The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1902-12-12

"What in the deuce do want with
baby carrlages?" roared Mr.. Hunt.
"I'rn looking for salt cellars, and red
turkeys, and rubber-toed shoes with
no heels On 'em."
"Salt cellars down in the basement,
sar," said the boy, land shoes on. the
second floor, three sections from the
'front.'"
"Confound you, don't 1 know it?'
cried Mr.. Hunt, land if you'd had
the brains of yellow hen you'd a
let me out where I wanted to stop"
Didn't know where you wanted
to stop, sar."
swell, I'll walk down to where I
want to Co." said Mr.. Hunt, shaking
the elevator dust from his feet and
hurriedly going down the first fight
of stairs he encountered. He brought
up in the ladies' underwear depart
ment, and rushing at the dapper
young salesman, who was flirting
with a young woman in red waist,
he made known his wants.
II want some medium bright tur.
keys, and canvas and mazarine blue
hooks and eyes, and humps, and
some black ladies' stockings, No. 14A,
with rubber heels. And salt cellars,
dozen of 'em. By Jove, I'll have
enough of 'em this time"
''This is the ladies' underwear de-
partment," said the clerk, >"show you
| some corsets for SO cents, marked
down from 60 cents"
what in the name of old Harry
do you suppose I want of corsets?
What do care what they're marked
down from? Good Lord! what a
! pack of dumb fools there is in this
store! I'm after salt cellars, and"
1.-THE salt cellars are in the basement
fourth section from the front-take
the elevator" said the clerk, and then
he smirked at the young lady and re-
marked, "Another fool OF husband
shopping for his wife,"
"Where's the turkeys and the Prus-
sian blue?" roared Mr.. Hunt.
eve don't carry paints in stock"
said the clerk t'Go to Mulligan's, on
| Devon street."
Mr.. Hunt rushed to the stairway.
down which he tumbled two steps at
a time, and landed in a corner where
apparently all things came to an end
in large apartment filled with WELL
dressed ladies with very slim waists
and very red cheeks. He rushed up to
a tall, imposing specimen in flaring
red cape.
"Can you tell me, madam" said he,
"where I can find the cream jars, and
the Henriettas, and the stockings for
black ladies, number fourteen and
a-half, with no toe nails?"
"Good Lord!" cried dapper little
clerk in spectacles, cts an escaped
lunatic, and he's talking to dummy!
Dear me, we shall all be murdered
and assassinated in our beds!"
INV good man." said the fioor-walk-
er, rising to the occasion like hero.
"come with me-, Come right along
with me-any thing to keep him quiet
he said, in a whisper, aside to tho
clerk, lit don't do to excite 'em-come
right along with me. No trouble at a IL
right this way" and he took Mr..
Hunt by the arm and led him along to-
ward the rear Of the store, where two
burly policemen were standing.
'.Let go of my arm, you laundering
little dude you'll" cried Mr.. Hunt,
wrenching himself free. II may DO
green in a blasted dry goods empori-
um, but don't need any little bantam
rooster to lead me round! I'm look
| ing for Prussian blue, and fourteen and
a-half needles, and some canvas-toed
I shoes, and"
"Officer, you'll have to take this poor
fellow in charge" said the man who
was conveying Mr.. Hunt. HE is prob
ably an escaped lunatic. He has been
| cavorting around this store for the
past half hour, and he's as mad AZ .
March hare!"
"You'd better keep your hands on
from me-" said Mr.. Hunt, warningly.
..I'm peaceful citizen looking for red
turkeys, and Henriettas with blue cam
brics, and hump-eyed hooks number
fourteen and a-half, and salt cellars
and mazarine blue"
"Good Lord, jim" said one OF tho
policemen to the other, II do believe
the fellows trying to do some shop
ping for his wife!"
"You've hit the nail square on tho
head. CAPTAIN" said Mr. Hunt, "trying
to is the very word. I haven't bought
a thing yet. And I'll be everlastingly
fingered if I can see how it is that
women stand it, and how they ever
manage to- find anything beats mel
Yes, I've been trying to do some shop
ping for Polly. I'm wet with perspira-
ton, and I'm tired as fox hound"
my good man." said the policeman
"I'm a married man. My wife's name
is Betsy. know just how it is, for I've
been there. No matter what you've
done, you're excusable."
"But what am to tell Polly?" asked
Mr.. Hunt, wiping his hot forehead.
"Go home and tell her that you clean
forgot all about it," said the friendly
,:~ UchaslJ FORGIVE yOu for