Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1886-10-28
Judge Browns Water Melon
Story.
from the Arkansas Traveller.

melon growers in the country. Melon cul-
ture was his delight. | particularly remem-
Der one crop. Just before the melons began
to get ripe my father called Black Bill and
me and said ~ want you bows to understand
one thing. If one of nv melons is stolen |
am going to measure the tracks that | find in
the patch snd then measure feet, and the
| owner of the feet that correspond with the
tracks shall get whipping that he can never
| forget. See this hickory" pointing to a
long and cruel-ooking switch which he had
placed above the dining-room door "Well,
if either Of you wants to catch this switch
| pitch in - Bill shook his head and muttered
that he didn't want it; that he would rather
be killed by a steer (old Buck few weeks
before had thrown Bill against a tree and
knocked off the bark than to be cut to pieces
with such a switch; and | assured my stern
parent that SO far as | was concerned he
might rest in peace. Bill was the only negro
we had, and although he was compelled to go
to church every Sunday, riding on the seat
behind the buggy, and although he sat in
the buggy during services, and with
out effort could hear every word of the SER
mon, yet that boy with all his careful training
was inclined to be a thief.
The next day after the proclamation was
issued went ont and looked at the melon
patch. There, lying in the sun, striped and
tempting, lay beautiful melon. All. if there
was any thing that could make a Southern
boy forget honor it was a watermelon |
trembled, for | knew could not prevent my
self from stealing it; and then that awful
switch came up before me. An idea struck
me. | went to the house, stole into the cab
in and got Bills shoes. What an enormous
foot the rascal had The shoes were so
large that they would not stay on my feet,
but overcame this great draw back by stuff
fing them with grass. | slipped around and
entered the patch from locust thicket. A
rain had fallen the day before and made de-
cided tracks in the level ground. | got the
melon, stole back to the thicket and, although
it was not ripe ate more than half of it,
Then returned Bills shoes. That after
noon while Bill and | were in the yard, saw
my father, carefully carrying small stick,
enter the gate. His face wore an unusually
stern expression and | saw that there was
something wrong.
81 don't think that much measuring is
needed on this OCCASION" said he, glancing
at the stick. "Bill, where are your shoes 2"
In de cabin, sab"
Bring them here"
He brought the shoes. The old gentleman
applied the measure and said: "Fresh dirt
on them. see"
Bills face became a study. "Doan know
how it come on dar, marster. Amt wore
'em sense last Sunday"
Eyes, that's all right. john" turning to
me, "fetch me that switch" My heart smote
me, but brought the switch Then Bill be-
gan to dance. never did see a fellow get
himself into so many different shspes and it
seemed that every shape was better suited to
the switch. had to snort | couldn't help
it, | kept out of Bills way as much as pos
sble. for he seemed to look reproachfully at
me, but he did not accuse me of delivering
him up to the enemy, aud had begun to per
suade myself that Bill had stolen the melon,
when two DAYS later came to grief Bill
and we're again in the yard wien my father
entered the gate, carrying a small stick
John" said he as he approached, "where
are your shoes?"
I'm the house, sir"
"Bring them here"
got my shoes. Great Caesar there was
fresh soil on them. Come on. come on, -
said the old gentleman. | handed him one
shoe and dropped the other one. bill, !"
said he, after measuring the shoe. bring me
that switch" Bill bounded with delight and
brought the switch
pap" cried, please don't whip me; |
amt done nuthn'-Oh-
danced, capered and met the switch at
every tHrn. In my agony | caught sight of
Bill standing at the corner of the house and
snorting like a gisndered horse. Bill kept
out of my way, but that evening met him
and asked:
"Bill, how did you wear my shoes?"
"How did yer war mine?'
"Put grass in EN-"
"Wall | tuck err par er short stills an put
yer shoes on de ends O. em. Reckon wese
erbout even now. Oh, | tell yer whuts er
fsck, John, it won't do ter fool " id me, case
Use one o de 'n'inted by de saints"
Frank Siddal of Philadelphia, who is known
as one of the heavy advertisers of the country,