The Hardin tribune-herald. [volume] (Hardin, Mont.) 1925-1973, 1946-01-03
Ill Wind
By K. W. BROOKS
Mcclure Newspaper Syndieato.
WNU Features.

ISVeI ne O1On 90 nuC0 DOI SIT on
his back porch, a sweeping view Of
the blocks back yards before him.
Naturally, he knew everything that
went on.
One late summer day old Mr.. At
well saw the family next door move
out and witnessed the moving in Of
a mild. moustached little man and
his pink-cheeked wife. They we're
quiet and u~nobtrusive. but old Mr..
Atwell wasn't deceived by appear
ances. He watched them carefully
for some mild indiscretion over
which he could argue a complaint.
The house next door was only six
feet away. Nothing untoward hap
pened until the end Of the week,
and then it was worse than he could
have hoped for.
On that hot Saturday morning he
swept a satisfied eye over Betsy's
neat and orderly vegetable garden,
bordered with zinnias. Old MI. At
wells eye hit the low hedge separat-
ing his yard from the neighbor's,
and Travelled along it to a point ex-
actly beside his own porch. The mild
little moustached man was working
there with new strips Of lath. What
in t%arnation you building?" roared
old Mr.. Atwell.
"A trellis, SIR" the young man
said, smiling. MY name is Bull
lock. I understand you're Mr.. At
well. I'm happy to be your neigh
Dor, SIR"
"a trelis? How big a trellis?"
Three feet wide and six feet
high. Susan, that's Mrs. Bullock,
thought it would be real pretty here.
Make u back yard more private.
She plans to have roses climbing
all over it."
Old Mr.. Atwen exploded like a
toy balloon. "Roses!" he snorted.
Il won't have it! Come On over
here. young man." old Mr.. Atwen
said. MI. Bullock climbed up I'M
certainly and sat down. "An the
place I got to sit is this back porch.
Bad govt. How'm I going to see
anything with that confounded OBJ
struction plumb up against my
face? And roses give me hay fe-
yer. Worse than blazes."
Il don't want to make trouble,
Mr.. Atwell, but it's my land, and I
don't know anything prettier on a
trellis than roses. But if you object
to roses we can plant something
else"
That evening Betsy lost her tenn
per completely. George" she said
testify, I've had about all I can
stand from you. Mr.. Bullock said
he wouldn't put there. Well,
what are you Grabbing about? If
you can't see from that side, you
can just sit on the front porch for
a SPELL"
He managed to stay off the back
porch for a few days. On the third
morning he stamped into the living
room and shouted, by Godfrey!
That pipsqueak has put six hens
and a rooster to housekeeping in
his back yard. III not stand for
it! Hens smell. Most as bad as
roses for my fever"
That night the wind ragged in from
the sea. Rain dashed against the
windows. Old Mr.. Atwell seemed
in high good spirits the text morn
ing. He hobbled downstairs wear
ing an unprecedented smile. He
bolted his breakfast and emerged
on to his back porch a scant half
minute after his neighbor. Bullock.
reached his yard.
The j%erry-built trellis lay forlorn-
~ fat. away from old Mr.. Atwell's
porch, a tangled mass Of broken
lath. well. l do declared" said
old Mr.. Atwell, a trife louder than
necessary. "A shame. l say"
Its too bad" agreed Bullock.
"Al the lath I had. too. Seems
to be the only thing blown over.
though"
Those steady sea winds can
whip things down mighty quick. Aft
er you worked SO hard on it, too.
Real bad luck, Bullock He sat
on the back porch all day long.
The wind blew again in the night.
and old Mr.. Atwell was aghast at
the sight of all six of Bullock's hens,
plus rooster. enjoying a field day in
Betsy's vegetable garden. "Bui-
lock!" he roared. Bullock came out
Immediately with hat and brief
case. MY goodness. Mr.. Atwell!"
he said. my hens are in your gar
den."
Don't you think I've got eyes in
my head?" barked old Mr.. Atwell.
'Of course they are! How did they
get there?"
I'm get them out right away. I'm
sorry. l guess the wind must have
blown them over the fence"
wind! Rubbish! You put those
chickens over in my garden On pur
pose. and I'm going to have the Law
on you'll"
Bullock rescued the last hen from
the shambles of his neighbor's gar
den. He picked up his brief case