The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1884-08-21
LOVE IN ASHES.

"Scant of nine, and the washing all
out, unused thrifty Mrs Clutter as
she scrubbed the porch. '.Deacon, I'll
get you to set the big tub down cellar,
Il you will.
Certain, wife, y responded the deacon
from his cart in the door-yard.
sThere comes Kendall new basket
wagon, with two women in it, pursued
the lady, wringing her mop. isn't that
the horse that balksp'
Being in the act of emptying four
gallon bucket of soap, the good man
vOuchsafed no reply. When the jellied
mass had quivered and splashed into
the barrel in waiting he looked up Just
in season to see the gay little pony shy
ct the cart and go tearing down the
road
They'll upset! they Il be killed! Run
after EN-! Do something's shrieked
hrs. Clutter.
''Don't get excited, wife; they're all
right now. That girl drives Like 3
man.
And picking up his bucket, the mod
crate deacon marched off for second
supply of soap. But though the little
: incident had failed to shake his nerves,
it did make him oblivious of his wife s
wash-tub poised on the landing of the
dim stairway, and, as natural conse-
guence, he put his foot in it. The tub
rolled; the deacon swayed like q pestle
IN q mortar; there was a lively success
ion of bumps, followed by a clatter and
o thud, and deacon, tub and bucket
strewed the cellar floor.
''Adab and Abihu!' calculated the
fallen saint, with sinful energy.
whats up, unclepn cried an anx-
iOus voice overhead.
81 can tell you what's down." was
the grim response. ''Come and brace
me while ! try to STEP
The owner OF the voice, a fine-look-
ing youth of one and twenty, was al.
ready cropping his way among the de
bris, his aunt in the rear with the cam.
phor.
The deacon's attempted locomotior
resulted In groan.
Il must have sprained my ankle
Harvey. IT I'd postponed this tub-race
Gil after I'd been my rounds, 'twould
have been better calculation.
'.0h, I wouldn't worry about my
rounds. uncle. What's the hurryP''
My customers expect me to-day
that's the point / hate mastery &c
break my word. Now there s the widow
Cleavos waiting for me to take heI
ashes, so she can scrub after me with
the boiling suds, and up at Kendalrs
iAey'rs clean out of soap.
"AId not clean without it, ehp''
ianghed the young man. ''See here
unclei since you are going to feel SO un'
easy about disappointing the people
why not send me in your steadp"
You, IN your fine clothesl I should
smile, mumbled Mrs. Clutter, with
me stopper of the camphor bottle be
tween her teeth.
Why can't my uncle's mantle fall
upon me, auntieP I was intending II
oorrow the frock.n
Wen, il | do say it, you've got the
lance eommon-sense. Some young mer
= your bringing up would be ashamed
v oIlve soap-cart =
Hanphi Some Young men would
esIoois. said the deacon, with warmth
Nobody has any call to be ashamed te
ssll.er such soap as / make. IF you've
sTalRd to run the team to-day, Harvey
ls q. be obieeged to you. 3
rn1een minutes later the worthy dea
~ vas extending his aching length
49, tne sltting-room lounge, and gaz
through the open window after hi
s.nial proxy, who, duly initiated inte
IS Y Jsseries of the calling, was driving
,ay y the big blue cart. Behind
$1,000 and ereaked On empty ash-bin
1880 OF two covered barrels of soap
~ ne swinging seat MAS clean ana