Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1893-03-31

ing frantically aft, seized upon Bounce
with shout of jubilation.
"I say, Polly" he exclaimed, ''what
a jolly little dog-only you orter have
him muzzled-he looks savage!'
There's some boys 1 know that
wouldn't be worse if they were muz-
zled," gravely observed Captain Flagg
-rescuing Bounce from the hands of
his nephew, who was preparing to
stand the small dog on his hind legs
though he tempered the severity of this
hint by slight internal chuckle, and a
wink of intense meaning.
"No! is that so, Uncle Jeth?" re-
turned Joe, regarding Tad with a look
of seeming apprehension. He don't
seem like one of that kind" added the
youthful speaker, with affected inno-
cence, as Captain Flagg turned away
to hide smile.
"Oh, Joe Whitney, you're just as
bad as ever" Polly exclaimed, despair
ingly; and then, remembering that the
polite usages of society called for a
formal introduction, she added:
"Joe, this is Tad Thorne-I hope
you'll be ever so good friends"
"How are you, Tad?" said Joe, with
shy twinkle in his eye.
Chow are you JoeP" awkwardly re-
turned Tad, who didn't very well know
what else to say, and, on the whole,
rather fancying the easy, off-hand man.
ner of Polly's cousin. But, then, every
body liked Joe, as a general thing
even those Bixport people who insisted
that if he scas Deacon Whitney's son,
he was the worst boy in the place.
Yet Joe's badness was nothing SO
very bad, after all. He was only one
of those restless, fun-loving boys, who
are never SO well content as when they
are in mischief; and neither the pro-
testations Of his mother, nor the occa-
sional thrashings administered by the
good deacon, had any thing more than
merely temporary effect.
"Did you come from BostonP" asked
Joe, as Tad, with home-siek feeling
under his jacket, watched Polly and her
father getting ready to leave the vessel,
for, of course, he expected to have to
stay on board until sor1e different ar
rangement was made for him.
" No, from Philadelphia, returned
Tad, and Joe began to regard him with
sort Of respect; for Philadelphia, in
the eyes of Bixport people. was one of
the most wonderful cities in the whole
world.
"Come on, Tad; we're all ready"
called Polly, and can assure you that
Tad was not more than minute in
running below after the little hand
sachel, which he determined not to let
out of his possession, and returning to
the deck.
'1sn't it nice that you're going home
with us?' said Polly, as the little party
of three walked up the wharf, leaving
Joe swarming up the Mary J.'s"
rigging, three ratlines at step.
Tad thought it was decidedly nice,
and his smiling face expressed more
than his brief words as, dropping be-
hind Polly and her father, he followed
them at respectful distance.
This is Main street." explained
Polly, turning a beaming face upon
him, as, leaving the wharf, they en-
tered the village itself.
"Ohr' said Tad, filled with amaze
ment, and thinking how funny it all
was-the narrow plank walk, the grass
growing green by the wayside, with
cows-real live cows!-feeding on it,
Tad caught himself wondering what a
country COW would do in a Philadel-
phia street-say Broad street, for ex-
ample. And then, too, every thing
was so quiet. Occasionally farm
wagon rolled leisurely BY, or an OK
cart, with n brown-faced man. in shirt
sleeves, sitting sideways on the cart
tongue, jOlted slowly along. Tad, who
had never seen any oxen before, re-
garded them as a probable new and su-
perior breed of cows.
At little intervals along the street,
great elm and maple trees were grow
ing-trees whose shade in summer
nearly hid the quaint old houses behind
them from view. Just now their
branches were bare, but the warm
April sun which shOne down through
them suggested that soon they would
begin to thrc " out shoot and bud. Al
feady eomo buebirds sud Il robin or
two we're comparing musical notes in
the tree-toPs, as they discussed the
shortest passages from the aouth, or
began laying their plans for spring
housekeeping.
A little further on stood the one
store and post-office combined, then
came the town pump. the Echool-house,
a small church with a square tower like
n sentry-bCx. and then
Our house" rapturously cried Pol
ly, and, dropping Bounce, who wed-
died along after her as fast as his short
legs would carry him. she darted
through an open gateway and up a
trim gravel walk, and was directly
afterward infolded in the motherly
arms of Mrs. Flagg, who WAS short and
stout Ike her husband, and beamed so
genially upon Tad. through pair of
brass-bowed spectacles, a moment or
two later, that his heart warmed
toward her at once.
"Our house" was funny little one
story building with what the Bixport
people call ''gambril roof" making
it seem to an imaginative person as
though it were Struggling its shoulders
with its hands in its pockets The
windows were small, with tiny panes
of glass, and the front door, painted a
lively pea-green, had a wonderfully
bright brass knocker in the center OF
the upper panel. There was a weather.
beaten barn at the rear, from whose
open doors issued focks of noisy hens,
while o number of doves "courooed''
on the roofs in the sunshine; the little
door-yard was oyergrown with syringa
and lilac bushes, and the two or three
dilapidated fower-beds were bordered
with large clam-shells.
Tad had good chance to notice all
this, because the Flaggs were some lit
lie time in getting into the house, as at
every few steps Mrs. Flagg had to stop
and speak of some bit of news, paren-
thesizing the same by giving Polly a
hug.
Polly had certain Bostonian expert
ences to narrate-particularly the one
where Tad and Bounce were prominent,
and even Cantnin Elanrr him snlk ta r.r.i ed