San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-01-15

| O. sto'' boots" purchased enulrely with
reference to the requirements of the fu-
ture. They were many sizes too large
| for him; the legs, adorned with flaming
scarlet tops, reached nearly to his mid
die; they Topped up and down at every
step, and evinced an evil propensity for
| wabbling and bringing their owner with
| sorrow to the ground. They were hard
| natured, stiff soled, uncompromising-
| but! they were boots!-"sto' boots, whar
cos moneyr'-and Sawney's cup of bliss
was full.
Any one who has experience in the
ways and wiles of the domestic treasure
must be aware of the painful lack of con-
sideration sometimes evinced by turkeys
in this apparently simple matter of al
| lowing themselves to be housed. Some
evenings they march straight into their
apartment with the directness and pre-
cision of soldiers filing into barracks; on
| others the very Prince of Darkness,
| backed by the three Fates and the three
| Furies, apparently takes possession of
the perverse, shallow pated birds. They
wander backward and forward with an
air of vacancy as though they knew not
what to do: they pass and repass the
yawning portal of the turkey house with
| heads erect and eyes fixed on futurity,
not only as if they did not see the door,
but actually as if there were no door
there to see. And when the maddened
| driver, wrought to desperation, hurls
| into their midst a stick or stone, hoping
| feryently and vengefully that it may
break neck or u leg, they leap nilnbly
into the air with "put-putterings" of
surprise and rebuke, and then advance
cautiously upon the missile and exam
inc it.
The Lanarth turkeys were behaving
in just this reprehensible manner, and
Pocahontas was working herself into a
| frenzy over them, Three times she en-
| gineered the flock successfully up to the
| open door, and three times the same old
brown hen advanced, peered cautiously
into the house, started tragically aside
as though she beheld some evil thing,
and produced panic and a stampede.
| "You miserable wretch!' exclaimed
Pocahontas, hurting her empty basket
impotently at the dUsly author Of her
woe, 81 could kill you! Shoe! shoe!
Sawney, why don't you help me? Head
them! Run round them! Shoe! shoo!
| you abominable creaturesv'
Sawney essayed to obey, grasping
| the straps of his boots and lifting his
| feet very high,
"Take them off and rum" commanded
Pocahontas. But Sawney would as soon
have parted with his skin. II divine
ter rum" he responded, and gripped his
| boots valiantly. TWAS of no use. Saw
ney had gotten too much boot for his
money, and if walking in them was diff
cult, running was impossible. He held
on to them bravely, but that only impcded
| progress farther; the faithless cowhides
wabbled, twisted and finally landed him
| sprawling on his back in the middle of
the flock. which promptly retired to dis
tant parts of the poultry yard ''putter-
ing" and lodging.
"Sawney proves broken reed, as usu-
al" called a pleasant voice from some
where in The background; "here, let me
| help you," and Nesbit Thorne leaped
over the fence and advanced, gun in
hand, to the rescue.
"It's the fault of his 'sto boots, Poca-
hontas explained, laughing, as she ex.
tended her hand. "Sawneys intentions
were honorable enough. shall be glad
of your assistance, as Usual"-with a
merry Chancellor these aggravating
birds are SCATTERING my nerves and ruin
ing my temper"
Then together the pair pursued the I'M
ruly fowls and pressed upon them and
buffeted them, until the turkeys were
right glad to defy the vision Of the old
brown sensationist and take refuge in
their house. Pocahontas closed the door
with sharp bang almost upon the tail
| of the hindmost one, locked it, and then
turned cordially to her companion and
invited him to remain and take tea with
| them.
Thorne glanced down at his splashed
boots and corduroys. I'm scarcely in
trim for lady's teatable," he said smil-
| ing, "you must excuse me and let me
come some other time. l met your
brother on the low grounds as l came
up. I've been shooting over his land
and called to leave your mother a few
| birds"
Had you good SPORT" inquired Poca-
hontas with interest, watching him
empty the pockets of his shooting coat
on the top of an adjacent chicken coop,
and admiring the soft shades and ex-
quisite markings of the plumage of the
dead birds.
'tHere's old 'brer rabbit" said Thorne,
l. = l. l. Il. l. -