his foot plump down in that pan of water. There was a yell and a jump, and over went the pan, and when I got up there he stood holding up one leg, as you have seen a hen do on a wet day. What I said on that occasion kept Mr. Bowser very quiet for a whole week. Then he began to grow restless again, and one night he brought home a suspicious-looking package and sneaked it upstairs. After supper he suddenly disappeared, and when I looked for him upstairs he had something in a basin and was about to hold it over a gasburner. "Mr. Bowser, have you got a new theory!" I asked. "Look here, Mrs. Bowser," he replied, as he put down the basin, "you have heard of bacteria, I presume?" "Yes, sir." "They are the germs of disease floating about. They are alive. If inhaled, cholera, yellow fever and other dread diseases are the result. Fumigation kills them." "And you are going to fumigate this room?" "I am. I am going to kill off the dreaded bacteria." "Well, you'll drive us out of the house or kill us.” I went downstairs and he burned a compound of tar and sulphur. In ten minutes we had to open doors and windows, and the cook came running in to ask : "Is it cremation Mr. Bowser is trying on us?" "I am simply driving out the bacteria," he replied, coming downstairs at that moment. "And there's bacteria in the house?" she gasped. "I'm afraid so." “And I've worked here four weeks under the noses of the dreadful creatures? Mr. Bowser I quits. I quits now!" And quit she did. We had to sleep on the sittingroom floor last night, and three weeks later every caller could still detect that odor. It was hardly gone, however, when Mr. Bowser began to sniff around again. 66 'Any more bacteria?" I asked. "Mrs. Bowser, if you want to sit here and die I have no objections, but I don't propose to neglect common sense precautions to preserve my own health." "Is anything wrong now?" "I think so. gas in the house." I think I can detect an odor of sewer "Impossible! I shall have no more stuff burned until I know it is necessary!" "Wont you? If there is sewer gas here it must be eradicated at once." For the next week the entire house smelled of chloride of lime until one could hardly draw a long breath, but Mr. Bowser was not satisfied. "I have been thinking," he said to me one evening, "that I may bring the germs of some terrible disease home in my clothes. I ride on the cars, you know, and I ought to take precautions." "How?" 66 Carry a disinfectant about me to repel the germs." "It might be a good idea." "Now you are talking sense. Now you seem to understand the peril which has menaced us.” craze. He got something down town the next day. I think some of his friends put up a job on him, knowing his It was a compound which left him alone on the street car before he had ridden three blocks, and he had no sooner got into the house than we had to retire to the back doors. The cook got a sniff of it, and down went the dinner and up went her hands, and she shouted at Mr. Bowser: 66 "A man as will keep skunks under his house would beat me out of my wages, and I'll be going this minute." It took soap and water and perfumery and half a day's time to remove the odor, and when I declared that it was the last straw, Mr. Bowser crossed his hands under his coat tails and replied: "Mrs. Bowser, I believe this house to be clear of bacteria, owing to my prudence and self-sacrifice, and I want it kept so." "I suppose I got 'em here!" I said, coldly. "Without a doubt, madam!" "And all this rumpus has been on my account?" "Exactly. But don't go too far with me! Enough is enough. You must stop right where you are. I have humored you all I propose to." DANIEL PERITON'S RIDE.*-ALBION W. TOURGEE. All day long the river flowed, Down by the winding mountain road, All day long the pitiful tide, Babbled of death on the mountain side; And all day long in the chilly gloom Of a thrifty merchant's counting-room, "An incident of the terrible flood at Johnstown, Pa., May 31, 1889, caused by the breaking of the South Fork Dam O'er the ledger bent with anxious care Old Periton's only son and heir. A commonplace, plodding, industrious youth, For the son of the merchant when out of a job. A marvelous sight young Periton saw With a roar like the angry ocean's swell! To the rock on which the foundations rest! Dan Periton's cheek grew pale with fear, And he thought of the weight of the pent-up tide, Held by that heap of stone and straw Dan Periton tightened his grip on the rein, Sat close to the saddle, glanced backward again, Touched the bay with the spur, then gave him his head, And down the steep valley they clattering sped. Then the horse showed his breeding--the close gripping knees Felt the strong shoulders working with unflagging ease As mile after mile, 'neath the high-blooded bay, Past Mineral Point there came such a roar As never had shaken those mountains before! A mile farther on and behind him he spied The wreck-laden crest of the death-dealing tide! Daniel Periton knew that his doom was nigh, The spray on his cheek was the cold kiss of death; He saw the pale rider who sat on the croup! But clear over all rang his last warning shout, "To the hills! To the hills! For the waters are out!" Then the tide reared its head and leaped vengefully down On the horse and his rider in fated Johnstown! That horse was a hero, so poets still say, That brought the good news of the treaty to Aix; Than young Daniel Periton's raw-boned bay With the tide that rushed through the dam of straw, On the fated thousands in doomed Johnstown! |