The Hollering Woman.

Cromwell Argus, Volume VII, Issue 369, 5 December 1876, Page 7

The Hollering Woman.

There is one " hollering woman," in every street. A woman who never goes after anybody, but always calls across the street —who never looks for her children, but rushes to the front gate and shrieks for them, until, in the pauses of her shouting, she hears them answering from the room she has jusc left. Every street has one " hollering woman"; no street has more, for as soon as two "hollering women" are thrown by pitiless fate upon one street, the neighbors vacate and emigrate until rents come down, or, as it oftener happens, one of the " hollering women" pulls up stakes and goes elsewhere, for they caunot brook opposition.

The " hollering woman" generally manages to keep her street in a lively state of elecutionary excitement, and if you happen to live within understanding distance your diurnal serenade is something like this : " Tommy ! Tom-wie / Tom-my ! Oh, Tom ! You Tom ! Come right along here and break up some of this dry wood, or I'll break your back ! Mary ! You, Mar-ee ! You get right down off that tree-box this minute, you great torn-boy, or I'll skin you within an inch of your life ; Ma-rpe / Oh, Miss Pinkhard ! Won't you tell your milkman, when he comes, to stop at my gate ? Mine come this morning before we was up. E-ras-mus/ Erasmus ! jff-e-e-rasmus ! Oome right home and take this pail of molasses back to the grocery, ani tell him if he can't send what I ordered t don't want any. \#-ra*-mus, 1 say! Oh, Miss Haralson! How's the baby's meales ? Did you try that tea I sent over last night ? Who cut your new polonaise ? Ma-ree / Ma,-ry ! Where's Emeline gone to, I'd like to know. Didn't I tell you not to let her get out of your sight a minute ? Now, you hunt her up and bring her right home. Good-morning, Miss Barnaby ! Did you know they was burglars over to Throops's last night? Got in at the kitchen-winder, and took a pair of Mr Throop's

pants with a dollar and a half in 'em, and Miss Throop's big jet breastpin. Where you going ! Tom-my ! Tom-ee / Oh, Tom ! Mary 1 say ! E-ras-mwW jUh, Miss Pink hard !" The serenade continues at random all day long, and is familiar to everyone who has lived within gunshot of the " hollering woman."