The Opelousas courier., 1897-10-02
A COMEDY OF ERRORS.
BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.

kitchef door SO violensG When
came in that keturah, his Nh@, col
t prehended9t once that something w
wrong.
Dear me, Abram," said she midi.
looking Up from the apples she WI
slicing for pan-dowdy, ''there amt L
occasion to take the door off il
hinges" What's the trouble now?"
"It's Betsey Briggs!" answered til
squire, seating himself, with som
vehemence, on a cushioned chair
"The airs that creetur gives hersel
exceed everything!"
"Airs?" said Mrs. Pack enham.
didn't know as them was Betse,
Briggs weaknesses"
IL dunno what you'll call it," sail
the squire. "Shc was out in the gar
den pickin' peas, an I jest lollered te
her, as l come by, to see if she'd Il.
! willin' to entertain the SEWN societ,
at her house next Thursday. And, i
you'll believe me, she didn't say q
word-neither yes nor mol"
swell, I never!" said Mrs. Pack.
enham. But" with q gentle desire
for extenuation, "you mustn't forget,
Abram, that Betsey Briggs is near
sighted"
"That don't prevent her hearin',
does it?" the squire demanded,
sharply.
II didn't think O. that" said meek
Mrs. Packenham, rejecting q golden
summer apple, which had a bruise on
its mellowest side. s'But I'm quite
sure Betsey didn't mean no harm.
Betsey never does"
II dunno how that may be-" said
the squire, morosely, ''but I do know
l shan't put myself out to speak to her
ag'in. unless she sees fit to apollo
gize."
II can't make it out at ALL" said
Mrs. Packenham, slowly shaking her
head.
Miss Carter was the next person
who stopped at the Packenham house.
She was a spare female, whose exact
age, like that of the obelisk. was
wrapped in mystery, and she was a
book-agent of the most rabid type
and deadly execution.
"P'raps you'd like to subscribe to
the Housekeeper's Weekly Visitor,
Mis- Packenham?" said she, rounding
off her sentences with a prodigious
sniff.
"Wal, no." said Mrs. Packenham.
We aren't much O. readers here.
Cor maybe your husband would
ike to take a copy of the Ten Lead
ng American Patriots?'" suggested
Hiss Carter, struggling with her ca
arrhal difficulty.
"Abram don't read nothin' but the
said Mrs. Packenham.
His eyesight amt what it was"
"Who's your neighbor down under
be hill?" sharply interrupted Miss
"Just beyond the brook. j.
here the bridge is out of repair?"
"Her name is Briggs" said Mrs.
ackenham-"Betsey Briggs"
swell, whoever she u.s." snorted
liss Carter, s'she hasn't no more man
ers than a moody COW. Not to notice
le, even, and me standin' there,
'lkin' myself hoarse to her. Not even
turn her head to look at mel"
"Dear, dear!" said Mrs. Packen-
I'M, 'sthat's very strange! Betsey's
dreadful sociable creetur. That
on'tseem like her a Bit"
"Well. thatdon't signify" said Miss
seating herself, and opening
r leather packet. ''But I'd just like
u to look at few recent publica- {
'ns I've got here"
ooh, don't trouble to show 'em to {
y" said Mrs. ~Packenham, apprehen- !
rely. II hain't no money to buy, e
time to read and the churnin's be- &
ndhand this mornin', and I've got t
to make" c
1T won't take q minute" persuas-
,ly argued Miss Garter. a
And she sat two mortal hours in the
kitchen and made Mrs. Pack t
ham subscribe to the Housekeeper's II
sekly Visitor for a term of three c
'rs before she departed. t.
''Betsey Briggs managed her the G
way groaned Mrs. Packenham,
she looked into the recesses of her r,
PITY pocket book. What will s.
ram say?" l.
ne clergyman, a slender dyspeptic $,
ing man OF six-and-twenty, stopped a,
the garden gate to give sister u
ggs . friendly good afternoon that N
!, but she did not return his polite
citing. He repeated it a little b
der and still she took no note Of Z.
specialized gaze and his new silk 81
a,