Omaha daily bee., 1899-06-18

a long time the story Of the fox hunt was
the only piece of oral literature the chill
dren had to discuss, but there was always
something new to be said of Hodo. or the
sorrel horse, or Joe Maxwell.
Sweetest Susan hardly knew whether to
feel sorry for Old Scar Face or not. Some
times she was inclined to regret his taking
Off, but when she remembered the scream
of the poor little rabbit she was willing to
believe that the old fox had received his
deserts.
AS for Drusilla, she had not a spark Of
sympathy for Old Scar-Face. I'm glad
dey cotch im," she said. "De dogs done
i'm des like he done de yuther creeturs. An
pom top er dat, he sot up dar an grin an
brag bout how he gwne ter outdo um. l
hear OIL folks say dat dem what do de mos
braggin' is de mos no count. I'm glad dey
got i'm. He had plenty time ter go way;
he des hung 'roun' here kaze he b'lieve dey
amt no dog kin outdo i'm"
This sort of talk led, of course to Joe Max
we'll and Hodo. and before Buster John
knew it he would be describing the famous
chase over again. For a long time this
was interesting, but after awhile the small
audience grew tired of hearing 1t and Bus
ter John grew tired of telling it.
Christmas and New Year came and went
and were followed by weather so cold
and stormy that the youngsters had to stay
in the house, and Johnny Bapter had as
much as he could do to keep the big
hickory logs piled high enough in the wide
fireplace. A fire big enough, it seemed, to
roast an OK would hardly keep the dining
room or the sitting room warm. 1t rained
and seeted and then showed, and the snow
stayed on the ground long enough to give
the children an opportunity to enjoy them
selves on some clumsy sleds that Johnny
Bapter made for them.
But toward the last of March heavy
rain storm came roaring and sweeping
along, and after that spring came out of
her hiding place and brought warm sun
shine and the flowers with her. In a lit
tie while the peach orchard, which had
looked so bleak and cheerless few weeks
before seemed to be covered with pink snow
and the mocking birds flew about singing.
Johnny Bapter had one sign for spring
weather which he said never failed. You
see dem peach blooms? Well, OIL Jack
Frost kin come an nip um, but when you
see an hear de mockin' bird singin' while
he lyin', you kin go on an plant yo' corn
an cotton, kaze dey amt gwine be no mo-
fros' dat season.
1t was while the peach orchard was in full
blossom that the ChlldrenS mother CHANGED
to remember that she had another supply
of clothing for little Billy Biscuit, the wait
who had been left with Miss EWiry Bobs
"to be called for" as the saying is. Natu-
rally enough, the children were keen to go;
Sweetest Susan, because she wanted to play
with Billy Biscuit who, she said, was the
cutest thing in the world, and Buster John
because he wanted 10 have another talk with
Mr. Bobs He had an idea that Mr.. Bobs
could tell him something new or show him
something queer every day in the week and
Saturday, too. Buster John was still loyal tC
Aaron. More than that, Mr. Bobs was sc
different from the son of Ben Ali In all re-
spects that there was no danger that admra-
tion for one woum clash with admiration
for the other. Aaron was Aaron and there
was nobody like him but himself. Likewise
Mr. Bobs was Mr.. Bcbs, quaint and original
As both the children had a motive fol
going they besieged their mother singlS
and collectively until, finally, she was
Obliged to surrender and give her consent
II she had known about the wonderful bub'
Bile II is probable she would have refused
but since their experience with Mr., rhimble
finger the children had grown somewhat ret,
icent about their adventures. They hat
dropped hints here and there about wha
they had seen, but they were laughed at al