The weekly messenger. [volume] (St. Martinsville [i.e. St. Martinville] La.) 1886-1948, 1890-08-02
"Tnat's tue very question:" said

very common name" said Jack, re fec
lively. 'And Harry's my college chum
and L m going to ask him to be my
bes. man at the wedding"
'Oh, Jack! Hope he isn't as disa-
greeablc as his uncle" cricI E fleda.
"He's trump"
''Be sides, don't believe his uncle
will let him GOMEZ" added the girl.
Not let him comet Why shouldn't
hep
because he hates US 50 on account
Of the bees"
"Bst, l say, Fleda" cried the young
man, "This comrlicatcs matters !
promised to go AMI Sc, Harry Mingdcn
: when | YVES down here"
c, ami see him, then; but don't
mention the name OF Fenwicl, for your
life."
Indeed I shall. Isn't it the name
Of all others in which l take the mos;
PRIDE
"Oh, Jack. you will only make more
trouble! It'll be worse than the bees.
Promise me, Jack, or I'll never, never
speak to you again
AID Jlck had to promise, after some
unwilling fashion.
Mrs. Fenwick. a pretty. faded little
widow was full charged with indigna-
ton when Fleda returned from her
stroll in the woods.
Mamma, wha: is the matter" said
Fleia.
'One of the hives was t-tippcd over
tonight" sobbed Mrs. Fenwlck; "and
I'm sure he did it."
cit was the wind, mamma"
mo wind ever did that, Fleda.
But set it up again. l will never,
never sacrifice my apiary to his absurd
prejudices."
Dear mamma, if you would only
have the hives moved to the other side
of the garden!' Pleaded Fleda, caress-
ingly.
And sacrifice a question of princi-
pie! Never!' replied the widow.
Mrs. Fenwick, ordinarily the most
amiable of women, was reused on this
subject to an obstinacy which could
only be characterized as vindictive
And Mr.. Ezra Mingden was ten times
as bad as his neighbor.
"That woman is a dragoness, Hail.
he said to his nephew. ''She keeps
those bees simply to annoy me. hate
bees. Bees hate me. = ely time /
walk there get stung."
''But, uncle, you shouldn't brandish
your cane about So" reasoned Harry.
''It's sure to enrage en-"
al dom t brandish it on the WON ans
side of the fence. If her abominable
buzzlng insects persist in trespassing in
my garden, am not bound to protect
myself" sputterc Mr.. Mingdcn.
"Can't you walk somewhere elsel"
Cant she put her bees somewhcrc
else'"
but, unc.e, all this seems such a
trivial affair"
Trivial, indeed! If you'd been
stung on your nose and your ear and
your eyelids and every where else, would
you call it trivial l never eat honey,
and I've always considered bees to be
an absurdly overratei section of ento-
mology. What business have her bees
TO be dcvouring all my flowersa How
would she like it hcrself?'
Harry Minsden smiled to sec the de-
gree of fury to which the old gentleman
was gradually working himself up. He
was already in Jack Trevelyn's conf.
dence. and thus, to a certain extent,
enjoyed the unusual opportunity of see
ing both sides of the question.
"Look here. SIR said he. "why
don't you set up colony of bee hives,
yourselfl If her bees rife your flow
ers. let yours go foraging into her gar
den. Let her see, as you suggest. how
she would like it herself. Put row
Of hives as close to your side of the
fence, as you can get It. If they fight,