Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1883-07-26
A COMEDY OF ERRORS.

Squire Packenhan was very angry.
Being member q the church he didn't
swear. But he slammed the kitchen
door so violently when he came in that
keturah, his wife, comprehended at
once that something was wrong.
Dear me, Abram, said she, mildly,
looking up from the apples she was
slicing for pan-dowdy, "there amt no
occasion to take the door off its hinges,
What's the trouble now?"
Its Betsey Briggs" answered the
squire, seating himself, with some
vehemence, on a cushioned chair.
The airs that creetur gives herself ex-
eeed everything"
Airs" said Mrs. Packenham. 81
didn't know as them was BetSey
Briggs weaknesses"
81 dunno what you'll call it." said
the squire. "She was out in the gar
den pickin' peas, an jest hollered to
her, as l come by. to see if she'd be
willin' to entertain the SEWN society
at her house next Thursday. And, il
you'll believe me, she didn't say
word. Neither yes nor no.
"Well, l neverw said Mrs. Packen-
nam. But" with a gentle desire for
extenuation, "you mustn't forget,
Abram, that Betsey Briggs is near
sighted"
THAT don't prevent her hearin,
does it?" SHARPLY demanded the squire.
Il didn't think o that" said meek
Mrs. Pacllcnham, rejecting golden,
summer apple, which had a bruise on
its mellowest side. ''But I'm quite
sure Bctsey didn't mean no harm.
Betsey never docsr'
II dunno how that may be-" said
the squire, morosely. "But do know
shan't put myself out to speak to her
ag'in, unless she sees fit to apologize.
81 can't make it out at all" said Mrs
Packenham, slowly shaking her head.
Miss Carter was the next person
who stopped at the Packenham house.
She was spare female, whose exact
age, like that of the obelisk, was
wrapped in mystery, and she was
book-agent Of the Iost rabid type, and
deadly execution.
"P'raps you'd like to subscribe to the
'Housekeeper's Weekly Visitor, Mis-
Packenham,' said she, rounding off her
sentences with a prodigious sniff.
oval, nol' said Mrs. Packenham.
"We aren't much O. readers here"
"Or maybe your husband would like
to take copy of the Ten Leading
American Patriots q" suggested Miss
Carter, still struggling with her
catarrhal difficulty.
"Abram don't read nothin' but the
newspapers" said Mrs. Packenham.
His eyesight amt what it was and"
"Who's your neighbor down under
the hill?" sharply interrupted Miss
Carter. "Just beyond the brook, where
the bridge is SO out of repair?"
"Her name is Briggs" said Mrs.
ackenham-"B Betsey Briggs!"
"Wel, whoever she is" snorted Miss
Carter, "she hasn't no moro manners
than moody cow. Not to notice me,
even, and me standin' there talkin' my
self hoarse to her. Not even to turn
her head to look at meP'
"Dear, dear!" said Mrs. Packenham,
"that's very strangel Betsey's dread
full sociable creetur. That don't seem
like her bit.
"Wen, that don't signify" said Miss
Carter, seating herself, and opening
her leather packet. "But I'd just like
you to look at few recent publications
I've got here"
"Oh, don't trouble to show 'em to
mer' said Mrs. Packenham, apprehen-
sively. Il hain't no money to buy nor
time to read; and the churnin's behind
hand, this mornin', and I've got soft
soap to make"
"It won't take a minute persua-
sively argued Miss Carter.
And she sat two mortal hours in the
scuire's kitchen. and made Mrs. Pack