The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1898-04-04
JOURNAL COURIER. MONDAY,

was transformed by Miss Gisella Bond
yesterday into a composite picture of
dancing deryish, a game of blind
mans buff, and mouse-pursued wo-
man.
1t all happened through an impecuni-
GUS and persistent tramp interrupt
ing woman when she had arrived at
the critical point In breadmaking. Miss
Bond was standing before the kitchen
table. In. front of her was a large pan
of fat, sticky dough which in the full
ness of time she intended setting on
the dining room table. AS Miss Bond
was kneading away for dear life and
homemade bread a knock shook the
kitchen door. For moment she hest
tated between inquisitiveness and duty,
but duty won out and she went on
kneading the dough. The knock came
a second time, and, being unanswered,
continued, growing louder with each
continuance. AT last the fair architect
of loaves was forced to open the door.
There she saw a dirty-faced unwhole-
some-looking tramp.
please ma am, can you give hun
CRY man something to eat?' he asked
in tones calculated to touch the heart
~~N~~- SN'N NN~NeA y
of a cactus.
Miss Bond closed the door, retired to
the pantry and returned with a plate
full of digestibles. But the tramp was
not satisfied. He turned piteous
gaze on his treatment and then, gazing
| up with the wistful look of 10-year-
old boy sizing up a cream puff, he MUIR
INJURED:
Cant you give me some clothes?"
! mo, Stree" answered the fair bread
maker. ''You can't wear my clothes,
you can't wear my mothers, and there
are no such men as you around this
| house."
| Then she started to shut the door,
for backward glance told her that the
| bread needed her attention. But the
| tramp was not to be put off, and jump
| ing inside the kitchen he seized the
young woman by the throat and Kissed
| in true melodrama villain style:
'Have a care, woman, how thou
| thwart mel"
Without appearing to be in the least
purturbed by this unexpected on
| slaught, Miss Bond turned to her pan
of dough, picked it up, and overturned
| the contents upon the intruder's head.
| With a howl of dismay the man let go
| his hold on her dress. But the young
| woman was as cool as cucumber in a
deserted refrigerator. She laid hold of
| the avalanche of dough that was
streaming down the tramps counten-
ance Patting and punching it like a
| lightning sculptor at a dime museum,
| in less than minute she had the
+a,, L. t.
| death mask of dough. Then stepping
| back, the better to example the work
| of art, she grew facetious.
| you need clothes, do you?" she
| queried, sarcastically, well, you just
| knead the dough, you dough-head,
| you
! A splitter Of bubbles and bullying
| dough came from the vicinity Of the
| tramp's mouth as he danced about the
kitchen and clawed frantically at his
/ head.
''Take it easy, now" cooed his tor
mentor. You don't want to take any
more chances at having your face bat
tered. You'd better get OUT
| By this time the frantic man had
| clawed enough dough away from his
eyes to be able to see the door through
mist Of batter, and had puffed a
| breathing hole in front of his mouth.
! He did right-about wheel for the
door, scooted out, fell down the back
steps, picked himself up, and ran sput-
| tering into the alley, clawing dough
from his face at every step. Miss Bond
watched him depart with all the calm
ness of a stole. Then, when it was all
over she ran to the front of the house
and collapsed in her mothers arms in
true woman fashion-From the Chica-
/ go News.