The evening herald. [volume] (Shenandoah, Pa.) 1891-1966, 1891-10-31
An Early DeIleacy.

and insufficient garments, with knot
ted, sandy beard, skipped lightly into a
Danbury dry goods store yesterday after
noon. He had hugged up close to him
in one arm glass jar with a bit of dingy
muslin over it. He wanted to see the
proprietor, and clerk obligingly pointed
out that gentleman to him, who was
then engaged in the herculean task Of
selling a lady half yard of linen The
stranger stRlked up TO him.
"Be you the boss, mister?' ne asked,
with a seductive smile.
"Yes, sir, Anything | can do for your"
yes" said the stranger, carefully de-
posting the jar on the counter, and with
an air as if the counter had been erected
with this object specially in view. "Pve
got prime article of horseradish here
that want to sell YOU"
81 don't want TO buy any," said the
merchant, with tinge OF pettishness in
his tone.
"It's prime article, can tell ye."
II don't want it.
"But you amt looked at it, you amt
tried it," argued the vender.
81 tell you don't want it."
you can have it for fifty cents, al
though it's worth seventy-fve I'll dump
it right out in paper, or I'll leave the
jar and you kin bring it back tomor-
row."
81 don't want it, I say. Take it away"
demanded the merchant, flushing slight
ly in the face,
Don't you git in hurry, boss" per-
suasively urged the proprietor of the
condiment. "You don't git such horse
radish as this every day, | kin inform ye,
| growed the roots that came from my
self, by jickeyl Igrowed 'em back ofa
barn, an took as much care of their
cultivation as il they had been my own
flesh and blood. Why, I've got up in the
dead of night with lantern, and went
out back of that barn an tucked them
up, as it were. An said to my ole wom-
an, sez |, ole woman, them roots will
go to make glad the heart of a merchant
prince sez l, an here they be, grated up
an ready for the table What do you
say7"
"I say, as said before, that don't
want your stuff, and | want you to take
it away from here at once" said the mer-
chant, who had now become very red in
the face.
"StuffF CALCULATED the man, with a
start, while his eyes watered and his
under lip trembled. "Stuffl You call
that stuf-that which grew right be-
hind my own barn, an which has had a
lantern above it in the dead of night
grated up by my own hands, an with a
pint of the best cider vinegar in the
country dancing through its veins-you
call it stuff, do you? an you stand right
here an in the broad light of day declare
that none of that horseradish will fresco
your cold meat, an set up before your
children like a thing of beauty All
right" (He gathered the jar up in his
arm again.) "You can't have this horse
radish now, You needn't whimper for
it. Not word from you," he added,
with as much earnestness as if the mer-
chant had dropped on his knees and was
agonizingly begging for hopeless favor.
"You amt got money enough in your
hull store to buy grain of it. You
shouldn't git as much as a smell of it if
you was to git right down on your snoot
an howl till you were cracked open.
Gosh dun mel" he suddenly shouted,
"Tll go out on the boundless prairie an
eat every bit of it myself, if it burns a
hole clean through me as big as tun-
mel, an sets the prairie afire an devas-
tates the land"
And with this terrific threat he strobe
gloomily away in search of a prairie.
j. M. BAILEY