THE COOKS STORY.

Tuapeka Times, Volume XXIII, Issue 1672, 8 March 1890, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE COOKS STORY.

lOLD ITS HEBSELF,

" No," I said ; "go away." I always did say thai, when they came a bctheria' me in the kitchen, those .beggars. •' No," I said ; but he would come in, and stood lookin' so wretched that I oouldn't do nothin' fiercer than to shake the soup ladle at him and yell ; "Well, now, what do you want ?" " Something to eat," says he, as meek aa a l&mb. "Moiher is sick, and father is dead, and ' she and I and baby era so hungry I" "Jest the same old story," says f, " that every beggar-boy has told me for years. There — go away." And I remember, aa I did it, fastenm' my breastpin, that hsd a trick of oomin' undone. I know by that that I had it on. It wag one I'd had given me, and it was worth a great deal. It had be- | longed to a rich lady I waited on, and poor folks generally don't have suoh pinß. Bui he J looked so pitiful that my heart melted, and aaya I, " I know you're lyin', it's jest like me to bo imposed upon. Sit down there and eaii your breakfast, and I'll give yon some scraps afterwards." And then I went on with the puddia', keepin' my eye on tha child. He was as white as a sheet, and his cheeks as hollow as a man's of eighty, and his poor little feet were bare, and the tears would riae into my eyes whether I would or no ; and I felt sort o' wicked for havin' spoken so at first. The short and the long of it is, I stuffed his basket as full as full could be, and sent him off stuffed full too ; and I went back to the kitchen, and was feeliu' quite contented like, and as though I'd done my duty, when, feelin' somethin' queer about my collar, I put my hand up and the pin was gone. I looked all cvei the floor. It wasn't there. I hadn't been out of tho room, and in a moment I knew who had got it. It was that beggar-boy. That cani6 of harborin' beggars for the first time in my lifo. I didn't atop long to think. I jest pitched what I had in my hand on the floor. 'Twas on'y & wooden bowl ; but I'd a-done it jest the same, I'm afraid, if it had been a chaoy dioh to ho stopped out of nay wages. And oni I weni into the street. " Mr. Policeman," I cried, to one that was jest agoin' by, by luck, " catch that beggar-boy. He's hooksd my pin." And I never saw nothing lika the way that big man strided up tbe street and pounced on that midge. He gave a screech, and then began to cry ; and all I says to the policeman was, '' Get back my pin. That's ail I care for." But that was easier said than done. The pin was not to be found. He'd t' r wed it away, most likely. And then I wav is suoh a boilin' rage that I could have killed him. «• Lock him up, sir," says I to the policeman, " and I'll appear agin him to-morrow." And then I had to go back to the kitchen • for be a cook's emotions what they may, her missus and her master won't think of goin' without their dinner— particularly her master. Well, I kept boilin' and frettin' and wiahing I could hang the boy. And never in my life did I have such a time with missns-> It was, " Cook, the meat ain't done enough;" and, " Cook, the gravy is too thick." And the under gal was gone, and I bad to wait myself. And at last when dinner was sent down to me, I oouldn'fc eat a bit of it. I put it away untouched, and jest set do7?n and cried. Next mornin' I went to oourt and told my story, and the policeman said he'd seen the boy throw something away ; and the judge he sentenced him to be locked up for I dunnc how many days ; and all the whiie the httla rascal kept ctyin', and vowin' he never saw the pin. It made it so much the woree. If he had owned up, he wouldn't have deserved half so bad. But as it was, I was glad to see him punished, and I'dafceen gladder still to Eea him hung. When I went home I felt better ; and so, finding myself hungry for the first time since I had lost my p ! n, I got out the cold puddiag and a bit of meat, and sat down alone by myself in the kitchen to eat them. " No wonder the missus found fault," said I, as I put my spoon into the pudding. '* There's lumps in it like etonee." And with that I tried to break one, and couldn't ; and feeling curious like, I put it on the table. It seamed to be a real stone. "In the sugar; likely," says I, 'and broke the puddin' nway and there in the midst I saw— my breastpin. It had dropped in while I was tnixin' it, and there it was. About an hour afterwards, ill the help down the street had it to tell that Ann Gerry — that's me — had gone mad, and ru6hed off to drown herself. I went with nuthin' on my head, a wringin' my hands and cryin' ,- but where I went was to tha prison to beg and pray that dear boy's pardon of the judge &nd ask him to look me up in the precious innocent's place. That boy I consider my boy now. Ha shall have all I've got in the savings bank, every cent. A better boy never lived, and next to his own ma— she's better now, and doin' fine washin' and flutin', as I can recommend to suit any lady— that boy lovea me. And this I always say to all I know when I hear- 'em talk of beggara and tramps: II Don't judge 'em beoauae of their poverty ; don't judge, lest, aa our minister reads out of the Bible, you may be judged yourself by them above you." Those ain't the words, but it's the spirit, and so I hope it's all the same.

"Do you eDJoy good htalth?" " Why, yc3, to be sure, who doesn't?" Young ladies who pl&y croquet are known as " maidens all for lawn." Gibls who use powder don't go ofi any quicker than those who don't. A messengeb boy's diary— Monday, hired ; Tuesday, tired ; Wednesday, fired. " Eat with jadgment," says a learned physician. Mout people, however, will continue to use their jaws. •'A hen has just laid an egg as big as a bowl." First time we ever heard of a bowiegged hen. " I sat, Jenkins, can you tell a youag chicken from an old one ?" "01 coarse I can." "Well, how?" "By the teeth." " Chickens don't have teeth." " No, bat I have." " What are yon doing, Patrick?" "Wakin] up your hueband, ma'am." " But why ?' " Baoase it's tin o'olook, ma'am, when I was to give him the dhrops to make him sblape." In days like these : " I believe I will pot on my thin underclothes, Sarah." "Don't you do it. Stick to your flannels, John." ♦'That is just the boiher of them. I have been sticking to them all day." "You all remember the words of Webster," shouted an orator. "No, I don't," interrupted a man in the gallery. "Do you expect a man to remember the whole dictionary ?" Mother : " One of you boys has been stealing raisins again : I have found the seeds on the floor. Which one of you was it?" Tommy :" It wasn't me. I swallowed the seeds in mine." " Pawn me honab, me deah boy." " Don't," interrupted his friend, "I beg of you, don't ; you couldn't raise enough on it to buy a cord for your eye-glass." And the conversation was not resumed." j Accounted Fob. — Stranger :|C What is tha matter with' this town ? E vary body looks baggard and played out. Had a plague here?" Citizen: "No. The pigo in clover puzzle strnok the place last week." Young Doctor ; <: Well, I've got a ease at *ast." Young Lawyer : " Glad to hear it. I When you get him to the point where he w&njfa a will dra & n telephone over." 609