Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1903-01-22

Hes got n OF his mad spells
on" was the answer.
"That's plain TO be seen," shifted
the widow. But what, in goodness
name, has brought it on?"
"a dog broke into the fold last
night, killed q fine buck, and crippled
several ewes"
"For PHYS sake! Well, 1 neverl
That's enough to make a man mad!
Whose dog was it?"
"He thinks it was Squire Long
acres"
Not Bruno?"
81 believe he has only one dog"
swell, I for one, don't think Bruno
will kill sheep. 1 know he will not,
and the squire is too neighborly and
too wise a man to quarrel with, just
on a suspicion like that"
They'll quarrel, though" said
young Arson. Father has gone over
there, mad, and the first word he ut
tiers will start the squire"
Its a great pity" commented Mrs.
Sloan.
"That's what / say" assented An
son.
And he walked through the kitch-
en- and sought his own room
He seated himself at a desk which
stood in one corner and drew to-
ward his pen and paper. After a few
minutes hesitation, he dashed off a
few lines, read what he had written
carefully, and placed the sheet in an
envelope.
After directing it, he affixed a
stamp, and putting the letter in an
inner pocket, left the house by a
rear door, and walked across the
field toward the village.
He dropped the letter in the box
at the post office, and returned di-
rectly home. When he reached there,
he met his father.
"Anson," said the colonel sharply,
shat scoundrel, Longacre, refuses to
pay for the sheep his dog killed, and
I'm going to bring suit against him."
Eyes, SIR"
'.I've noticed lately that you've been
paying that girl of his a good deal of
attention. l want that stopped"
"Yes, sir"
"If l hear of you being together
again, I'll disinherit you. She's as
bad as her father, and he's no better
than a thief. His sister, Miss Doror
thea, is a very clever woman, and
the only really decent person about
the house." p
Mrs. Abigail Sloan, who usually
spoke of Miss Dorothea Longacre as
that "hatchet-faced old maid," told
young Arson that night that she for
one did not believe in these neighbor.
ly quarrels, and she meant to tel
Squire Longacre that she had nc
hand in the matter, and did not
believe his dog killed sheep, the first
time she saw him.
At about the same time Squire
Longacre was standing on the porch
of his house, angrily confronting his
daughter, Nellie, who had just re
turned from the village.
"Nell," he said, shat old rascal
Shortrood, has been here, and l ex
pect we'll have a lawsuit. He says my
dog. Bruno, killed his sheep las
night, and | told him fatty that if hi
said my dog killed his sheep, he wal
a liar!"
"Oh, papa!" protested Nellie.
swell, he's an unreasonable oil
wretch, and I'll give him all the Law
he wants. His sons no better. Ant
bark We, girl, if l ever catch you ant
that young puppy together again II
break my cane over his back and pu'
you in IA madhouse! Do you hear?'
eyes, papa"
"Well, heed, then!" cried the squire
warningly; and walked in to supper
Nellie retired to her room, took
letter from her bosom, and read TIN
contents eagerly.
"Dear fellow!" she said, and kisset
the sheet which had been penned onl.
a few hours before by young Arson
Then she went down to supper.
But little was said during the meal
The squire was cross and sulky, an,
Miss Dorothea was evidently in on
of her worst moods.
After the evening meal she put OF
her bonnet and threw a light shaw
over her bony shoulders.
"Where + you going, Dor?" aske'
her brother.
"None of your business!" was tn
sharp answer.
"You needn't be SO snappish abou
it!n
sSnappish!" cried the ancient maid
and she tossed her head. II shout
say snappish! A man as unreason
able as you are, talk about peopl
being snappish! Q%uarreled with on
Of the incest men in the county"
Hes a s%coundrel!" snarled tn
squire.
"He's a Christian gentleman" cor
tradicted Miss Dorothea. "and yo
ought to go down on your knees t
him and ask his pardon"
"I1l Q myself! If there's any &c
ing down on the knees, let him G
down to me. He insulted me In m
own house."
II suppose you'd go down on 'er
fast enough If that maneuvering oil
widow would ask you'll"
shes a lady" cried the squire.
"You'd better go tell her SO. IT.
be news to her, l reckon"
perhaps ! shall"
"Well, you'd better. A lady! Wei
heaven save the mark"
And, with this spiteful reflection
Miss Dorothea founced out Of tn
room.
She directed her steps toward
grove OF maple trees, which marke
tie boundary line between the farm