The Oakley herald. [volume] (Oakley, Idaho) 1908-1961, 1912-11-29

sy JULIA GREENE.


known one woman who took matters
neglected by bashful sutton into her
own hands and wound up the bust
ness 20 neatly and IN 20 novel q man
ner that she won plaudits from every
body who ever heard the story.
This woman was known the coun
ty over a. Aunt Patsy Mitchell. Aunt
Patsy lived alone In a big red brick
house that was set down In the mid
die Of an immense yard. The yard
, at one time was we'll shaded, but the
trees had been felled one by one until
nothing remained standing but q few
cedar trees and one monstrous oak.
This oak stood In . corner not far
from the front fence. II was the
most perfect specimen of fine, sym.
metrical forest tree to be found in that
part Of the county, and Aunt Patsy
had always been very proud of 1t. It's
grand type Of endurance she had
often been heard to say. Why, per.
feet az that tree IL, 1t ought to be
standing 500 years from now Know
Ing those to be her sentiments, the
surprise Of the nelghbors was un-
bounded when 1t was learned that
Aunt Patsy had sent for two wood.
cutters and had ordered them to
chop down the oak tree three feet
from the ground.
"A few days after the tree had been
telled and dragged away / was walk
ing past Aunt Patsy's house with
Walter Craig. Craig was q man who
had managed my fathers farm for
several years. From the top of his
head to the sole of his foot Craig
presented very peculiar appearance,
but his most striking single feature
was his mouth That organ was
kept wide open day and night, sleep
Ing or waking. Az we neared the
house we saw Aunt Patsy standing
at the front gate We went up and
stopped on the other side.
"'Aunt Patsy said Craig, I don't
want to be pryin'. but I'd like to know
what you had that tree whacked over
for?'
"I reckon she said. there's a
whole raft Of people hereabouts d
like to know that very same thing
"T reckon said Craig, there is
"'Well,' returned Aunt Patsy, !
don't wish any of EN- any harm, 80
do hope they won't hold their
breath till they find out. Not but
what they're goin' to some day, for
they are. but they'll have to bide my
time"
''Craig nodded respectfully. And
what you goin' to do with the stump
Aunt Patsy?' he asked. You ought to
have that drug up by the roots
ct oughtn't do anything of the
kind retorted Aunt Patsy. I've made
all amy cal'lations regardin' that
stdmp. and certainly don't carlate to
have 1t drug out
THAT was in the fall. All winter
the oak stump stood in Aunt Patsy's
front yard, bleak and drear, but
early in the spring two men who were
used to clearing or were called in
Tor consultation, and Aunt Patsy gave
them instructions to burn out the
heart of the stump. A week later the
only thing remaining of the prize oak
was an outer shell about four inches
thick.
"'Tm goin' to get some bees said
Aunt Patsy, when Craig and I stopped
at her gate soon afterward and asked
her about the skeleton. I've always
wanted a swarm. and cal'late to
turn this stump into a hive for 'em.
ri have the top rooted over. 1t
seems to me it'll be a real handy place
tor EN-
"The following day Aunt Patsy went
when she returned she was provided
with a box full of chisels and other
tools, of whose use even the village
carpenter was ignorant. When the
6rst warm spring days came Aunt
Patsy began her work on the unique
beehive. For two weeks she labored.
cutting and chiseling the hard wood
with rare skill and patience. By and
by it became apparent that the side
Of the hive facing the turnpike was
taking on the semblance of a human
lace. Aunt Patsy smiled grimly when
Craig leaned over the fence one night
and asked her whose portrait she was
carving.
Its the face Of the man I'm goin'
20 marry she said.
THAT report spread rapidly and
thereafter Aunt Patsy's open-air
studio was thronged with people anx-
lous to discover through the Inca
ments of the sclilptured face some
clue to the identity Of the intended
husband. don't know anything about
the work of professional sculptors,
but we saw before us, as If in life,
the squirting eyes, the flaring ears.
the high forehead and the gaping
mouth of Craig. My bare feet scarce
ly touched the turnpike as l ran
home to tell the news. l found Craig
out back Of the orchard blowing.