Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1896-02-06
THE TROUBLES OF JONES,

IHatchington Green, Hatchington, the
celebrated Jones, though Fly it my
self-~lones, the solicitor, at the corner
house on the Green, the great Jones,
whom everybody knows.
l state this rs simple truth. am
not a vain man; if feel that am SUI
pericr to all the other Joneses N Hatch
iinSton, that is natural opinicn-and
my own private opinion-which [ am
not likely to thrust upon the attention
of my fel!ow-creatnres. Heaven for
bid!
Jones is not an uncommon name,
and one must infallibly encounter
other Joneses in the course of ones
pilgrimage through the world, and be
taken for those other Joneses at times
lin the newspapers, no matter what
objectionable proceedings, civil, unciyil
'or criminal, those other Joneses may
have been up to.
That is the excessively awkward part
of it, and that accounts for the story
am about to relate as graphically as
my powers will allow.
My cnemies-und all remarkable men
have their enemies-will tell you an
other kind of story. "a water on-thc-
brain kind of man." "a swel!ed-head
sort Of fellow" my enemies have been
heard to whisper Of me; but am above
thet" petty calumnies-far away on the
mountain tops above them.
And now for the other Jones, who
must come and pitch his tent on Hatch
ington Green also, OF rather il little
truIcEery house just around the cor
ner of the Green.
Mr.. Timothy Jones arrived at the lit
tie corner house, and began business
there as minor poet. 1 came across
his name sometimes in the newspa-
pers, and once across hi: portrait, SIZE
of postage stamp, at the top Of a para
graph of half-penny evening newspa-
per, and the exact image of n sooty Jack
Sheppard, without the fringe, a mon
strous picture, and labeled st. Jones,
of Hatchington Green"
Don't think a great deal of your
husbands portrait in the Evening Per-
Twinkle" one of my wife's friends
wrote to Mrs. Thomas Jones; Every
unlike him, especially about the nose.
am surprised to find that your hus-
band is poet, too"
If ! had wanted to write poetry
could have turned off rcams Of rhyme,
dare say. consider to be COMPOUNDED
with the man at the corner in the Even
ing Periwinkle was my frs! Eumiliat-
ing blow.
Presently it came to packets Of proofs
being left at my house by the mistakes
of laundering postmen, and then to
important letters of mine going to his
house, and his trumpery correspond
ence coming to mine.
Once this Timothy Jones called On
me to inquire if had taken i'm New
Zealand leg of mutton by mistake; it
should have reached him from Leaden-
hall market by IL noon.
He was civil enough young fellow,
was Timothy Jones, but overccnfdent.
l was glad to put him in his place, now
that the opportunity bad presented
itself
"No, sir; we do not deal in New
Zealand mutton here" / explained.
Mrs. Jones has an insuperahle objec-
ton tc cheap meats, and your mutton
would not have been allowed to come
into the house."
All this was very aggravatiog to me;
still more aggravating when ] found
that my servants had taken the New
Zealand mutton in after all. 1t had
come by carriers cart and the other
Jones had not suggested itself to the
servants minds.
And there it was discovered on our
premises at five in The afternoon, and l
had heard Timothy Jones say that his
dinner was fixed for six.
I sent the mutton around by the
page, and as Mrs. Thomas Jones
thought it was our duty to apologize
I followed the mutton when it had got
a good way upon the road-out of
sight and smell.
Timothy Jones was out, so saw Mrs.
Timothy Jones, Iretty little WOMAN
enough, with too much of smile, per-
haps. 1 made my apology deliberate
lyand formally, and think that she was
impre ssed by it.
She hoped that had not troubled
myself to bring the mutton around
great Heavens!-it was of no conse-
quence now, as another joint had been
procured from the local butcher, and
so forth.
Mrs. Timothy Jones offered to shake
hands with me, which thought
rather familiar proceeding. But
shook hands, and actually kissed that
sticky boy and wishcd-odd that was
that there were three such children
A few weeks later came the great
source of annoyance, even of shame
just as if it were any fault of my own!
There is published on Saturday in
Hatch:ngton a weekly paper principal
ly consisting of advertisements, cribs
from other papers, local news and ran
dom readings. I never looked at the
rag, and therefore it's startling poster
outside the office door failed to catch
my eye; but on the station, whilst wait
ing for my customary train to town,
in huge Brobdingnagian capitals:
.....s........
THE MISSING LADY.
mysterious Disappearance Of Mrs. T.
Jones, of Hatchngton Green.
............. ....................
You might have knocked me down
with feather--it seemed so remarka-
bly, lifelike and homelike. For hin
ute Or two ! forgot about the other
Jones and sat down with swimming
in my head and a general feeling of
"sinks.'
It was ridiculous sensation. Pres
emily l found myself feeling sorry fer
the other Jones and wondering what
had happened to that bright-faced,