The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1890-04-08
.onn AnENI,s RETENcE.
a BOOK AGENTS NE ENCI'
The Way He got Even with a no
headed Old Farmer.
burlington Hawkeye.l

/ know am only book agent, one of
those well oiled talking machines, COM
monty supposed to be composed of a cur
ious compound of "gab, ""check," "gall"
and several other pleasant ingredients.
| can't and won't, when it comes down
to actual business, stand being kicked.
know am homely and red headed and
Irish, and l don't care who tells me so;
but the man who kicks me touches me
in tender spot and will have revenge.
One year ago l was canvassing in
Pleasant Prairie. Ever been there?
Beautiful place, level as a lake, rich soil,
rich people, beautiful girls, but extraor-
binary big footed fathers. One day,
about an hour before noon, came to q
large, fine farm house. l walked up and
gave the door bell vigorous pull. The
door was opened by a young girl as fresh
and pretty to look at as new blown
rose. l bowed with the easy graceful
ness of an accomplished book agent, an
art only attained by long and constant
practice, and greeted her with my most
bewitching smile. She kindly invited
me into the parlor, while her two eyes
beamed upon me like rays Of light shin
ing through the windows of heaven.
She seated herself upon the sofa, and
l, thinking faint heart never won fair
lady" pulled out my prospectus and took
seat by her side. For one short, happy
hour talked with that fair young
maiden, when, just as we were begin
ming to get somewhat loving and con-
ddential, the door opened, and a six
footed, raw boned, big footed young
farmer entered. He stared at us in blank
amazement for moment and then eiac-
ulated: "Gall, what in thunder are you
doing with that young Great Scott
It's book agentw he ended abruptly,
catching sight of my prospectus.
"Sir," said, rising and politely bow
ing, 81 have the honor of introducing to
you a work.
"And ]" he broke in, starting for me,
shave the pleasure of kicking you out of
my house. You little red headed'-
did not wait to hear more, but catch
ing sight of the size of his boots, I
grabbed my hat and started. Just as I
reached the door his foot caught me like
young cyclone, and, helping me over
six steps, landed me in the midst of
thorn rose bush.
When l crawled out of that bush /
was as mad piece of humanity to the
square inch as ever existed but I
smothered the raging volcano within,
arose and bowed politely.
Madam" said, turning to the girl,
w no f1,a L.,
ing at me, 81 beg your pardon for my
hasty exit. Necessity compelled me to
leave your sweet presence trifle more
suddenly than either politeness or in
clination inclined me to; but in the near
future l shall do myself the honor to call
again."
Gas for you, sir" said, addressing
the farmer, 1--WE two shall meet again."
''Let me catch your red head shining
in my yard again and will kick you all
over the farm, !" was the sweet good-by
of the horny handed son of toll.
That night laid awake all night med
itating dire and awful revenge, and by
morning I had my plans all made.
had piece Of thick sheetiron made
80 that it fitted snug and coy like to
that part Of my anatomy which got
kicked, then I secured six ounces Of
dynamite and fastened it refully in a
oil lined silk bag about six inches square.
This l sewed on the inside of the seat Of
my secord best pants, and my machine
of vengeance was complete.
AS | walked up to the door saw the
farmer drop his fork and take bee line
from the hay field to the house. The
same girl answered the ring of the door
bell. She seemed very much surprised
to see me again, but with a rosy blush
on her cheeks and winsome smile on
her lips she again invited me into the
parlor.
She seated herself on the sofa and with
blush invited me to do the same. did
not dare to sit down, but / bent forward
so as to give the farmer a good oppor-
tunity for square kick-seized her
hand and had just begun to murmur
passionately: 81 must look upon your
supremely beautiful face again, though
the sun should fail and the heavens
should fall"-
When well the heavens did not fall,
but the farmers foot did square and fair
upon that dynamite bag. Great Scott!
who would have thought six ounces of
dynamite could create such rumpus!
When picked myself up out of a
straw pile ten rods away, into which !
had been fortunately thrown, and there
fore not much hurt, saw the farmer
crawling out of mud puddle in the hog
yard some fifteen rods away, and the
girl hanging on the wire fence in the
back yard.
81 bet that farmer don't kick another
boob ogent," muttered as cleared out.