The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1902-01-03
\ "Yaas, dat'sSall az, ten per cent"
the deacon smiled. 4,

" = oaSs oot MI a. tcA PEE ceAts
the deacon smiled. ),
= The old man had many customers
among the wealthy residents of the
city; and to-day, as he went from house
to house, he was especially jubilant,
for trade was good. By the middle of
the afternoon he had sold the last
chicken and turned his mules head
toward home, his, pockets heavy with
the. silver they had brought. And as
he turned away, a figure which had
kept within block or two of him all
through the day, stopping at the same
houses, with the ostensible object of
selling pair of chickens upon which
an impossible value had been placed,
turned away also, entering a street
which led toward the business portion
of the city. Reaching that, the man
hurried along until he came to book
store. This he entered.
IL low to git book what 'splains
bout names an t'ings," he said to the
clerk. "Reckon yo' hab one?"
"A dictionary, you mean-like this?"
"Yo' s'pose hit got-got Microbe into
hit?" the customer asked, anxiously.
"I'm lowin' to fin if hits sickness
name-what brings measles an things.
yo' know"
The clerk stroked his mustache.
"Well-er-I suppose you might call
it sickness name that way" he re-
piled, blandly; "a disease germ, you
see." He opened the book and turned
several pages. "There it isl
Microbe bent over the book eagerly,
his eyes Frightening.
"Yaas, OATS him, sho'," he ejacu-
lated. "M-i-c-r-o-b-e." His eyes ran
down the page. "Yo' reckon dar's an
udder name mos lax hit, but widout
sickness an bad meanin'?'' he asked,
presently. "Yo' see, I know man who
made mistook in name, an now he's
a huntin' TO- de right one"
The clerk looked at the book.
"Let's see," he said; "Micro-micro
-micro-how would, Microscope do?
That's a scientific NAME"
"No sickness nor notin' hidin' benin
hit, is dar?"
'No, indeed; it's just scientific in
strument."
Microbe showed his teeth.
"Den I reckon hits all right, an tank
yo', sah."
Late that evening, as Deacon White
was sitting upon his front porch, gloat-
ing over the profits of the day, he
heard quick, firm step, and looked up
to see Microbe-or Microscope-enter
the yard.
"Good ebenin', Microbe," he called,
Hospitality; glad yo' come. done git
mighty tired sellin' all dem chickens;
if It want for dat been brung yo'
money. rs done paid Mist Williams an
Mist Buckler."
Oats all right. How dey sell?"
"Mazin' good; done sell cherry one.
Here, take dis cheer an hep me count
de money. Oar. Now les see, yo' glib
me two hun'erd-two hun'erd at seben
cents, make fo'teen dollar; an ten per
CEN off Observation-Disclosures, jes' twelve
dollar an sixty cents. Yaas, OATS right,
Here's yo' money"
"How much die, de res git?" he
asked.
"Jes' de same, Oh co'se," he snort
ed; "yo' aim s'pose I sell one pusson's
chickens TO- one price, an anudder pus-
sons TO- anudder,. price, is yo'P No,
sah!" emphatically; Il aim dat kim oh
man." ::
II been in city myself to-day" he
announced, presently; "yo' see, low
on gittin' book to study, an hab
two mo- chickens dat's plenty big to
SELL"
"Yaas, an so yo' done swap de chick
ems TO- de book. But what yo' gwine
study, .Microbe?'
"Dat aim matter jes' now. De funny
part was dat when take my chickens
to a house, de folks low dey jes' buy
a dozen pair TO- so cents pair, an
de mex house dey done buy jes' de
same, an de mex an de mex; an
when bime by looks up an sees yo'
ies' ahead, dat 'splains hit. I been
tryin' to sell at jes' de same houses
yo' done sell at. But when I thinks
hit ober, I lows better keep right on
dat way, TO- yo's had 'sperience in
sellln'; so Jes keeps rOun arter 20
till yo' done sell de las chicken. An
rs mighty glad dat none aim fotch less
den fifty cents pair, an some go high
as sixty
There was a long silence, then a
husky: "What 20 gwine do bout hit,
Microbe?"
"Oh, nufin," placidly. IT'S gwine be
yo' son-in-law, an I ain car to hab
disputa tionin' in de family. Now, dom
yo' git mad" as the deacon rose storm
lily to his feet; 'I's jes' fixin' things de
bes' way TO- 20. S'pose go tell Mist
Williams an Mist Buckler, an some o.
dem tudder folks yo' do tradin' long
OBJ? Aim yo' see dar gwine be tar an
fedders an rail, an mos likely some
body be run out de town, an den I
hab to marry Cassia anyway, jes' to
keep her from feelin' bad. Ain yo' see
dat?"
The deacon sank heavily into his seat.
"Yo'been mighty smart, he sneered;