The river press. [volume] (Fort Benton, Mont.) 1880-current, 1911-02-08
eight jolly good fellows, and they had
sung with great enthusiasm.


sung with great enthusiasm.
"Mrs. Flint said that it was my duty
to live on for the sake of the cat, but
l cannot and will not. The disgrace
is too deep. No pirate would have act
ed worse. l cannot live and face 1t.
You not only drank the cider and sung
the song, but you deceived me when
you got home. You let me worry
about your being sunstruck. 1t is the
end, Samuel-the very end. Tonight l
depart for that place where there is
neither hard cider nor jolly good fel-
lers. You needn't put it on my tomb
stone that you drove me to 1t, but ev-
erybody will know it just the same"
Silence Of the Deacon.
Still no word from the deacon. That
cider was good. He could almost
taste it over again. He had drunk
more than he intended to, but human
nature is weak. And he read that
when two bees get to scrapping all the
other bees stood back and gave them
q fair show to knock down and drag
out.
II can take pizen, Samuel a
take pizen, cut my throat or hang my
self. I'm willing to leave it all to you,
though l must do n or tother.
Where had you rather l should do the
deed-upstairs. down cellar or right
here? l want to make it the handiest
and most convenient for you, not be-
cause l love you, but I'm a wife who
has never made trouble and don't
want to at the last end"
The deacon raised his eyes from the
circular and gazed at a picture Of Ma
poleon meditating at st. Helena, but
he wasn't trying to make up his mind
what to advise. He was wondering
why a bee didn't have sixteen legs so
that he could do more walking when
his wings got tired.
Samuel. you do not say" went on
Mrs. Dolby. well, l didn't expect
you to. You don't care how l get shet
Of myself so that I only go. Then you
can drink hard cider every day and
have no one to complain about it. You
will probably drink a barrel a week.
but as l shall be playing on a golden
harp l shan't care. Samuel. do you
want to kiss me q last FAREWELL"
Waiting For the 1hud.
If he did he didn't say so. He drop
ped his eyes to the circular and left
Napoleon to go to-. He read that q
honeybee could lick a caterpillar in
seventeen seconds by the watch and
that when a hornet and a bee met it
was a grapple to the death.
"Well, l will go upstairs and hang
myself. You will find my dead body
when you come up. There may be
tears on my pale, cold cheeks. Don't
hurry yourself any. Be as long in
coming as you want to. l shall try
not to let my tongue hang out when l
find myself going. After any one has
just eaten a piece Of h%uckleberry pie
they should keep their tongue hidden.
Well, farewell, Samuel"
She turned away, but Samuel was a
block of stone. Not even a toe crack
ed. He heard her 60 upstairs, but he
read on. He heard the scuf1e of feet
on the floor, but 1t was naught to him.
He heard choking, gasping sounds, but
he still read Of bees.
Fifteen minutes went by. The house
was like a grave.
Then some one descending the stairs.
Then some n entering the room.
Then some signing.
Then some one saying:
samuel. I have been looking for a
piece Of black cloth to make a patch
for your trousers, and I've found
something perfectly elegant. Just look
at it! I'll have it on before you are
up in the morning"
And the deacon stretched, yawned
and rose up to wind the clock and get
ready for bed. Another crisis had
passed.