The Chickasha daily express. (Chickasha, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1899-current, 1906-05-01
A Backyard
Shooting Match

There was target practice on al
the Backyard Shooting club. 1t was
to be a match between the president
the vice presient and the secretary
the treasurer did not shoot. and
they let her hold the stakes be-
cause she was always fair; the treas.
urer was only a girl, anyway; she
liked all the members, and showed no
Partially. She was also umpire for
the same reason.
She's just as good as boy" said
the president, "only she can't pitch.
Blu. amt blamin' her for that neith-
er. Girls is built different in their
bones, so'st they can't throw good"
The treasurer was good to look
upon, with her round red cheeks, big
brown eyes and tousled hair. Not a
boy in the club could beat her run
ming, and as for climbing trees. she
was like a squirrel She could climb
higher than any of them, because, as
the vice president explained: She's
light, and she dast go out on little
limbs as would bust with us boys"
But as | said, there was target
practice on. The guns used were
Bricky Smiths best improved unpat-
ented Goliath pea-shooters, and the
target was an old leather carriage
cushion, on one end of which the Sec
retary had painted a fresh spot of
white paint. The carriage cushion
was neatly tied to the post Of the
clothes-horse, and was all that could
be desired as target.
Because, you see, If you hit It."
explained the president, "the pea will
make spot on the paint, and wen
know who gets nearest the middle"
1t was bound to be an exciting af-
fair, for the stakes were high-the
presidents second best jackknife, the
vice presidents jewsharp and the sec-
retary's red crayon pencil were in the
hands Of the treasurer, all to be turned
over to the winner.
The shooting began promptly at
$3.50 Of a bright Saturday afternoon.
Three shots apiece were the limit for
the trial.
First the worst!" said the presi-
dent; SO the secretary had to begin.
He fred his first shot wild; nobody
ever knew where it landed.
Bing! The second hit the edge OF
the bull's-eye.
Bang! The third thumped on the
carriage cushion somewhere, but left
no mark on the white paint.
The secretary saw his red crayon
pencil passing from his possession,
and he sighed as he stepped back out
Of the eye Of the public.
Second the same!" called the pres
ident, and the vice president took his
place In the arena. His right hand
trembled slightly, but his eye was
firm, for he longed to possess the pres
dents second best jackknife.
Biml The carriage cushion re-
sponded, but left no sign.
Boom! A tiny spot appeared in the
bull's-eye just far enough In to make
the secretary emit groan Of despair
BAN! Still nearer the center, and
the vice president retired with the
fire Of hope burning in his right eye
he had shut the other SO tight when
he sighted the mark that it hadn't
popped open again as yet.
Last the best Of all the camel" 1t
was now the presidents turn. He
took his place haughtily. He meas
ured the distance and calculated.
Bing! The pea few far, but there
was no thud on the target. The presi-
dent frowned and placed another pea
in the sling.
Pong! It few and hit some part OF
the clothes-horse. The president knit
his brows SO tight that he could hard
ly unravel them.
Whang! Tang! There were two
distinct thumps. All gathered around
the target. Yes. there was the tiny
mark OF the presidents pea, farther
in than the others; but square in the
very middlest middle OF the center OF
the bulPs-eye was larger mark and
a small stone lay on the board be-
meath.
The treasurer laughed so hard that
she nearly dropped the stakes.
That's my stone!" she said. "The
president wasn't doing much, and l
turned around to nre that stone at
pear. and It slipped out OF my hand
and went backwards"
THE stakes is hers" said the presI-
dent. manfully. "She hit the middle"
The treasurer smiled joyfully and
then laughed again.
Il don't want en-" she said. THE
knife's too mortal dull to cut any
thing: can't play the jewsharp. and |
couldn't draw barn door with the
pencil; 50 you can all have 'em
back"
WELL" said the president. III that
Isn't just like girli"-Sarah Noble
Ives, in Boston Globe.