Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1896-04-13

hnu RGl SOlle lC5t mliR uuu POuHA
cake for you. You must be dreadfullY
tired and thirsty after that dusty
drive. And" she added, demurely,
81 dare say there's n great deal OF
good sense in your mothers advice" "
"iou'll take it, then?" snid Mr..
Morrison, much relieved.
'If you say so, DEAR" said the obo-
dent wife.
But wher Mr.. Morrison was smok-
ing in the little porch stea, Polly
set down and wrote an aleclionate,
confidential little note to her hus-
bands uncle, Commodore Chesson,
who had taken fathers place~to him
since he was ten years old. She
wrote:
DEAR UNcLE-Do come 20 me Mt once.
The roses are in bloom, the cherries rlpen-
ing on the trees, anl 10 need you so ter
ribiy l want counsel-help, advice. Do
| come! Afiectionately,
"PAULiNA MoRRIsoN.-
Commodore Chesson smiled on the
hurried note as he read it.
"What is the matter with the pre-
cious little humming bird now?' he
said to himself 'Is there a little
cloud 10 bigger than mans hand
across the horizon of her domestic
bliss? Well, well, will go to her. /
never had daughter, but when L am
with Paulina l can imagine how
fathers heart is stirred with the deeps
of tenderness"
He went to Brier Lodge and he had
a long chat with Polly before her hus
band came home.
Vincent was glad to sec his uncle.
He was always glad to see the bland,
courteous old veteran; but he was
little mortified when Polly joined
them, after tea, with an inhnitesimal
smudge across her nose.
"lly darling" said he" 'what is
that on your facs?".
Polly glanced az the glass.
"0h !" said she. rubbing it of with
her pocket handkerchief, "blacks
I've been doing the kitchen range.
Such iobi'
Vincent cleared his throat, with
some embarrassment,
"Can't you give us a little music,
Folly?" ho said.
Bat Mrs Morrison shook her heal.
"Couldn't possibly" said she, 81
ran little splinter into my finger this
morning scrubbing the kitchen-closet
floor, and it has been poulticed ever
since Besides, since L have been
doing Bridget's share OF the cooking
never get any time to practice. One
can t do two thingsat once, you know"
Mr.. Morrison rose quickly.
",ohall we go down to the stables?"
he said to his uncle. "Ihe roam horse
has something the matter with his
foot. Perhaps you could advise me
about it. -
Bat once arrived at the stables only
one stunted little lad could be found
IN charge Of the premises.
"Owen !" Mr.. Vincent called. some
what impntiently; "Oweul What can
have become of that lazy fellow?
Where are you, Owen?"
"Oh," said Commodore Chesson,
carelcssIY, sit is Owen Linn you are
calling. I sent him about his business
this afternoon. A great, lazy, hulk.
ing fellow that don't earn his bread
What do you need Of anybody more
than Billy hereE"
Vincent stared.
"But who is to gron. horses?"
said he.
DO it yourself, said the commo.
dore brlskly. "Why, when 1 was
your age | could have eroome ed a whole
stahleIul of horses before breakfast
every morning and not even felt ii.
An able.bodied man like you has no
business with snch an army of re.
tainers. A man Is best served when
he serves himself. That is my maxim.
MIR. Morrison wInked involuntarily,
as ii an unexpected shower bath had
descended on his head.
"And about that horses foot" said
Commodore Chesson. "It's the shoe.
ing, / dare say. Nobody seems, now
adays, to understand how to shoe a
horse
"Wixon, down by the windmill, has
pretty fair idea Of his business, " be-
gan Mr.. Morrlsou.
Bat Lis uncle interrupted him
sharply.
"Nonsense!" /" said he. 'Do it your
sell"
"What! Shoe my horse?" exclaimed
Morrison.
"Why not? A man ought to know
everything about his own stables"
said the commodore. "Gct tho iron.
Set up little forge. Make your shoe,