The sea coast echo. [volume] (Bay Saint Louis, Miss.) 1892-current, 1892-04-23
HIS UNLUCKY PLANET.
1t Proved to Be q Lucky One
After All.


fault" Charley Cleve said. "Whose
else should it be? But I'm disinherited,
all the same. I've no more chance of
coming into that fertile farm land than
than yonder Italian organ grinder,
who is turning the crank SO persever-
ingly under deaf Squire Homers back
kitchen window"
"Oh, Charley said Bess, clasping
her hands despairingly together.
Il didn't expect much else" went on
Mr.. Cleve, in rollicking, light-hearted
sort of way. 81 was born under an
unlucky star, Saturn, or Mars, or one
OF those planets that never bring a fel-
low any good. You can't expect star
to reverse it's order on nay account, can
you?"
but, Charley"
Just wait until you hear the full ac-
count of my atrocities l wasn't so
much to blame for treading on the cat
anyone might have done that l
don't think she laid that up against
me. And when broke down the old
cherrywood chair that had belonged to
her grandfather-that was mere
question of weight And I mended it
for her, too. But when the bro;led
ham for breakfast had such queer
taste to it and had to confess that
had been smoking up the chimney
where it hung"
"Oh, Charley!
"How was to know that she made
a store-house of the back-room Chin
ney? Folks in Philadelphia don't do
that sort of thing. And she wouldn't
tolerate tobacco in any shape-she let
me know that, at the very outset!'
Bess shook her head mournfully.
You know | told you. Charley :"
she began.
'Yes my dear little guardian angel
but l give you my word, l'll confine
myself to cigarettes for the future, and
never smoke one within quarter of a
mile OF the house. But listen. The
next thing did was to upset her whole
churning of cream. 1t hung half way
down the we'll, don't you see, and when
came home, famished with thirst, and
jerked the bucket down-well, the
first thing heard was Cousin Sarepta
like mad. is it burglars?'
said I, selling my blackthorn stick,
or is it fire% And had plunged into
the house, and put my foot-literally,
not metaphorically-into the old lady's
baking of custard pies, that she had
set on the cellar floor to cool, before
she could make me understand. But
the last straw that broke the camel's
back was the old gray goose"
1.-The old gray goose Charley!
Surely, nothing has happened to
tAat!'
Mr.. Cleve shook his head.
THE very worst has happened, said
he. "Tve shot itn'
''Oh, Charley!'
The young man laughed bitterly, and
spouted the lines:
"Why lookst thou SO? With my crossbow
shot the albatross!
Yes, did. Out Wild duck hunting in
the marshes. thought it was rather
a mammoth specimen, when l leveled
the trigger; and when Don brought it
to me my heart sank to the very soles
OF my boots. / had half an idea of
burying the creature out among the
salt grasses, and saying never word.
But that would have been a sneaking
sort of dodge. The Cleves can do
plenty of shabby things, but they never
lie outright. So brought it home
with the string of wild birds 'I'm
very sorry, Cousin Sarepta,' said l,
but I've shot your old goose Ill re-
place it with the finest pair to be had
IN Salt Inlet Replace itr says she;
and then, to be sure, there aoas a scene.
She set good deal of store by that old
gray goose, you know"
"Yes, know" said Bessie, resigned
y. "lt was nearly twenty years old.
She raised 10 herself in basket by the
fire, and it ate corn daily out
of her own hand. She wouldn't have
aiken twenty dollars for that old
goose. No, nor fifty, do believe"
$50" added Charley. with particu-
arly expressive shrug of the shoul-
ters, "she has turned me out of doors.
She called ME loafer and shiftless
le'er-do-weel, and ! dare say she was