The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1886-03-13

be better off than she'd ever been with
him. She says Nose kinder hauled in his
horns, as if he was little afeard, an LIE let
'er go without sayin' nothin' more"
"The mean scamp! Lucky for him |
wasn't his wife" said Aunt Hannah. fierce
ly. sid learnt him what's what afore this
time"
''Well, we see Dave went an told them fac
try fellers how mean Nose had used his
wife, an they'd allus had kind of a grudge
aginst him, an didn't want no better fun n
t scare him half to death; so they just
rugged up in old clos an turned their coats
wrong side out N blacked their faces, SOS
he couldn't tell none on 'em. Then they got
a big bag of feathers an kittle of tar an
tried t. git Nose out But he smelt a rat an
they couldn't raise him, They pounded on
the doors an told him they'd break 'em
down if he didn't let 'em in, but he never let
on.he heard EN-. Bimeby some of 'em got
the hog trough an threw it through the
winder-"
Good for em" said Aunt Hannah, chuck
ling with delight. That's the most sensi-
BILE thing they ever donel A hogs trough is
the best thing they could find for SIGH
hog"
They stayed round there purity nigh half
an hour, and one or two on EN- got in through
the broken winder an looked high an low,
but they couldn't find hide or hair of Nose.
After they'd been gone spell, Lish went
over an hollered t. Nose n told him they'd
all cleared out, an nobody shouldn't teen
him if he'd come out But he never showed
himself, an Lish Lit candle an went all
over the house from garnet t suller, but he
couldn't find nothin' O. Nose nowhere; but
| jest as he was a-goin' t give 1t up ne heard
Nose call in kind of scarf whisper;
'Lish, is it you? Be they all gone?
An as true as you live there was Nose
| down on all fours, a-crawlin' out OF hogs
head way in under the suller stairs. He was
all covered with ashes an dirt, an he shook
| lest like popple leaf He was scarf all but
! t. death, an hung on t Lish so, not to leave
him alone, that he had to fetch him home
with him. He put him in the bed up garrit
m never knew nothin' about it till morn
| ing, or thele'd been music, We better bleve.
| jest made Lish take that air bed out inter
| the yard, an it's there now; nobody'd never
| WdIlbCl olCCP Oll dlbCA thd1 httobJ SilttOl u
been sleepin' in IT,
'Well, declare for't'' Aunt Hannah said
spitefully, at the close of the narration. 81
wish t. goodness they'd ketched him, an
tarred an feathered him an rode him on
rail out O. town. If l owed the Old Scratch
dozen sinners an he wouldn't take Nose
Potter n call it even, I'd cheat him out o.
the huh ont! He's the biggest old hyper
critic that ever see"
"There, there, Hannahv' Uncle Joel in
terposed mildly coming out of the pantry,
where, during the recital of his neighbors'
misdemeanors he had been hunting high and
low for something he could not quite re-
member.
Judge not, lest We be judged"
"By their fruits we shall know EN-" Aunt
Hannah retorted sharply. "An' if man
don show nuthin' but hoggishness m hy-
| pocrisy, dunno where's the sin in calling
him hog and a hypercrite an you needn't
stand up for him, nuther. He's got more
devils in him than ever was cast out of Mary
Magdalene anyhow"
'sWell, Hannah, twas a woman the Lord
cast 'em out of The Bible don't say as he
ever cast seven devils out of man."
mo: he left 'em all in the men, an they're
there now" was the triumphant retort
Under this scathing rebuke Uncle Joel re-
treated to the pantry and continued his
search.
what in the world are yon sputterin
round that butt'ry for?" his wife called, as
the clatter of pans and dishes first drew her
attention to Uncle Joeps trespass upon for
hidden ground.
''Why, I'm lookin' for them eggs, Hannah
Ye told me t. set the old speckled hen, didn't
We? An can't find the eggs nowhere
Mercy on us! and you've been all this
time about it, l thought you'd set her half
an hour ago."
And rising from her chair, Aunt Hannah
started hurriedly for the pan4ry, when ex-
clamation Of
so Miss Potter, do sect" recalled her.
And what sight,
There, in the feathery depths of the chair
cushion, was the old felt hat crushed as fiat
as pancake, and all that remained of the
dozen eggs was mass of broken shells,
whites and yolks mixed in a manner not
common in cake making. Her dress was
plentifully plastered with the mixture and
every movement sent drippings of it down
to the floor.
In her eagerness to hear her neighbours
story, she had sat down without looking be-
hind her, and the soft depths of the cushion
had given had given no warning of the mis-
chief she was doing.
My goodness was all she could say as
she stood looking upon the horrible mixture.
''Well, Hannah" said Uncle Joel, 81 new
er thought We was in sicK hurry to hatch
them eggs that ye'd set on 'em yourself.
And for the first time in her twenty years
of married life Aunt Hannah had no retort
ready, and the old speckled hen was not set
that day.