle. Har-
vey. II I'd postponed this tub race till
after I'd been my rounds, t would have
been better calculation"
"Oh, | wouldn't worry about my rounds,
uncle What's the hurry?'
"My customers expect me to- day-thats
the point. hate mastery to break my
word. Now there's the widow Cleaves
waiting for me to take her ashes, so she
can clean up after me with the boiling
suds, and up at Kendall's they're clean
out of soap"
And not clean without it. eh p"
laughed the young man. ''See
here. uncle since yOn are going to feel so
uneasy about disappointing the people,
why not send me in your stead ?"
You in your fine clothes l should
smile,'' mumbled Mrs. Clutter. the stop
per OF the camphor bottle between her
teeth.
"Why can't uncle's mantle fall upon
me, auntie? | was intending to borrow
the frock."
well, i'll do say it you've got the
Vance common sense. Some young men
of your bringing up would be ashamed
tie drive soap cart"
Hump! some young men would be
FOOLS said the deacon, with warmth
Nobody has any cause to be ashsmed to
deliver such soap as make. If you've
a mind to run the team to-day, Harvey,
| shall be much obliged to YOU
Fifteen minutes later the worthy
deacon was extending his aching length
upon the sitting room lounge, gazing
through the open window after the youth
full proxy. who. duly initiated into the
mysteries of the calling, was driven away
in the big blue cart. Behind iounced and
creaked an empty ash-bin, tlanked by two
+ covered barrels of soap but the swing
ing seat was clean and comfortable. and
commanded fine view of the surround
ing country.
A halt mile and more the road wound
through his uncle's fertile acres. for Dea-
con Clutter was withal farmer. Indeed,
farming was his chief vocation. soap boil
ing being an accessory venture growing
out of sundry extensive experiments in
the use of leached ashes as a fertilizer.
It was one OF those tuneful mornings in
early June when all nature joins in glad
doxology. The newly arrived bobOlinks,
tipsy with glee, carolled in the meadows.
The orioles, hanging their hammocks in
the elms, could scarcely work for singing
Gay breezes whispered love to the grace
full Young clover, then danced away to
flirt with the coy hillside birches. Every
where was light and motion. irradicated
by the benignant sun. For Harvey
Vance's study-weakened his eyes there
was even to much glare. too much flutter
He lost no time in putting on his blue
goggles.
"Who cares if they do make me look
like frog?" he unused, as he settled them
astride his aristOcratic nose. Thanks to
them and the change OF air, my poor OPP
tics are undoubtedly improving. | shall
be back in college by fall. Ha! ha. if the
fellows could only see me nowi'
And here to the infinite surprise of staid
Doboin. his new master broke into roll
licking class song a song abruptly end
ed as turn in the road revealed near
farm house.
III peddle soap. III peddle it with
due decorum." soliliquized the youth.
knocking upon the back door with the
handle of his whip
To have seen the capable air with which
he measured ashes. bushel after bushel
giving in exchange money or gallons of
soap, according to the customers desire.
one would have pronounced him bred to
the soap business. Since his months rus
tication at his Aunt Clutter he had made
the acquaintance Of most OF the farmers
along the river. and these expressed their
! qualification at the fact that "a Judges
son wasn't afraid to work - but outside
the parish limits his triumphal march ter
minated. lie was stranger in strange
land. One man asked if ne had bought
out the deacon; a second hoped he wasn't
intending to run an opposition team; and
the loyal Widow Cleaves could scarcely
be persuaded to surrender her ashes, be-
cause, forsooth. she preferred to trade