The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1897-03-20

neixhbor besouzht Mr. Tucker 70 pay
her a Wait that week. You're almost
stranger. AImiry.7 said she, cant you
and Mr, Tucker come 10 tea toward TIE
end q the week.
I'D De pleased" answered Mrs
Tucker. Mr.. fuckers busiern com
mon Just now with the haydn but per-
hara he could come along late 10 the
afternoon and go home With me-
Nr. Tucker. however. would make no
promise. IN see about g." was what
he said. The day was 50 warm That
Nrs. Tucker went 10 the storeroom 70
get out certain black and white
sDrfx1ed lawn. which she kept for the
hottest weather, and which had not
been worn that season. The store closet
was built around the chimney. II was
10, small for a room. too large for
closer. and Il had a little bit Of win
dow near the floor that would not open.
Mrs.. Tucker was all ready 70 20 when
she saw that she had left the door IN
fastened. and she stepped back and
turned the button.
r. proved 70 be al enjoyable after
noon. though Mr. Tucker did not come
% tea 4 don't suppose It vas 80 he
could get away" Mrs. Tucker ex-
plalned. alphabetically; "the hays
rspenln' 20 fast She vas disappointed
herself. for she enjoyed her husband
society az tlmes-he made good ap-
pearance Ia company" On this account
she returned early In the evening, hold
Ing her muslin skirts well up TO keep
them out Of the dust Contrary TO their
usual twilight habit, the side door was
closed. Everything looked just as she
had left II. She hooked back the door
and opened a window to let Ia the fresh
air. II went up with a bang. Rata
tat: rat-atatl What was thatl Mrs.
fuckers pulse jumped wildly; both her
hands sprung up as she listened. There
Il was againl A loud thumpthump
going on upstairs.
Mercy What can It be. Where's
Isrel that he don't hear the nOisel II
can't" Awful fears chased her as,
dragging her everyday hat by one
string. she rushed upstairs where the
sounds. louder and louder, guided her
straight 10 the storeroom door.
There was no installing the animat-
Ing motive Of those blows; rage, word
less and lmpotent rage, was venting
itself In regular pounding thwacks like
a batterjng ram inside that closet; the
door trembled under them. Mrs. Tucker
turned the button and the door shot
forward with the force OF a catapault
A tall. burly form. partly white and
partly black In the dusk. stepped forth.
"Isrel Putnam Tucker, how you
scaret me, How came you thereg"
Did Israel Putnam Tucker deign to
replyl Not he. He stalked majestical-
ly across the hall with a measured
tread that lost none Of its impressive
ness from his being in his shirt sleeves.
His wife followed at his heels, all agi-
tation and remorse.
You don't say you was in that closet
all the aft'noon? Why, the awful. Why
didn't you speak? Why didn't you say
something? | was in a hurry an l
suppose you didn't have time. An the
boy was way over in the lot, want he?
OF course. he couldn't hear you. I'm
dreadful sorry, Isr'el l wouldn't done
it for anything If I'd known. Such a
hot day, tool I'm afraid you'll be sick.
Your face is just purple"
This was going just too far. Mr..
Tucker lifted his free hand (the other
held his vest and wilted collar in a
single determined gesture. as one who
should say: "Avauntr He might have
been posed just so on a pedestal for a
statue Of his namesake. Then looking
neither TO right nor left, he marched
downstairs.
CONSERVATION made Mrs. fuckers
round eyes rounder and puckered all
her face; something else divided her
swift mind. something that wanted 10
be amusement. and had no kindred soul
TO share it with.
"Oh. my. he's just full of mad she
soliloQuized. Don't blame him. So,d
/ be If I'd been shut up four or five
hours In that little closet: only ia bean
thinkin some how comical twas and
kind O maxim story of it to tell after.
ward an he don't get any comfort that
way"
Mr.. Tucker came in from the ward
after awhile, and sat down in the door
with his newspaper. His wife auttered
about anNiously. LET me make Won q
glass Of lemonade. Isr'el." she SUE.
geSted.
The top Of Mr.. fuckers head above
the newspaper waved decidedly from
side 10 side.
Il won't ask him; I'll 20 make it."
thought his better half; he hasn't had
any supper. either"
. The pungent freshness Of lemon noel
and the tinkle OF the spoon In the
pitcher We're pleasant things that warm
night, and Mr.. fuckers senses seemed
TO greet them with approval: but as his
wife set the glass beside him he looked
: askance at it and spoke for the frs
time; Il don't want It."
J DO drink II. Isr'el. ifn cool Won on ,
.I-don't-want-it"
She said no more. but carried m,
; glass out TO the kitchen and left II N
the window. BY and by Mr.. Tucke,
) arose. and. with his eyes stin on m,
Vor,nr >onnfpr..Nl ...,...... IL. .... -.