Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1883-03-14
A GOOD SQUASH TRADE.

Squire Hapgood had the prettiest
daughter and biggest squash of any man
Ia the town In which ne resided.
His daughter was plump, buxom and
eighteen, and bore the uame of Maggie.
His squash was of that variety known
as the Hubbard, and he intended to ex-
hIbit it at the ensuing autumnal town
fair, where he fondly hoped and be-
ieved it would be awarded the first
premium.
On his daughter and his vegetable the
squire lavished all OF his affection, but
alas! that my pen could record it
the vegetable got by far the larger part
He loved Maggie as Brutus loved Caesar,
but he loved the squash as Brutus loved
Rome.
Now, IN my opinion, pretty girl is of
more value than a squash, however big
the squash may be; and so thought
Hiram Hardy. He was a young farmer,
and was a nelghbor of the squire. He
was dead in love with Maggie. and Mag
gle was dead IN love with him. He
visited her twice or thrice week, but
he might as well have stayed at home
Cor any pleasure that he derived from
his visits. Not one time Ill twenty did
he get chance to exchange more than
dozen words with her. No sooner would
he make his appearance at her home
than the squire would take him out into
the garden to see "that SQUASH, and
there he would keep him hour after
hour talking squash to him until his
brain would fairly reel.
at length one day Hiram was FORUM
ate enough to find his beloved alone.
Here was an opportunity to propose,
and he was not slow to avail himself of
IL. Maggie, blushing and radiant, re-
ferred him to her father.
That very evening Hiram called upon
the squire. He found the old gentle
man toasting his heels before a CHEEKY
ire. Beside him stood pitcher of
cider, and IN his hand was weekly pa
per, a journal devoted to agriculture.
Hearing the young man enter, he lifted
his eyes from the page, first taking care
TO mark his place with his finger.
g Howdedoo, Hiram % he cried in his
usual loud, hearty voice, as he recog-
nized the visitor. Take a cheer
Hiram returned the salutation, and
then deposited himself in a chair which
Maggie FASTENED to bring him.
Have some cider 90 asked the old
man.
Well, I don't care if I do, y returned
Hiram, nothing 10th.
Maggie filed large tumbIer with the
refreshing beverage, and handed it to
her lover, who drained it in a business
like manner.
You've come just in the nick o. time, Z"
said the squire, turning to his paper.
"Eh ?" said Hiram.
just IN time to hear an account Of
new-fangled way of killing squash bugs.
I'll read it to you. y
Hiram cast despairing glance at his
oharmer, and receiveda sympathetic one
IN return. Then he tipped his chair
against the wall, clasped his hands to-
gether above his head, and resigned him
self to the inevitable.
Squire Hapgood prided himself on his
eIocution. It was of jerky, explosive
nature. Every word leaped from his
lips Like bomb from the mouth of a
mortar. He paid no attention to the
punctuation marks with which an article
was interspersed. He used but two
stops-a short one and long one. The
former he used after every word, and
the latter whenever he wanted to clear
his throat with a drink of cider.
The account of the new-fangled way
OF killing squash-bugs, was quite
lengthy. 1t took the squire full half
hour to read it. When he reached the
end he turned to his visitor, and ex-
Stained:
CHOW, what do you think O. that, Hi
ramp"
Alas, poor Hiram! He knew not what
TO say. He had not been listening to
the article; he had been watching his
sweetheart pare apples. But the old
mans eyes were upon him, and he had
TO say something.
81 think that-that he stammered,
50 think that-that- that-that it's all
moonshine! he added, becoming des-
perate and little angry.
Without knowing it he had hit the
nail squarely on the head.
Squire Hapgood struck his knees en-
phatically with his hand.
"You're right, Hiram" he cried ap-
provingly. You've got some sense
about you, you havel It's all moon
shinei The idea of putting pisin on the
vines to Kill the bugs! Why, it would
Kill the vines, too. Any fool ought to
know that. That editor is a donkey!
I'll write to him tomorrow to stop my
paperi I go in for the oId-fashioned
way of killing squash-bugs, do. Just
catch 'ep1 and mash their heads with
stone-that's the way to kill squash
bugsi /"
That's So" cried Hiram, recovering
his self possession, and winking, upper
-ceived by the old man, at Maggie.