The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1907-08-29

their buggies, and, after glaring and
snOrting at each other for time, Mr..
Jones sarcastically said:
Il haven't seen anything of them
grasshoppers yet
'"They are probably waiting to come
along with your tater bugs"
"Um! Mr.. Talbot, If that is your
name, pity the folks in this village
who have to put up with your ways"
"Um! Mr.. Jones, and that is un-
doubtedly your name, for l never saw
a Jones who didn't look like a mean
man. If was you. I'd go hang myself
and let my town take a rest"
apologize, sir! Apologize at oncev'
"Not until you apologize first
They met again on the highway and
again at funeral and a town meet
Ing. and each meeting made them long
to kill each other. The son and the
daughter were forbidden under all sorts
Of pains and penalties even to bow to
each other, but their lovemaking could
not be stopped by such edicts. There
was no question of love, but that Of
marriage was held in allegiance III
hopes that their respective fathers
might undergo change Of opinion. 4
mutual friend undertook to bring this
about. He called upon the peppery
Mr.. Jones first. He started out with a
lot Of sweet oil, but he hadn't talked
over half minute when Mr. Jones in
terrupted with:
THAT will do, sir. A year ago
| told that old fool of Talbot that 1t
looked like good year for tater bugs.
and he up and insulted me-"
But there were no tater bugs last
year."
Makes no difference I have met
him two or three times since, and
tell you he Is cantankerous old rep
rebate. If he's going to continue liv-
ing in the state, I'll get out of it,
! Nothing could be done with the pep
perry Mr.. Jones, and so the mutual
friend tried the peppery Mr.. Talbot.
He had only stated his errand when
the latter shouted out:
"StOp, sir! do not want that mans
name mentioned in my presence! II
ever there was an obstinate old fool
who needed to be kicked from here to
Hornsdale, he is the one. He owes
me an apology, and shall insist that
he get down on his knees to make it.
Be friends with Jones-J-o-n-e-s! You
don't know me. sir.'
But yet things were working. Provi.
dence or something else always seeks
to bring things out right in case OF
true love. One day party Of people
living in Winston went out to hue
kleberry swamp to gather berries. and
the peppery Mr.. Talbot went with
them. On the same day party from
Hornsdale visited the same swamp
and the peppery Mr.. Jones was among
them. The two parties kept separate
/ for some hours, and they had only
drifted together when thunderstorm
came up. At the same time a messen
ger arrived from Winston with the
news that the young couple had gone
off and been married. The people had
to seek the shelter of the trees. and II
so happened that the two peppery ole
men found themselves side by side
Il will never recognize the mar
riagev' exclaimed Mr.. Jones as ht
found himself face to face with his
enemy.
"Nor eitherr'
"Your daughter plotted to trap my
son.
"'Tis false, sir! 1t was right thu
other way"
They would probably have kept OF
quarreling for the next half hour. bu
a thunderbolt shot out of the blacl
cloud and struck the tree underneath
which they were standing. Five peo
pie were knocked senseless and con
tinued in that state for quarter Of al
hour. Then the twe l,eppery old mel
recovered consciousness, sat up ant
looked at each other.
/ talbot, where are WEI" slowly ask
ed Jones'
'In heaven, Jones'"
sWere we killed by lightningY
1--WE must have been"
.Well. as we are in heaven and th,
children married, don't want to carr.
no grudge against you. I'm willing t
apologize If you are"
/ well. I'm sorry"
"So'm l."
OF course they found out later ol
that they were no nearer heaven thai
the huckleberry swamp, and of cours
there was little humiliation ON tn
part Of both, but, like sensible mer
they buried the hatchet and rode hom
together to congratulate the happ
couple.
Travelling Sand Hills
On the coast Of Pomerania there ar
large tracts Of sand heaped up by th
wind, hundreds of yards in breadt
and from 60 to 12O feet high. an
these hills, propelled by the wint