est with the exception of a real old pair. They are the beaterees for silly actin'. Well, my husband never married any couple without makin' sure that there was no onlawful hindrances in the way o' past husbands and wives, an' so he says to the woman, 'Have you ever been married before?' An' she says jest as flippant, 'Yes, but he didn't live but three weeks; so it ain't wuth speakin' of.' Now wa'n't that scand'lous? It jest showed how lightly some folks look on the solemn ord'nance o' matrimony. "I reckon you know that the Porters have a boy at their house? No? Well, they have. He was born at twenty minutes to one las' night, or this mornin' ruther, an' old Susan Puffer is to do the nussin'. I heard a wagon drive by here lickety-split at most midnight las' night an' I sez to myself, sez I, 'I'll bet that's Hi Porter tearin' off for old Susan Puffer', an' I got up, an' wrapped a blanket around me, an' waited for the wagon to come back; an' when it did, I called out, "That you, Hi an' Susan?' It gives 'em a good deal of a start, but Susan called out that it was her, an' I went back to bed. Some folks would of been curiousminded enough to of went right over to the Porters', but I ain't that pryin' an' I didn't go over till after breakfast this mornin'. "It's a real nice baby, an' it's goin' to be the livin' spit o' Hi exceptin' for its nose, which is its mother's all over; an' its mouth is the livin' counterpart o' its grandfather Porter's an' it's got the Davis ears. You know its mother was a Davis. I hope it won't have to be a bottle-riz baby. I don't care how good these infant foods may be; I don't think that a bottle-riz baby is ever the equal of one that ain't bottle-riz. The Lord must of intended mothers to nuss their babies, or He wouldn't of made 'em so they could. So I must you be goin'? What's your hurry? I'd love to have you set all afternoon. It's so long sense you have been here, an' I do so enjoy havin' the neighbors drop in an' tell me all that's goin' on. I never go no place to hear the news. I wish you'd come in real often an' talk to me. "Looks some like rain. I hope it'll be fair to-morrow, for I 'low on goin' over to Lucindy Baxter's to spend the day. Me an' her went over to Ware Monday, an' had a real nice all-day visit with Lucindy's married daughter. She's real nicely fixt, an' she had three kinds of cake besides cookies for tea. Seems to me one kind an' the cookies would o' been plenty. Mebbe she wanted to let us see that her husband was a good pervider. I went over to Zion Tuesday, an' Wednesday me an' Nancy Dodd went over to Becky Means's, and helped her quilt her album quilt; an' she had a chicken-pie for dinner that went a little ahead of anything I ever et in the way of chicken-pie. Nancy's a good cook anyhow. She gives a kind of a taste to things that only a born cook can give. I'm goin' over to the fair in Greenfield Friday; so I-do come over again soon. I git real lonesome stayin' to home close as I do, an' it's nice to have some one come in an' talk to me as you have. Good-by. "Yes, I'll come over soon. But don't you wait for me. Come when you kin. I'm allus to home. Good-by. See my little chicks? I put a hen on thirteen eggs, an' she hatched out every blessed one of 'em. Wa'n't she smart? An she laid all the eggs herself, too. I got another hen comin' off on the tenth. Didn't the minister preach beautifully Sunday? I dunno as I ever heard a more upliftin' sermon. I see that his wife has her black silk made up that the Ladies' Society gave her on her birthday. Didn't seem to me it fit real well under the arms. Well, good-by, good-by." By permission of the author and the Christian Endeavor World. IF I CAN BE BY HER BY BENJAMIN FRANKLIN KING I d-d-don't c-c-c-are how the r-r-r-obin sings, If I can b-b-b-be by her. I don't care if the p-p-p-people s-say I'd c-c-c-cuh-climb the highest p-picket fence. If I could b-b-b-be by her. If I can be by h-h-her, I'll s-s-swim The r-r-r-est of life thro' th-th-thick an' thin; An' s-s-s-stand out on the c-c-c-oldest day, You s-s-see sh-sh-she weighs an awful pile, I b-b-b-braced right up, and had the s-s-s-and He said: "Wh-wh-what p-p-prospects have you got?" It's all arranged f-f-fer Christmas Day, An' then s-s-some th-th-thing that cu-cu-couldn't be B-b-b-because I'll b-b-b-be by her. From "Ben King's Verse," by permission of Forbes & Co., Chicago. MCCARTHY AND MCMANUS ANONYMOUS An Irishman named Patrick McCarthy, having received an invitation to visit some friends who were stopping at one of the prominent hotels, suddenly realized that his best suit needed pressing. He sent the suit to his friend Michael McManus, the tailor, with instructions to put it in proper shape and to return it with all haste. After waiting an hour or more, he became very impatient, and asked his wife to go for the clothes, telling her to be sure to bring them back with her. When she returned he was surprized to find she had not brought back his suit, and he said: "Well, where are my clothes?" "Don't ask me, don't ask me. I'm thot mad I'm almost afther killin' thot McManus!" "Pfhot's thot? Pfhot's McManus done with thim?" "He's done nothin' with thim, and he barely took notice of me." "Shure woman, dear, pfhot's that you be tellin' me? Did Mac insult you, for the love of hivins tell me quick?" "Well, I will tell you. Whin I wint into the shop, there was McManus; instid of sittin' on the table as usual, he was sittin' forninst it, with a long shate of paper spread out, and he was a-writin' and a-writin' and a-writin'. Says I, 'Mr. McManus.' No answer. Again I says, 'Mr. McManus.' Still no answer. Says I, 'Look here, Mr. McManus, pfhot do you mean by kapin' my husband waitin' for his clothes?—have you got thim done?' Without raisin' his head he says, 'No, I haven't,' and wint on writin' and writin'. Says I, 'He's waitin' for thim.' Says he, 'Let him wait.' Says I, 'He won't.' Says he, 'He'll have to.' Says I, 'Pfhot do you mean by writin' thot long document, knowin' well thot my husband is waitin' for his clothes?' Says he, 'Well, if you must know, it's important business. Do you see thot list ?' pointin' to a long list of names. 'Well,' says he, 'thot's a list of all the min thot I can lick in this neighborhood.' Says I, 'Is thot so?' Says he, 'Yes, thot is so.' Says I, 'Mr. McManus, have you got my husband's name on thot list?' Says he, takin' up the list and holdin' it near my face, 'Look at thot, the very first name on the list!' and I was thot mad I couldn't talk." "Do you mean to tell me thot he had my name on thot list ?" "I do, and the very first one,-on the very top." "Well, wait till I go over and see McManus." A few minutes later Mr. McCarthy entered the shop of Mr. McManus, and said, "Is McManus here?" McManus replied, "He is and he's very busy." "Is thot so?" "Yes, thot is so." "Look here, McManus, pfhot makes you so busy?" "Oh, I'm just doin' a little writin'." "Well, what is it you're writin' ?" "Well, I'll tell you. I'm makin' out a list of all the min thot I can lick in this neighborhood, and a moighty big list it is. Just look at thot." "Say Mac, is my name on thot list ?" "Is Pat McCarthy's name on this list? Well, you can just bet your life it is, and it's the very first one!" "Is thot so, McManus ?" "Yes, thot's so.” McCarthy, taking off his coat and rolling up his sleeves, said: "Look here, McManus, I can lick you." "Did you say you thought you could lick me?" "I said I can lick you." "You say you can lick me?" "Yes, thot's what I said." "All right. Off goes your name from the list.” AND SHE CRIED BY MINNA IRVING Miss Muriel Million was sitting alone, Her fluffy blue tea-gown was fastened awry, "Oh, what is the matter?" I said in alarm, But she buried her face in her 'kerchief of lace, "Come out for a spin in the automobile, Or let's take a drive in the sunshiny park, But refusing all comfort she pushed me aside, "Pray whisper, my darling, this terrible wo, By permission of the author and of the New York Herald |