Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1885-09-17
miscellaneous.
Pettingill's Failure.
He WAS UNABLE TO FIND THE KEY IN
HIS WIFE's DRESS POCKET.

he VAS UNABLE ~ IA0D AhL AAhA ~
HIS WIFE's DRESS POCKET.
Col. Jim Pettingill, who is stout man
and perspires great deal. went home to
his wife the other evening and asked her
where she kept the key of his valise. as
he wished to pack up few things and
take the night train for Mobile to look
after some important business matters.
| Mrs. Pettingill told him to go up stairs
| in her room and he would find the key in
the pocket OF her black dress, which was
| hanging on nail behind the door.
Poor, foolish mortal. he did not know
that it was easier. as the scripture says.
for the eve of a rich man to craw. through
a camel than for him to find the pocket of
his wife dress. Blinded by his own con-
fdence. he took the dress off the nail. and
that moment his sufferings commenced
! He took short survey of the garment as
he held 1t up in his left hand in order to
locate the position of the pocket. His
ewes rested on small opening and he
thrust his hand into it, only to find his fin
gers gliding through kind of bottomless
concern, and then sticking his arm into
it up to the hilt. he observed that his hand
was protruding from an aperture on the
other side This caused him to change
the position of the dress. and be saw an
other opening and he sounded its depths
and ascertained that it was the same mys-
FERROUS hole he had been in a moment be-
fore.
This slightly annoyed him, and after
throwing off his coat and vest and mop
ping the streams of perspiration from
his face, he again went in search OF
the pocket. He saw little slit on the
right side. and softer light came into his
eyes. This Is it," he murmured. and
putting his hand into shallow founce,
commenced to grope arcard for the key,
which. however, was sleeping snugly in
the pocket. at least tive feet away. Pet
tengill got mad and began to swear
through his clenched teeth. He deter
mined to find the pocket or die with his
face to the toe. and the next minute he
commenced stabbing the dress with both
hands. hitting it straight blows from the
shoulder. and dancing around it just as
if he was engaged in a rough-and tumble
fight. lie glanced at the clock and saw
that the train would start in 40 minutes,
and once more he jumped for the dress
with a low yell that indicated plainly that
he was mad enough to match himself
against a hornet. He jammed his head
into the folds of the dress and commenced
digging with both hands. and, the air got
full of satin bows, pieces of vatican
plaits and smothered growls. While
seated in chair resting himself he glared
at the crumpled dress lying on the floor.
and the idea occurred to him that the only
one way to keep the pocket from lodging
him was to put the dress on. He did so
and then renewed his search, but his hands
would slide into loops, turbelows. folds,
| f1ounces, and everywhere else except the
much desired pocket. This was more
take off the dress and tear it to pieces,
and thus discover the dwelling place
of the pocket. He pulled the dress
up over his head, as if dvesting him.
self of shirt; it got caught in his
suspender buckles, and wrapped it.
self around his neck in a peculiar way.
and he stopped forward and tugged at it
with all his strength. but it would not
give an inch. and appeared to tighten its
grip around his head. 1t was hot and he
was smothering in its folds. and in order
to release himself he beat the air with
both hands and danced up and down in
one spot until the windowpanes ratified.
The dress. however. knew that it was get
ting the best of him. and would not let
him go, and then Pettingill. in his rage.
made blind dash and bulted the bowl
and pitcher off the wash-stand, and upset
the rocking char. which prodded him
severely in the ribs. The next dive, he
made the bureau suffer. and cologne bottles
and powder boxes. mingling with tin
bath-lub and bird-cage, rolled on the
| floor.
Mrs. Pettingill heard the crash, and has
tening upstairs. discovered her husband
| lying on the floor on his back, with his
arms and head bound up in her dress, and
kicking his legs in the air and using pro-
family of lao degrees in the shade She
pulled him out of the dress. and he sat up
on the floor and gazed at her in dazed
way, and rubbed his ribs with one hand
and wiped the blood off his nose with the
otter. There was a look in his eyes which
told Mrs. Pettingill that it was not the
| time TO talk to her husband. so she merely
picked up the dress, and without any
trouble at all stuck her hand in certain
place and took out the key. which she
handed him without saving word. 1t
was too late to catch the train, so Pettin-
gill quietly bathed his bruised head and
then went to a locksmith's shop, and when
be came home he brought his valise KEY
with him. and it was chained to bar of
pig-iron.- NetO Orleans Times Demo-