Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1909-07-30

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IF I thought l could get the right
kind of a woman" Simeon stammered,
"a woman like you, now The bed
and mattress fairly rose in the air.
Simeon turned his head and coughed
violently.
~Oh, Mr.. Yates" broke In Miss Cul
len blushing becomingiy, .if l thought
that o would have-that l would
make you a good wife, She dropped
her sparkling eyes groundward- The
feather bed shook with renewed en-
ergy.
But l thought you said that you and
the deacon began Simeon.
"Oh- no." Miss Cullen interrupted.
II only mean that the deacon wanted
to marry me. Why, Mr.. Yates, you've
no idee how that persistin' old hypo-
critic has pestered me- The bedding
experienced a sudden terrific ~upheaval.
Simeon acted as If he were going to
explode. why. If l had let him l
honestly believe he would have got
down On his knees. l know / amt as
young as l once was, but / reckon l
know a man when l see one. Now,
you, Simeon Again she glanced at
him shyly.
Well, then" said Simeon, his eyes
twinkling. "if l should ask you to mar
ry me would you promise to-
'O-h, Simeon!" blushed Miss Cullen
softly. "I-I-yes, l believe l would.
Simeon"
would you promise" continued Sim
con, pinching himself to keep from
laughing aloud when be saw something
under the feather bed behaving scan
dalously-"would you promise to sick
your dog on that old idjit of a Dea-
con Partridge If he hangs around here
any moreT'
No sooner had he uttered those
words than from the midst of that pile
of household necessities there came
the visible Indications of a terrific
storm, followed by the subdued but
unmistakable sound of ripping cloth,
and the next second feather bed, mat
tress and deacon arose In concert, and
there, in the astonished presence of
Miss Cullen, stood Partridge, his arms
and legs tangled in the environments
of blue striped ticking and his head
and shoulders covered with a speckled
coating of downy feathers. Feathers
protruded from his eyes; feathers vi
brated on the end of his nose; feath-
ers waved majestically from the tips
of his ears. He couldn't see or hear
or speak for feathers. He could scarce
ly breathe for feathers
Pooh. pooh. poohr' he pulled, blow
ing great punches of feathers from
his mouth. "Ahchool Ahche-oo!~ he
his face, making the feathers stick the
closer to his scarlet cheeks.
Miss Cullen sprang to her feet, press
ed her trembling hands to her eyes
and shrieked.
"Well, wellr' said Simeon, regarding
him with overmastering hilarity.
"Well, well, this is the first time I ever
see a partridge runnin' around half
picked. Say. why don't you go out We
hind the barn and SINCE yo,nrself7-
Tho J-u<uu could mot t~pe4st~~rTe5
could not do anything but open and
shut his mouth like a chicken with the
gapes and go "Cut, cut, cut!-
why, he thinks he's an old setttn'
henri exclaimed Simeon, eying him
wonderingiy. Shouldn't wonder but
he'll be %a-scratchin' up your flower bed
next, Miss Cullen Say be added to
the perspiring deacon, why don't you
fly I'D in a tree and go to roost againY r
I'll didn't come here to be laughed
at" whimpered Partridge, extricating
himself from the ticking and nearly
crying with indignation. II came here
to call ON Miss Cullen
"Huhr' replied Simeon, pressing his
hands against his ~quivering sides and
regarding the other with austerfty.
Huh, dye reckon Miss Cullen hasn't
anything TO do but to entertain oyster |
riches? Why don't you run away some |
where's and stick your head in the
sand?-
II tell you 1 amt goin' to stand here
and be insulted by no squatty old hip
pypotamousel'' shrilled the deacon an
grily.
"Ruther be a hippypotamouse than to
be a featherweight," snapped Simeon.
IF you're so blame brave, why don't
you flap your wings and crow? Why
don't you let folks know that you're a
Shanghai that's not afeard of anything
In the barnyard even If your pinfeath-
ers amt all grown out?"
I'm a man of peace, Brother Yates
replied Partridge meekly. I'm an
elder in the church, and 1 don't want
- -
swear
May be that you're turnin' to an an
gel" retorted Simeon doubtfully, "but
you look to me more like a dominicker
that's too thin to bile and too tough to
fry. Anyway, you ought to know that
Miss Cullen's front yard amt no place
for a poultry show"
"Got as much right here as you have,