The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1901-05-09

wv ~ W
"Yure igunce of womens is to blame"
in dis her berg is about enough ter
stroy de faith Of de childun of de
kingdom and make infidels and Inger-
soils of every one Of 'em.
Go home and scuse her o. takin it,
and may be will fessup? May be she
will, judge, but / misdoubts it. If
you'll excuse my not usin manners and
behavior in the intrust of truth and
boss sense, l wants ter leave it wild
you-it is seldom and rare man can
git woman to own to what he knows
to be de truf much less to fess just
what he beliebes to be so and HAYES
no proof on it. am mighty afeared,
squire, dat you maye be good judge
of law, but tell you now I amt a
placin much pendence on yer Judgment
Of womeps.
You won't have her rested? Well,
III go home and 'scuse her jest as you
say, and see what will see"
Grunlbling over the unreason of the
law Which rejected the word of an
oil mill hand and a fortune teller lady
coPlbined as insufficient to convict a
lFlarcener.' he slowly strobe out of the
Office.
| In about an hour there was a COM
motion among the loafers at the door
Of this theater where farces, comedies
and tragedies are daily enacted with
out admission fees, and the justice
looking up saw constable authorita-
lively leading up to the bar the coil
mill hand" and two deeply indignant
females, one light yellow and the
other chocolate brown Before the
justice or the constable could say a
word the oil mill hand commenced:
Its all your fault, squire. You'se to
blame for the whole thing. told you
you was ignunt of womens, believed
it then, but fore Gowd l knows it now.
You'se jest dat ignunt Of womens dat
am almost forcted to belibe you amt
never had no nanny; you'se to
| blame fer de whole rucus, OATS what
you is, Squire.
Flow you ter blame? Well, I'll tell
you, l goes home, does,-jess like you
tells me. OAR l find Narcess or settin'
in a cheere rockin' hersef and guz-
zlin' of beer. 1t made me mad shore
'nough dat da. woman's conscience
amt pesterin' her. So 1 go up to
her, squire, just as you told me, and
You low-down, bench-legged chile OF
a sea cook, you done stole my pin.
| You'se thief. Use got the 'squires
own word fer it. And what you reckon,
squire? Did dat woman confess
Not much. But that honey babe called
me liar-me, judge! l would say a
dern liar, as she said it her ownself
if warnt in cote. Now, no man amt
got no right to let pusson what's
hitler than him call him a lie. 'Tain'i
right. And besides it was same as
calling you liar, squire, fer said
what you told me.
so lambastes dat audacious won
an one on her jaw. 1 JUS couldn't
stand to have you call lie to my face
Now what you reckon dat woman
done? Take her chastisements ac
cording to the law and the scriptures
Not much; she was dat lost to reason
dat she fetches me one side the hait
with the Ratchet.
Nancy, she hears the racket from
the kitchen and comes sailing in ant
lows if there's any plantin' of fiste
to be did in dat house she reckonet
she'd take a han, and from the wa.
| vail IN, sno11o1 t0 oh
mus er took two hans. Fis' and skull
skull and fis', they has it, while wipe
off the blood fore it dries on my hal
and makes it hard fer to comb.
"Just den in steps your constable
Tho / done tole him we warn't 9
hurtin' nobody but jest tendin' to fam
lily juties, he rests us all three, an
there we is.
''All through your fault, squire. Al
through yore ignunce of womens.
oughtern to blame you, for you di
the best you knowed. but its tough fo
a perfessing Christian and his cook
ladies to be drug through the street
same as FOUNDERS, and bone-rollers.
, "'Dollar fine each and costs Of tn
cote?' Breach of the peace?
} We'll, you may call 1T a breach {
, the peace, or peace Of the breaches
JUS as yous mind to, but I nom
, mates it squire's pore judgment {
womens, l does. Three dollars fin
and twelve dollars costes. Just ser
that constable of yourn to the fore
man of the mill and he'll square hin
| up.
1 Come erlong. Nancy. Come long
Narcess, and you needn't ter be {
blinkin' them wall eyes of yourn at thu
squire. He amt studyin' yer. But
i1l s, Miss Himpsrtnunce. moi