Griggs courier. (Cooperstown, Griggs Co., Dak. [N.D.]) 1885-1902, 1899-07-13
The Building Of a House

general interest and speculation.
One morning wagon loaded with
dressed sandstone blocks ground its
way through the ruts-the suburb not
yet having attained the dignity OF
paved streets-and stopped before the
corner lot. Mrs. Robertson saw them
first and she is rather pulled up about
it. which is absurd. The street is quite
a little. below the sidewalk, so much
of it having been carried away as mud
or blown away as dust, and the driver
of the wagon had to get out and in
spect the embankment very carefully
before he was satisfied that his big
horses with the flowing whiskers on
their hooks could pull their load up.
They pulled it up, but the driver swore
at them so loudly and vigorously that
the whole block was aroused. Then by
the time he had piled up the stone
everybody guessed that somebody was
going to build on Thurman's lot.
1t was undoubtedly, as the sign board
announced. a most desirable lot. There
were four leafy naples on it, and two
Gins that were just the right distance
apart to swing hammock comfort
ably. The grass had never been al
lowed to run riotously to seed and weed
az it had on the Stoke property and the
Watkins lots. Mr.. Thurman always
kept it shaved down with his lawn
mover, gathering in two or three crops
of hay for his cow in a season. No
tin cans were ever dumped surrepti-
tiously within it's corner stakes, and
the boys even respected it and built
their bonfres and played ball else
where.
Closely following the wagon three
laborers with picks, spades and shovels
came and proceeded to dig down to the
sewer and water mains, and two teams
of horses with plows and scrapers be-
gan to scoop unsightly gashes in the
green turf. More stone, some loads OF
sand and barrels of lime were brought,
and before nightfall the lot was dis
figured beyond recognition.
AS a general thing, the little white
box of an office where Mr.. Thurman
ostensibly conducts real estate and
insurance business is not overcrowded.
Mr.. Thurman, who has really no oc-
casion to transact any kind of business,
comes down regularly every morning
at nine o'clock and occupies himself
mainly in smoking venerable brler
pipe with long cherrywood stem-un-
til four O'Clock in the afternoon. In
winter his desk is drawn close up to
a stubby stove devoid of ornamental
ton and backing and in summer ne
drags chair outside, either to the
front or rear of the Office, as the shade
invites, and philosophically waits for
business. The day after the wagon
hauled the stone to the lot he had hard
ly unlocked his Office when four house
holders in the row opposite dropped in
and took possession of the three chairs
and a corner of the desk.
For few minutes they discussed the
extension of the waterworks system to
the subdivision and changes in the rail-
road time-card. Then Mr.. Forrest
preached the real subject of interest.
who's going to build on your lot?'
he asked.
Mr.. Thurman can be exasperating
when he: pleases, and it pleased him to
be so on this occasion. He looked at
the questioner blankly.
''Eh? Which lot do you mean" he
asked.
'The lot on the corner of Twentieth
avenue and Eastwood" chorused the
four. "You've sold the lot, haven't
you?" added Forrest.
Mr.. Thurman had not, to the almost
certain knowledge of the suburb, sold
lot before in year, but he removed
the pipe from his mouth and scratched
his gaunt cheek reflectively with sean
forefngrv for moment or two before
he replied. /.
''Corner of Twentieth, and Bass
wood" he repeated. LET me see, l
think I can tell you.' He turned to
his antiquated little safe, fumbled with
the combination, and finally opened it.
Then he took out big canyas-backed
Journal, opened that. ran his finger