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Enknd ll Second Clan Manu- It In. New York, N. Y.. Pu Olﬁcu.
. Publith Week! I: B (110 s (1 Ad -
NOI  n.§§£n No. 93 W1”?! mysT_°;lw ygm. ml, £13.53“.  

' PETER, THE DANDY GREENHORH

BY NOAH NUFF-

 
WITH AN ANGRY T055 0" III HEAD, THE OLD COW BENT PETER FLYING HEAD-OVER‘HEELS OFF THE EICOL.

 
V

Peter Poppa grass, the Greenhorn from Gotham.

P E T E R ,
THE DANDY GREE N HORN,

AND

Ei- Com-‘zcaJ Adventures in
the Country.

BY NOAH NUFF.

CHAPTER I.

PETER PEPPERGRASS Grows TO THE COUNTRY TO
RUSTICATE AND To Asroxisn THE i!.»\TIVES-
HIS ADVEN‘l‘ AND RECEPTION IN SQUASHVILLE.
; “ SQUASHVILLE! '

.' Tum yelled Ilio Vbi'llRl‘mﬁ'l us a train on the

Bquedunkan I Panhandle R. R. halted at an‘ in‘

[and Jersny village. '

f “ Squasjlvillol 0 )me, climb of! lively l" he

rep-sited as if in a hurry to get rid of to: pas—

, ﬂange-r.
“ By Goorgol We've got here m lust," lj ICU‘

 lated a youth, with a galllllly-c'lt’cli‘ﬂl suit. ur-

dinul necktie, double—deoked collar nmi high
11 It. as he nastily erected nirxiself, grabbed his
carpet-sack and ten-cent cone and made a. dash
for the (Flf‘dOOI’.

Ha Manned the platform and the train rolled
no.1 No other pusiengers go‘ Off. I

“8) tois is Squ‘xsliville,” muwd the youth
‘with the high hat. gizinz at Ch! collecion of a
dozen buildmg< or so that m'ule up the village.
“Pratt. sleepv-l )Oklllg placa, huh I reckon
Peter eppergmss is tha chap tonstonish the
natives and wake ’em up. l’ln going to rusti-
ca‘te around here for awhile this summernnd
scoop in the country boys and make love to
the good looking girls. lW'Jll, I should twiﬁ
tori” and, with A smile of supreme Monocoit
and Satishiction, Peter Peppergmss-a-Cof that
was the important young man’s cogno'msn—f-

v, snipped OR the platform.

mispng his carpet sack tightly in one hand
and lightly tWirling bis 0100 with the otiierr
‘ Pmpenrrass nlrily stroie down the dust-pavéd
Main street of Squashville. { v 3
On a fauna near the blacksmith shop was
parched a re l-Iieadezl youth, with a. sleepy eye
and q heckled nose. In front of this rising
young citizan halted‘Peppergr-iss. W
“Sonny,” he hogan, "can you inform 
whet: I can ﬂ id ' board iii the country arod‘ﬂi
bare. " .  , - ‘ ~
“Beckou so," carelessly responded the ﬁery-
haired youth; f‘ what kind of a honrd ‘d’fe
want, hamlock, pine, basswood or hickory?"
Peter’s (are grmv red. Could it, be possible
th'lt, thr- youthful Squushvllllun had the'auilunity
and cheek t» endeavor to email Mm~tind he
from from the city? 7 , 1 '_
it seemed that it. could. \
‘Psbpergmss summon-cl up a withering; glance,
war-rmmd to kill at forty pines, on said,
wwraly; v v
“ Sonny. lam from New York!”
Then he paused to watch the eﬂect

of his

 
words. He expected to see the carrot-topped
youth fall off the fence. But the boy didn’t
Wither for a cent. He opened one eye a trim,
cﬁgally dropped the lid of the other, and

c :

“ £20m the city, hey? Glad to hear it. Thort
from yer looks yo had broke loose from the idjit
asylum.” ‘ ‘ ‘ .

Then Pep ergsss wasinnd. '

His dign ty ngﬂ receivod a lever-o fracture.
Carefully depositing his carpet: sack and cane
on the woodm sideWalk. he assumad a pugilistic
attiruria, and exclaimed:

“Sonny. if you will climb down from that
fence, I’ll polish you off in regular city style,
and learn you somn n B‘lll' rs.”

“Sonny” di'ln’t Wait for a S°cond invitation.
He climbed dmvn in a leisurely sort of way and
sauntered in Peter‘s direction.

Peppcrgrass struck out at him once—just
once. Aftnr that “it‘ was pretty hard to tell
what did happnn. But when lhe‘cloud of dust
cleared away Peter was lying on his back in
the middle of the street, with his carpet-sack,
cane and high but pilyd On top of him, while the
Sk'meoteles-hnirerl youth had clamhen‘d’ back
on Hm f me? ugnin. and was calmly dozing away
as if nothing bad hap Jnerl.

To 5 2)! that. Peter eppu‘grass was simply arr
tonished would be drawing if. very mild indeed.
He was completely paralyzed.

For some time he wasn’t sure whether he had
collid, d with an express train under A full head

of steam, or and been telescoped by the heels of ‘

a Texas mule.

But, ﬁnally, a dim, shadowy suspicion began
to dawn on his mind that perhaps the rod-
headed youth had somnthing to do with it. It
was a great surprise to him; but he didn’t cum
to investigate the mattr-r an further. The
youth was apparently asleepyf‘,’ somehow it
struck Poter that it would  aszw‘ell not

. to wake him u again. \

Nobody ha V noticed Pepp’é’rgrnss‘s sudden

idqwnfall, therefore ‘ he didn’t;  as bad over it ,
 lie-otherwise would.

 smothering his rising indignation. be sprung
to his feet, and carefully dusting of! his
gorgeous raimventami his big}: but, he picked up
worsens] proparty. and stepped of! with his
h as high so e‘Ver.  if? . ,,
Peppérgrass was not crushed bv‘ along» sight.
Ho’wasn’tg‘bhat sort. a. yang). His Se‘lf-donceit
might recriyola shoq now ml than, but it was
pretty hard to down; lmcou‘iplotély. No mat-
ter how savem thermocussion, in a few minutes

'V ’th wouldihe chirping around again in lively

in dﬁheerful nsaMinnesntn grasshopper. ‘
_ n“the strm‘went Peter, sunlight totho
cornurgrocerv,‘and sutured. '  ‘7 '
f‘Myvman.” 1m said, midrpnsln tho-proprie-
torﬂ'canynu divest , 3WD ry boarding-
h haro'ibou’nl’tw” v '

ﬂ ’fjw’opriretq wast! younz‘mnn with a rural ' '

omnidian ‘Wri lo [more For an in»

" “stunt no mad-vat. Palm“ in rim'nzament. He
hun sat-u people ~Tfronitﬁm (-ilv before. but none.

who were rigged out jn’I’utr-rk unique style.
"Come, my'mau,”coui;iimml Peppergrass in

a lowly tone, “ I can’t wait all day for the in.

formation.” ' ’

"“ w‘l‘iilﬁuwxsimw wwtv’? ‘

13““

l .1

 
mm» \.

isms}, . -

Peter Pepper-grass, the Greenhorn from Gotham. 3

 
The proprietor grinned.

“ You want a boarding-houm, eh?" he asked.

“Yes. of course; that's what I said,” re-
plied Peter, impatiently.

“ Well, I reckon old Sol Hayseed back here
in the country a mile or so is the man you Want
to see. He takes in boarders and durned fules
occasionally.”

" Where can I ﬁnd him?” asked Peter, loftin
ignoring the latter portion of the proprietor’s
remarks.

“Like to have me comeout and show you
the route?” '

u Yes.”

The proprietor was accommodating. He
came around from behind the counter, took
Peppergrass by the collar and walked him to
the door, then turning him around so that ho
was headed for the country he exclaimed:

“Tnercl now travel right along in that di-
rection and you’ll ﬁnd him.” accompanying his
advice with a terriﬁc kick under Peter's coat
tail. which jarred his hat down over his eyes
and sent him ﬂying;‘ for a rod or so in a manner
considerably more asty than digniﬁed.

Again was Peter’s indignation aroused.

“ What do you mean?" he demanded, glaring
around at the grinning owner of the corner
grocery.

“Oh, nothing much. Just giving you a lift
on your journey," was the cool reply; “and
maybe the next time you want nnyinforrnn-
tion you‘ll ask for it in a different style. Want
anything more of me?"

Peppergrnss concluded that he didn’t. He
hauled in his horns, as it were, and ambled on
in the direction which had been thus forcibly
pointed out to him. "

Squashville proper was not for Peppergmss.
What he wanted was to rusticaie. togeb out in
the verdant mends where he could listen to the
mellow bloating of the silver-throated swine
and the musical warblinlz of the Mormon hull
and his numhrous family as they playfully
g0 mboled on the greensward.

The reception that Peter had received in
Squashville WHS something different from what
he had expected, vastly different. But, he
wasn’t at all stuck up or haughty on “that ac—
count. Strange to say, he wasn’t.

Peter stepped oi! as meekly as a condemned ,

army mule going to the honeyard. until he got
outside of the village. Then his mind seemed
to grow easier, his self-conceit resumed its
sissy: and, from the gait he struck, one would
naturally imagine he was the landed proprietor
of the whole county.

Along the dus'y highway he sailed as serenely
as a clam sloop in a. summer breeze.

Presently he sizhted a. farm-house, ham and
several other buildings. It was the Hayseed
ranch.

An old chap, airily attired in one suspender.
a straw but, part of a shirt, blue_jean pants and

'a pair of cowhide boots, was In the garden,

wrestling with the weeds.
f Peppergrass approached and looked over the
once. ~

“ Does Solomon Hayseed live here?’ he in-

quited.
" Hey i” shouted the old farmer.

\

 
“No, not Hay; I said Hayseed,"explai'ned
Peter.

“Oh-ah-—yes, that’s my name! Didn’t un~
derstand ye at ﬁrst." responded the farmer,
jumping up and approaching the fence. Then
he added: “Dum it! yo mane me pull up an
onyun right along with the ,weeds, when yo
yelled at me,” and he looked at the ruined
onion as sadly as if he had lost a yearling colt.

“I beg pardon,” said Peppergrass, “ but I
wished to see you about engaging board for the
summer season.”

“ Where air ye from?” asked the farmer.

“ New York,” was Peter’s proud reply.

“I reckon ye hain’t one of these bu‘sted bank
cushy eres nor nuthiu7 of that sort, air ye?” con-
tinued Mr. Hayseed, doubtfully.

Peppergrass assured him that he was not.
Then the wily old grungcr gave him another
looking over, and after some moments’ rLﬂCC‘
Lion, said:

“ Well. yer looks air somewhat ag’in’ ye, but
lguess I’ll take ye in.”

This wasn’t very complimentary, but Peter
didn’t seem to mind that any. His aesthetic
mind was abovo noticing small things of that
sort.

The preliminaries were soon settled.

Pcppergrass was to pay six dollars a week,
eat at the table with the hired man and the rest
of the family, and range around the ranch as be
pleased.

Mr. Hayseed informed Peppergruss that there
wns a pond at the lower end of the farm where
he could go ﬁshing and bathing, and in, case he
felt like going hunting, there were plenty of
'woodchucks, squirrels, chipmunks, rats, crows,
hen-hawks and other game around the lace.

Peppergrasx. of course, was highly p eased to
hear this. Then when supper was read .and
be was duly introduced to the family an made,
the discovery that Farmer Hayseed was the
proud parent of a pretty, buxom daughter, he

airly grinned all ovxr vs ith delight.

Peter imagined that he had tumbled lntoa
soft thing. Lots of hunting. ﬁshing, bathing,
etc., and a pretty damsel to make love to!
Well. it was just “ too too,” and no mistake'
and Peter just laid himself out to make a. good -
impression on the Hayseed family—especnally
the good-looking daughter.

He was as polite as a dancing-master all
through the meal, and when the old farmer' ac-
cidentally upset- a quart bowl of gravy in Peter’s
lap, he smiled, did Peter, as if he “as aclunlly
pleased with the performance. Mr. Hayseed
tried to apologize, but Peppergmss wouldn’t
have it at all.

“Don’t mention it.” he exolaimed ;. “ it isn’t of
the slightest consequence; don’t speak of it."
and he actually looked as it not-hing could
please him more than to have the farmer hunt
up something else to spill on him. '

Peppergrnss had brought along a 'bottle of
grease eradicator, for use in emergencies of this
sort. and he knew what he was smiling about.

After supper he went up to his room. “eradi-
cated " the gravy, then brushed up and wan-
derad forth to inspect the ranch.

He menndered around for awhile, and than

I he discovered Miranda Q. Hayseed—the larmer'

i
l _

 
‘r

4 " Peter Peppergrass, the Greenhorn from Gotham.

 
lovely and lively daunhter—engnged in her
usual evening pastime of milking the cows.

Peppergrass uriiniringly gazed on her from a
distanco for n time, then he approached her,
and smiling one of his fascinating smiles, ex-
claimed, willi a tip of his hat and an extra-
polite bow: '

“ Ah, Miss Hayseed, I see that you are busy-
ing yourself with the delightful pursuits inci-
dental to rural life.”

Peter was anxious to make a good impression
on the young lady. and he thought this speech
would do very well for a beginning. When he
ﬁnished Miranda. Q. looked up with a becoming
blush. and replied:

“Really, I can’t say that I fancy the work
much, but farmers’ girls must be milk-maids as
well, you know.”

She had intimath that she was not fond of
her task. Now was Peter‘s chance to get in his
ﬁne work, and show the young lady What he
Could do, and earn her thanks besides; and he
at once proceeded to improve the opportu-
nity. ‘

“Won’t you allow me to do the—the—wliat
do you call it, milking or churning?” stammered
Pepperg’rass.

“ Milking.”

“I knew it was one or the other. Now, Miss
Hayseed, please let me milk while you look on
and rest oursclf."

» ‘ “But, would prefer to do it myself, Mr.

Peppergrass.” she blushineg replied.

“Oh, no, Miss Hayseed. Icouldn’t think of
standing by and seeing you work so hard.
Your face is red now from the exertion,” con-
tinued Peppergrass.

, 1n vein the young lady blushed and protested.
Pepper-grass politely but ﬁrmly insisted on tak—
ing her’ place, and she was ﬁnally forced to com-

y.

She. arose and stepped aside, then Peter grace-
fully seated himsel! on the three-legged stool,
balanced the pull, which was half-full of milk,
between his knees, and began his great teat-
squaezing act.

Pepper-muss was a phenomenal milk-maid.
He probably knew as much about milking as a.
’ﬂddler‘orab knew about the base-Viol.

The cow he was experimenting on was a.
peaceable old heifer of some twenty summers,
and she had browsed around the country con~

L ‘ siderahly; but Peter‘s style of tent—pulling was

'entirely new to her. The expression of pain
and surprise that ﬂitterl over that ancient
‘heifer’s countenance when Peppergrass ﬁrst be-
gan his performance, was almost human in its
deep and solicitous intensity. She glanced
around» at Peppergrass with a reproachful look,
but he kept right on. yanking away at the
milking apparatus as if he was doing the job by
contract.

The old cow s’ood it as long as she could,
then she turned around like a'ﬂash and with an
angry toss of her head sent R-ter ﬂying head

' over heels off the stool. His high but was
jammed way down over his ears, the pull had
upset as he went over, and he was soaked with
, mill: from head to foot, and when he got up he
was s sad-looking sight.

Peppergrass wasn’t, anxious to milk any

 
more cows—not particularly. Be plunged over
the fence and sneaked away to his room with«
out even apologizing for spilling the milk.

 
, CHAPTER II.

PETER GOES FISHING—IN A FROG PO‘iD—THINKS
HE WILL WALLOP A PLOWBOY.

THE Hayseed family were not blessed—or af—
ﬂicted, as the case may be—With a sight of
Peppergress again until late the next morning.

By that time his clothes were dry, and the
“eradicator” had got in its ﬁne work again,
so he looked quite presentable once more,
though his expensive checked smt did not have
thatgir of gaudy newness which it once pos-
sesse .

However, Peppergrass had come to the coun-
try to enjoy himself, and he wasn’t: going to be
cast down by triﬂes.

If he could-make a conquest with each suit of
clothes, he didn’t care how many he ruined——
as long as his tailor would trust him.

He felt sure the farmer’s daughter was going
to be an easy prey to his irresistible fascina-
tions. But he thought it would be just as well
l'O keep in the background for a day or so, and
let her forget about the cow episode.

Peppergrass-occasionally stumbled across a
wise idea—and this was one of them.

Therefore he concluded to spend the day in
fishing. 7
Former Hayseed hunted up an old ﬂshpole
and line, and clawed around in the garden and
scooped up a ten-quart pan half-full of ﬁsh-

worms.

Thus equipped Peppergrass sauntored away,
in the direction of the pond as pointed out by
the farmer. He walked for a couple of hours
and saw several ponds, but none that seemed
lo be the correct thing according to his idea of
it, and ﬁnally he thought he would inquire his
way.

There was a farmer’s boy plowing in a ﬁeld
near by, and unto him approached Pepper-
grass. '
“ Boy,” he began, “I’m from the city, and I,
am boarding over at Solomon Hayseed’s."

“Yoke? Putty tough place to board, but I
calkilate it’s good enough fur some folks,”
drawled the bov. ,

“nl amgoing ﬁshing,” continued Peter, “ an

“ Yaas?” broke in the boy; “weal ye’ve got
enough worms with yeto ketch all the ﬁsh in
the hull State.” >

“ But,‘Mr. Hayseed told me there were plenty
of ﬁsh in his pond."

“ Yeas? So there is, I reckon.”

“Well, that is what I expected, but I can't
find the pond. I was about to ask you where.
it was when vou interrupted me, sonny.”

“Yuas? Reoknn I kin ut ye on the right
track. See that little pon (him there a piece,
in front of the red school-house?”

At YCS.” ‘ .

" Rmckon that’s the pond ye’r’ lookin’ fur,” con-
cludwl the boy. and then he‘ shouted at the
her M on i went on with his plowing. .

“Prot'y sassy young one , but I managed lo
get‘tho information out 0 him. Tekesmeto

    
‘n

.g
,5
'C

.

 
get away wflh ’em," commented Pepper rass,
as he started in the direction of the pen that
had been pointed out to him, . r

He reached it and prepared to ﬁsh.

The pond was a very small one, and the water
looked rather muddy and slimy, and there were
a lot of ducks and geese running around it. But
Pepperg'rass supposed it was all right. He knew
there were plenty of ﬁsh in that pond of Hay-
seed’s, and he was bound to capture four or ﬁve
dozent of them or smash the ﬁsh-pole in the at‘
temp .

Baiting the hook carefully with acouple of
worms, he chucked it into the pond and sat down
to wait for a. bite. He waited right along pretty
steady for half an hour. Then be hauled up to
see what the trouble was.

The worms were intact.

Nothing had touched them.

Pe pergrass wondered what it meant. He
had card somewhere that spitting on the bait
was something that generally pleased the ﬁsh,
and concluded to try it.

He expectorated on the bait, cast it back in
the pond, and then sat down again.

r A ter another long wait be hauled up the
me.

Same result as before—worms holding their
own; ﬁsh non est.

Peppergrass began to lose his patience; but it

\ wouldn’t do to go back without any ﬁsh, and be

resolved to stick to it till he caught something——
'3 other words, to ﬁght it out on that ﬁsh-line if
i. took all summer.

Slowly the hours dragged their weary lengths
along, and still Peter ﬁshed—that is he 53 t on
the bank of the pond and watched the ﬁsh-line.
Don’t know as it could properly be called ﬁshing,
seeing that he caught nothing.

Finally, school was let out for recess, and
some of the boys came strolling down, to the

pond.

They looked Peppergrass over as if they
thought he was a curiosity of some sort.

They commenced to wink at each other and
giggle. Something evidently struck them as
being very funny. ‘

Peter’s dignity was offended, but they were
only a lot of school—boys, and he thought he
would pass their actions by in silent contempt,
as they deserved. Therefore he ﬁshed right
ahead and said nothing.

’ “ W’ot yer doin’, mister?” one of the boys
ﬂnall y asked.

Pcippergrass gave him a scornful glance.

” calculate I am fishing,” he replied; “ have—
n’t you got any eyes?”

“ Fishin’?" snorted the boy, derisively.

“Yes.” v .

“ Yer must he party green, mister. There
hain’t no ﬁsh in that pond, and nevenwas any 1"
and the boy and his companions all roared as if
they considered it as good as a circus in full
bloom. ‘ ‘-

Peter hauled up his ﬁsh-pole and wound the
line around it with a look of pained surprise on
his countenance.

‘ “Isn’t this Farmer Hayseed’s ﬁshing-pond?”

he asked.
Again the crowd roared.
“Not much! That's Jake Shinglewhacker’s

 
Peter Peppergrass, the Greenhorn from Gotham. 5

gnosepondl” yelled the boy who acted as spokes-
m

an.

Fooled? Well, slightly.

Peter Peppergrass taken in and done for by a
plow~bny? It Wies indeed sad.

The expression that ﬂittcd over Peter’s classic
features was a study in its if. It cannot be re»
produced in cold type, but it would make the
fortune of an artist able to depict it.

Peppergrass ﬁnally glanced around mid ask-

8 .

“Who is that boy plowing in the ﬁeld above
here?” '

“ That boy? Why, he’s old Shinglcwhacker‘s
son Bill. Did he direct yer here?"

Pepper-grass didn't say. He merely/muttered
aremark lo the effect that Jake Shinglm-lmcker’s
son Bill. would hear from him mighty suddenly,
it not sooner. Then he gathered up his pan and
his ﬁshing—tackle, and started (III as if Le meant
business.

He soon reached the ﬁeld in which the boy
was plowing.

The team and driver were nea r the fence. The
latter was apparently waiting for the (liszipe
pointed ﬁshernian’s reappearance, and there
was a broad smile on his rusﬂc countenance.

As Peppergrass paused and lookrd over the
fence, the bov’s face suddenly straightened and
he winked solemnly with his left eye and ask
ed: '

“Ketch any ﬁsh, mister?"

Peter gasped. '

He had never encountered such sublime au-
dacity in his'life before.

“Boy,” said Peter, impressively, “ you lied to
me about that pond: and now l’m going to
climb over the fence and give you a good web ‘
lo ing with this ﬁsh— ole I" ~

E.l.‘he plow-boy didn t seem to be at all fright-i
ened, nor betray the slightest inclination to run
awn y and escape from the terrible fate in store
for him.

Not to any great extent he didn’t.

He simply placed his thumb to his nose,
spread out his ﬁngers and gestured derisively in
Peter‘s direction. -

Then Peppergrass climbed over the fence with
his pole and pan of ﬁsh-worms.

Carefully setting the pan down where it
wouldn’t be in the way, he took a ﬁrm grip on
the ﬂ>h—pole and sailed into the rash youth who
had fooled him, the ﬁrrt letter of whose name
was Bill Shinglewhacker. '

Bill stood there in smiling readiness for the
onset. '_

He seemed pleased to see Pep ergrass, and
when they met be embraced him like a brother
—or a pugilist.

Just what was said and done during the next
few minutes will probably never be knewn; but
fin m the fact that shortly after Peppergrass \
climbed over the fence, he was seen to franti— I
cally clamber back again, with mud on his
back. and the ﬁsh—pole and pan of ﬁsh worms ﬂy
ing after him, it is conjectured that Jake Shin- 
glewhacker’s son Bill rather got the best of it. '

Poppergrass didn’t sto running until he was

' in sight of the Hayseed arm-house.

And he didn’t go back utter the pan or ﬁsh.
pole, either. ‘ ,

 
it,“

 
1.x
; ~.

 
6 ' Peter Peppwrgrass. the Greenhorn from Gotham.

 
He told the farmer he had lost them, and old
Hayseed merely charged them in with his board
and let it go at that.

Peter was succeeding nobly in his little job of
astonishing the natives. ,

CHAPTER lIi.

PEPPERGRASS THINKS HE WILL RUN THE HAY-
SEED RANCH FOP. A SI’ELL—ATTEMPTS IT, AND
GETS BADLY LEFT.

THE next day PrppergraLS c154: his eagle eye
over the horizon, and c mrluded that he would
go out and show Hayseed and the hired man
how to run the ranch.

Peter’s uncle‘s half~sister‘s step father used to
engineer a cabbage consel'VoLOry down on Long
Island, and Peter had once himself erused a
tract entitled, “Cucumbers As An rticle of
Diet Considered from the Undertaker’s Point of
View,” therefore he considered himself fully
competent to take the management of a. small-
sized farm.

He didn’t mean to discharge Hayseed and the
hired man~all he intended to do was to assume
the direction of aﬂlirs for a time and sort of
instruct them in their duties and boss things
around generally.

In pursuance of this plan Peter sullied forth.

He kept on sallying for some time.

Then he ran across the old frmer, who was
in the barn b sin engaged in thrashing rye
with an old-fas ioned ﬂail.

The tarmer swung the ﬂail with a lusty
stroke that fairly m‘lde the barn-ﬂbor jingle.

Peppergrass stood and watched him for
awhile with a critical air.

Then he thought it was getting about time to
interfere, and commence running things as they
should be.

He informed the farmer that there seemed to
be something wrong about his method of ﬂailing
-the,stroke somehow did. not appear to be just
rightu-he had seen pictures of men handling the
ﬂail before then he said, and he thought he
could show Mr.'Hayseod just how it should be
done. “

The farmer looked at Peppergrass in amaze-
ment for a moment; then he laughed a loul
and somewhat scornful lauo‘h, something like
the hoarse chuckle of a Durham bull chanting
its morning lay. ,

Stepping aside he handed Peppergrass the

. ﬂlil and said: ’

“Actions spank louder than words, Mr. Pep-
pergrass. I reckon you’d better tackle the thing
yerself for a few minutes.” .

Peter tackled it.

, He asped the handle of the ﬂail with un-

houn ed conﬁdence and his hands, and went in

, for rye and glory. ‘

He raised the ﬂail once about two feet from
the ﬂoor, and dropped it gently on the grain to
kind of get the hang of the affair before he be-
gun in earnest.

Then he swung it up over his head and began

 
y/thrashing for, all he was worth.

The ﬁrst blow caved in four ribs of a horse
lb“? was standing by, the Second knocked off
Peter’s hat and cracked the farmer on the elbow
so hard, that his crazy—bone sung Yankee

Doodle for ﬁve minutes alterward, and the '

 
, other.

 
third—well, the third caromerl on Peter’s nose,
and knocked him down as neatly as if he had
bleetr: slapped in the masal region by a base-ball
c u . ,
The old farmer yanked Peppergrass lo, his
feet, jammed his hat on his head, and escorted
him to the barn door with the remark that.
"’Tain’t best to fool with things yer kain't
handle.”

Peter thought so himself, and went and took
at long walk.

His proboscis, where he had been struck by
the ﬂail, swelled up until it looked likearine
cucumber, and for a time Peppergrass com-
muned with his thoughts and looked sad.

But not for long was be cast down, for catch-
ing sight of the hired man driving a. yoke of
steers in front of a two-wheeled care, be bright-
ened up at once.

Ii! there was any thing that Peppergrass knew
more about than another, it was driving an ox-
teum—that is, be imagined he did.

“ Here my man,” he shouted, “ just let me
take hold of that whip and I’ll show you how
those steers ought to be managed.”

The hired man said he “ reckoned he know his
businessg’f but Peter wouldn’t have it. He was
going to Show that hired man how to manage
an cx—leam, or know the reason why.

The hired man ﬁnally gave in.

He saw that Peppergrass would probably dis-
charge him il’ he didn’t; and he did not care to
lose his job over a triﬂe of that sort.

'So he gave in with a grin that might have
meant something, and again it might not.

The steers were only two years old, and not
very well broken, and the thoughtful driver
had a rope on the horns of the nigh animal to
guide them by. -

He handed the end of the rope and the whip
to Peter, and then the circus began. ‘

And a ﬁne new circus it was!

Peppergrass climbed up into the ox—cart,
grasped the rope tightly, then ﬂourished the
whip around and yelled:

“Whoa! hawl gee! Get up, herel" and away
dashed the steers.

They naturally supposed a lunatic asylum
had broken loose in the cart behind them and
the way they rapid-trunsited around the ay-
seerl ranch, was a caution to greased lightning.

Thev hadn’t gone more than a dozen rods be-
fore Peppergrass Was Sitting down in the bot

tom of the cart‘bowling, for at every jump of i ‘

the steers the. cart bounded up four feet in the
air, and came ,down with a jar that caused
Peter‘s spine to curl up like a wilted cabbage
leaf, and his teeth to rattle like hailstone‘s on a
tin roof. ,

He dropped the rope and the whip, and clung
to the bottom of the curt for dear life, while
his high hat gradually but surely settled down,
OVer his eyes, and his collar rose up and ob-
scured his ears.

And still that cart bonnced and jounced along
in its ,wild and erratic career. ,
First one wheel would be in the air, then the
One moment the cart would be bound-
ing over a stone, then it would plunge intoa

ditch with a concussion like a pile-driver. , '

Pepporgrass was having an extremely ills

 
Peter Peppergrass. the Greenhorn from Gotham.

 
teresting little ride; and he was enjoying him-
self ﬁrst-rate. .

Ohl yes; Peter w 5 having an intensely Cunllc
time of it; but it w noticed that he didn‘t pay
much attention to the scenery along the route.
His time was chieﬂy OCCupird in hanging onto
the cart, and howling to the steers to stop-
whenever he could scare up enough breath to
howl with which wasn't very often. ,But those
steers had got waked up, and they didn’t pay
much attention to PeppergraSs’s frantic en-
treaties.

On the contrary, the louder he yelled the
faster they went, lielter-skelter across the ﬁelds,
apparently imagining that Peter was encourag-
ing them to greater sﬂorts, and they were anx-
ious to please him.

But a circus can’t last forever, and this one
didn’t.

The steers finally stopped.

One reason why they stopped was because
there was a stone wall in the way.

The tongue of the cart struck the wall with a.
terriﬁc slum, bringing the vehicle to asudden

’ halt; Peppergrass took a ﬂying lea , head-fore-

most, over the heads of the steers nto the next
ﬁeld.

He alighted on his hands and feet. plowed up
arod or so of ground with his nose, tore the
skin off the palms of his hands, and bruised him-
self generally in a way that caused him to re—
member his exploit for some time afterward.

Then, as soon as Peter got on his feet again,
the hired man came along, as mad as a Wet hen,
and chased him out of the fluid with the ox-
whip, for letting the steers run away.

Peter made a good race of it, and as he cleared

' the fence at the other end of the ﬁeld, the hired

man yelled after him that if he ever came fool-
ing around him again he would casually break
his good~for~nothing neck.

Peppergrass didn’t seem to care very much
about the hired man’s society after that. And
he didn’t attempt to drive any more steers;
either, during his sojourn at the Hayseed Plan-
tation. ‘

 
CHAPTER 1V.

Pmnn's WATCH DOG MA’l‘INEE-HIS FIRST vzsIr
TO‘THE SQUASHVILLE POST~0FFICE~ENCOUN~
Tm WITH A BOY wno GUNNED FORFLIES.
PEPPERGBASS kep: remai kahly ’quiet — for

him—the rest of the day.

He thought, perhaps, Farmer Haysoed and
the hired man could get along for a. spell (with-
out his valuable assistance.

Besides he wanted a chance to recuperate and
brace up.

Hi energies were ﬂ=tggin .

Somehow there wasn’t such an air of res‘i’ul
quiet and somnolvnt calmness about life in the
country as he lmd supposcd: but he concluded
to lay oi! and take matters ensy the rest of the
day, at any rate, and get thoroughly refreshed
and rested.

So he at a book out of his carpet-sack—a

leasing fittle love-story, entitled “The Baron’s
d-Headed Niece: or, The Web-footed Gov~
erases of Manor Hall "—and laid himself down
under the shade of an apple-tree near the farm
house to read and enjoy the cooling breezes.

 
He read four pages by actual count.

Then he fell asleep.

That is what the book was intended for, prin»
cipally.

It was warranted to put one to sleep inside of
fifteen minutes or money refunded.

It worked like a charm in Peter’s case, did
“ The VVelrfOOhed Governess of Manor Hull."

He s1 pt right through till the supper-bell
rung, and the hired man came alongand caught
asight of him peacefully snoring away likea
steam an“ «mill in full blast.

Said individual did not think such an awful
sight of Peppergrass, as the reader is already
aware, so he thought it would be a good plan to
play a trick on him and wake him up at the
same time. , '

He waited till the family had got seated at
the su per—table, then he called the watch-dog
from t 9 wood shed and n quested him to “bring
that tramp out from under the tree,” pointing
to the sleeping Pcppcrgrnss.

The dog wagged his tail and started off as if
he understood eXacrly what was wanted of him.

Then the hired man slipped in and took his
place at the table with a face on him as long as
afence-rai], and a look on it as innocent and
devoid of guile as Bret Harte’s Chinaman.

The next instant there was a wild yell and a.
hurried clatter of feet, and Peppergrass came
plunging headlong into the dining-room, with
his eyes bulging out and the watchdog hanging
to his coat-tails like the King of Terrors to a
deceased African.

He charged Wildly acrOss the room, knocking
over four chairs and nearly upsetting the table;
and then he began a mad race around the apart- V
mant, howling for help at every jump, like a.
pigeon~loed Celestial with a gang of hoodlums
after him. ’ i ‘

It was an impressive spectacle.

Very.

Miranda Q. Hayseed was laughing as if her
young heart would break, and the rest of the
furnin joined iii—all except the hired man.

He sat there as solemn as an owl. He didn‘t
even smile.

But that night after he got to bed, it is cur-
rently re ﬂed in Squashville that the hired
man laug ed so that the whole house shook from
cellar to garret. ‘

Mr. Hayseed ﬁnally got up and called off the
watch-dog.

That wound up the matinee.

Peppergrass was highly indignant, and de-
manded to know what sort ofa way that was
to treat a gentleman, and a city boarder at
that?

The farmer said be “reckoned the dog had

‘made a mistake, but it wouldn’t make any dif-

ference anyway, as the dog wasn’t mad."

“Mad!” hoWIed Peter; “of course the d
ain’t mad! He ain’t got anything to be ma,
u' out, It‘s 'me that’s mad, and on’t you for.
get it. ' ‘

Peppergrassdiad read this joke in an old
almanac, and he thought it was a good chance
to getit‘ ofl’and paralyze the farmer.

But Hayseed wasn’t para]; zndto any great
r-x‘eut ‘ '

' Dum it! A mistake is a mistake,”he ex~ '

 
~ 8

Peter Peppergrass, the Greenhorn from. Gotham.

ﬁx ,—

 
claimed; “ and I reckon the dorg knows about
us much as some other peop‘e. The critter took
yer for a tramp, I s'pect and that’s all there is
of it. He’ll know yer the next time, I reckon,
it go keep awn ke."

hat was all the satisfaction Peppergrass got,
and even that did not seem to satisfy him ex—
actiy.

He sat down and disposed of his supper in
moody silence.

Things were not running exact} y to suit him
yet, but he :alculated there-would beachange as
soon as people realized who he was.

They didn’t know him. That was the trouble
apBarently.

at be calculated that he would have that
triﬂing matter fixed up all right in a day or

so.

In the morning he would go down to the
Squashville oat-ofﬁce, and get a bushel or two
of letters a dressed to “Peter Peppergrass,
Esq.," and when the natives noticed that, they
would begin to realize who the had to deal
with, and treat him with a little more re-
spect.

He reckoned that would fetch them around if
an thing would.

0 the next. day Peppergrass blackened his
boots, brushed his stylish clothes, arrayed him
‘ self in his high hat and ten cent cane, and after
admiring himself in the glass, carelessly sunn-
, 'tered dowu to the village. '
' Squashville was there. .
> But there were no signs of a post-ofﬁce to the
naked eye.

Pe per rass wandered about for some time,

but all to ﬁnd even a letter-box tacked to a

laﬁrpost.

nally he entered the blacksmith—shop, where
he found a. man with a leather apron on, wres-
tling with the hind hoof of a mule, endeavoring
to nail a shoe on it. V We mean on the hoot of
course, not on the mills.

The man was bending over busy with his
work, and Peter ap reached close to him in
order to make him ear, and asked if he could

va Him any information about the location of

eﬂuashville post-ofﬁce.
’J at that moment the mule’s hind leg
straightened out like a ﬂash and the black-
smith plunged headlong into Peter’s stomach,
knocking h m sprawling on his back half-way
across the shop.

“I beg yer parding. sir. Mules is mighty
onsurt’in critters, an’ ye don‘t want to git too
close to thar heels,” an d the blacksmith, apolo-
getically, and then he added: “ What was ye
nskin’ about?"

' Pep rgrass crawled feebly to his feet and re—

.

peate his uestion.
“Post-or ce? Bless ye, man! that hain't
none.”

Pelphpergrass looked astonished.
f‘ on where do you get your mail?” he
' asked.

“Next grocery store above here. Git out
now; I‘ve got to shoe this critter,” laconically
replied the man, turning to resume his discus-
sion with the mule.

Peter vanished in the direction of the grocery
a! directed. , '

\

 
He reached it and entered.

There was nobody in except a boy.

The boy was very busy.

He was gunning for ﬂies with a bean—shooter.

“Sonny, where is the postmaster?” ingirecl
Peppergrass, with a lordly air, as if the . M.
and his assistants ought to consider it a. great
favor to receive a. call from him, and rush to
wait on him at once.

“Up to the school-house," replied the boy, go-
ing "right ahead with his bean-shooting.

' hat is he doing there?”

“ Keeping school, I reckon,” and the boy
pegged away at another fly.

“ ’m from New York, and I want to get my
mail ” said Peppergrass impatiently.

“ Well, get it. Noboi y's stopped you that I
knows on," nonchalsntly replied the boy, pop-
ping over another ﬂy.

Then Peter‘s angry passions rose.

“Say, boy!” he yelled; “my name is Peter
Peppergrass, and if you’ve got any mail for me
I want you to pass it out; pretty lively, tool”

The boy waited until he had brought down
another ﬂy, than he coolly replied:

“It don’t make any difference whether your
name is Peppersass or Sasspepper. The letters
all go in the same soap-box, back there on the
counter, an’ yer kin help yerself.”

This was rather cool. Decidedly so, in fact.

But Pepper rass smothered his rising wrath
and went to be box indicated and sorted over
the letters.

He found one letter for himself—just one-—
aud he immediately recognizad the scrawling
sn erscri tion.

I: was is wash-woman’s handwriting. She.
at least, had not forgotten him. But he did not
eagerly tear open the seal. It wasn’t necessary.
He knew the contents well enough without.

Peppergrass laced the unopened missive in
his pocket; an just then the boy stopped his
gunning long enough to yell:

“Say, teller; don't be carrying 03 any letters
that don’t belong to you i" .

This was the worst yet.

It was also a triﬂe too much—so Peppergrass
tho ht, at least.

“ oy,” he said, warningly; “do you know
who I am?”

“Reckon so. Yer jest told me or name was
Peppersass,”~chirped the boy, again getting his
bean-shooter into position.

This was adding insult to injury.

Peter conclude the youth was sadly in need
of a lesson in department—and Peter also sur-

mised that he was just the chap to give it to,

him.

“ Boy. I’ve gota good mind to give you a.
caning for your impudencsi” he shouted, pranc-
ing around and shaking his ten cent cane at the
youth in a threatening manner. "

“ I reckon not,” calmly uttered the youth;
and than after poppin away at another ﬂy, he

laid his bean-shooter own, and wnlued around I

from behind the counter.

The youth had ﬁnally got his dander up
as Shakespeare expresses it.and he went for
Peppergrass in regular rough-and-tumble style.

There was a short scufﬂe, several nail-kegs
were upset, a box of codﬂsh knocked 03 the

 
1

 
l
'\
a,

  
Peter Pepper-grass. the Greensboro from Gotham.

 
counter, anda pane of glass broken; then Pep-
gzr ss went sliding t tough the door on his

c and brought up unceremoniously in the
gutter.

ﬂ'il‘hat wound up his ﬁrst visit to the post-
o co. «

He got up and set out for the Hayseed ranch
without an further ceremony, while the be
turned bac into the grocery and resumed his
occupation of gunning the ﬂies.

 
CHAPTER V.

PEPP‘EEGRASS GOES TO SINGING‘HCHOOI’r-AT-
TEHPTS TO PLAY THE ORGAN‘AND ENCOUN-
TER-S SOME OF HIS OLD FRIENDS—‘RISULT
SAD FOR PETER.

STILL, Peter was not wholly crushed. .

He went back to the farm-house and slicked
himself up. and long before night he was chirp
ing‘ around as lively as usual.

but evening the old farmer hitched up and
drove his daughter tO'singing-school, down at
the villa 9.

He inv ted Peppergrass to go along, and Pep-

rgrass accepted without a moments hesita-

ion and went along with them.

The reached the village, and Peter,was duly
intro need to several of the leading members of
the singing-school, including good old Deacon
Jobbers and Bumble.

Deacon Jobbers was the manager of the sing-
ingvschool and Deacon Bumble was his able as-
sistant.

It was a lar, old-fashioned, country sing-
ing-school, w ere the one that sings the loud-
es generally gets the ﬁrst rize: and when it hi
over the boys turn in an escort the farmers’
daughters home.

Deacon J obbers politely asked Peppergrass to
participate in the proceedings. '

This was Peter‘s chance to distinguish himself
and he acce ted at once of course.

The two eacons took Pepperg'rass in tow and
escorted him to the front.

They took him nip on the platform with them,
and introduced h m to the audience as a dis-
tinguished visitor from New York.

The platform was occ'xpied chieﬂy by a desk,
organ, four or ﬁve chairs and a piano stool of
the three~leggad variety]. '

Pep rgrass made is best bow, impoer
specie l for the occasion, then sat down in one
of thec airs and placed his high but carefully
on the ﬂoor beside him.

’ Then the formance began.

Deacon obbers hunted up a tune and carol-
ed a verse of it to show how t should be dished
up before he allowed the audience to join in.

“ New." began the deacon, glarin wildly
around over his spectacles, “ we m l begin
the exercises," and then taming to Peter he
asked: “ Are you a musician, Mr. Pepper-

runs?"
3 Peter loftin acknowledged that he was.

" Will you play the organ for us. then 1” was
the deacon's next question. to which Peter re-
plied that he would he only too happy.

" Our distinguished visitor from the me
lis, Peter Peppergrass. Esquire. will now claw
the organ for us,” said Deacon Jobbars, turning

 
to the audience, " while we all join in that
sterling old song, beginning:
“ ‘ The boy stood on the burning deck,
Eating peanuts by the peck. ”

The deacon sat down and blew his nose on
his red bandanna, amid a storm of applause.
Then Peppergrass escorted himself to the organI
which was at the front of the platform, facing
the audience.

There was quite a number of young ladies
present, and Peter thought he saw a. chance for
making several brand-new conquests. He had
been rather shy of the farmer’s daughter since
he made a and failure of the milking business;
but now he had an opportunity to strike out in
a new ﬁeld.

He couldn’t sibly fail to captivate at least
half a dozen b coming maidens out of the num-.
her present.

Thus reasoned Peppergrass. ‘

And he braced up for \ the great undertaking
before him.

He smiled like a homesick baboon up a pine-
apple-tree, and began to wave his arms around
"Ed spread his ﬁngers out for the grand send-
0 ,

Deacon Jobbers vs the word, the audience ‘
began singing, an I’e pergress began wildly
clawing over the keys, ut no sound came from
the organ.

Nary a sound.

Not even a solitary squeak.

The audience sun one verse.

Then they stopped and looked at Peppergrase
in atonishment.

“ What is the trouble, Mr. Peppergrass?’ in-
quired Deacon Jobbers, with a look of mild
amazement on his benign countenance.

“There don’t ap r to be hny wind in the
organ," explained eter, with a very red face.

Peter was ri ht. There wasn’t an wind in
the organ—an there was one yout present
who knew the reason why; '

He was a red-headed y with a sleepy eye.
and he had met Peppergrass before. In fact he
was none other than the youth whom Peter had
waked u to his sorrow when he ﬁrst reached

whvi le.

con Bumble had delegated the ﬂer‘y’haired
youth aforesaid to pump the wind Into the
or , and the ho had solemnly winked his
is t eye and starts into the anteroomito per-
form the job, with the result noted.

“Deacon Bumble,'will you wake up that boy
and make him tend to his business?” roared
Deacon Jobbers, turniug to his assistant, as the
silence began to grow 0 pressive.

Bumble said he woul try it, and arising van-
ished into the anteroom. When he got there
the ho was pumping away as if his life do-
pended on it, and airly making things hum.

Deacon Bumble returned and announced that
everything was now all right.

Sti) the head deacon gave the word to go ahead,
aga n.

The singers chirped for all they were worth,
and Pepperg rass began to claw. ,

The organ worked all right for about three
minutes or thereaboute.

Then the wind suddenly dropped out of it
againI and the music ceased. “

   
/ one tune through. and

  
I

v

10 Peter Peppergrass, the Greenhorn from Gotham

Peppergras; stopped clawing and looked
around with a pained expression on his face.
Could it be piesible that some one was playing
a trick on him? He hated to believe it, but the
circumstances looked mighty suspicious.

The audience begun (:0 realize the joke and
they stopped singing and began to roar and
scream with laughter.

Peter shrunk down and tried to hide his
blushes behind his seven story collar, while the
chief deacon pounded on the desk with his bass.
wood tuninglork, and endeavored to bring the
meeting to order. ’ -

After the tumult had somewhat subsided,
Deacon Johbers again requested his assistant to
step into'the auteroom and see What the trouble
with the pumpist was, and Deacon Bumble
meekly complied.

“ Boy‘s gone," he laconically announced, as he
returned a moment later.

“Tnen you’ll have to take his place, and be
sure to pump it up lively, brother Bumble.”said
Jobbers.

Deacon Bumble departed on his mission.

A moment; late-r there ﬂoated out from the
ﬁntyfroom a startling smes of groans, puffs and
s s.

umhle was rather ﬂashy and short-winded,
and the exercise was too much for him.

He was “pumping it up lively," as requested.
and putting away like a steam-jackass under full
pressure. ‘ . _

,Peppergrass struck up a tuno.,but the den-
con's unique accompaniment from the ante-
room rather marred the effect or his efforts.

Half of the audience sung and the other half
laughed, and in that way the tune was brought
to a close. ~

But Peter had ﬁnalllyli succeeded in playing

‘ e naturally felt puffed
up and proud.

Boisterous applause followed its conclusion
and Peppergrass got up to how his thanks to
the audience.

. He made several low bows, and ﬂourished his
hands around like a. frightened hen trying to
ﬂyover a picket-fence, and was about to my
lomethin when u been struck him squ-ii‘e on

r the and o the nose (it seems that the boy with
, the bean shooter was also present) and he step-

 
ped buck abruptly, fell backward over n. chair,
and snt‘dovvu unexpectedly on the ﬂoor with a

concussion that shook the whole building.

Then the audience roared in earnest.

The females stuffed their hendkerchiefs in
their months, while the young men got up and
hunched and (yelled for Peppergrass.

They wants him to come forward and make

. a. speech.

But Pepperzress was non est. That is, he
Wasn’t mm. est just them-but he was about two
seconds later.

He quickly scrambled to .a perpendicular,

I ' hastily seized his Stovepipe hat. and the nextin-

stunt he had g'ullopel down the aisle and out of
the door, and» struck a lice-line for the Hayseed
ranch.

' Peter didn’t “wit l. > rile with the farmer and

’ his daughter. He didn‘t care for any society

just then.

 
singingschool as expeditiously as possible. And
he dil itl He took a short cut across lots and
in less than half an hour he was in the seclusion
of his room at the Hayseed mansion, brushing
the dust of]! his high but and communing with
his thoughts, which were not of the pleasantest
description as can readily be imagined.

CHAPTER Vi.

PETER mass A “ FAST HORSE "—TRIES A
BRUSH ON THE ROAD—HORSE FALLS ASLEEP:
THEN PETER INTERVIEWS THE HORSE‘S OWNER
AND A BOY.

PETER‘S next exploit was something entirely
different.

He chartered a fast horse and went out on
the roed'to show off. That is, the mun he
Lire-l‘it of told Peppergrass it was a. fast horse
and he took his word for it.

The man kept a small hotel in Squashvilh,
nnl Peppergrass knew he wouldn’t deceive him
~95 )ecially about a thing of that kind. Hotel-
keepers never do.

Well, Peppergrass ﬁnally got out on the
lO‘ld with his alleged trutter, and started in to
enioy himself. -

‘or a time he 'ogged leisurely along, with his

plug hat cocked ack on his head at an angle of
forty ﬁve degrees, and n. self-satisﬁed smile on
his countenance.
Peter looked like a pretty ragid citizen, just
then. He felt that the eyes of t e whole neigh-
borhood must he ﬁred upon him in admiration,
and he mentally calculated the country people
around there would begin to have a little more
respect for him when they saw him thus equip~
pod, and realized that he was no ordinary citi-
zan.

He also reckoned that he could astonish the
ﬁrst man that came along, with a, burst of speed
that nobody except a, New Yorker could get out
of a. trotting horse.

Peter attempted it.

The ﬁrst man that came along was an old
granner, with a spun of scurvy-lookinggrny
nous hitched to a. Democrat wagon. .

Peppergrass waited until he got alongside,
thnn he touched up his fast trotter.

For a second Peter shot ahead.

Then the old grnnzer yelled:

“ Git up, J ake and Bill 1” and the next minute
the greys dashed past Pepperzrass and his fast
rig like u whirlwind'out for recess, and vanished
in a cloud of dust.

Peppergrass gazed after them in amazement.
He was somewhat surprised. ‘

The hired trotter wasn’t panning out accord-
ing to his expectations, exactly. v

“By Jinks!" he exclaimed: “that country—
man must have a mighty fast team.”

But Peter hadn’t 10st faith in his fast stepper:

yet, and he jogged quiet-iv along for hall‘s. mile
more. on the lonkout for adventure. t

Then he came up behind a tow—headed young—
srer, who was driving .3 hon'y‘looking skeleton
of 'l horse in front of a buckhonrd wagon.

This was Peter’s chance. ‘

“ Now,” he mused, “ I’ll make that boy's ryos
slick out in about three su-condsﬁthen with :1

 
He merely wanted to getaway from that

ﬂourish of his whip he ran :1 u 6.10:: side of
the buck—board. ’ ‘88  P ‘  ‘

J
M

    
Peter Poppergrass, the. Greenhorn from .Gotham.

r

 
“Come on, sonny!" be yelled, as with a crack
of the lash he sailed past—and sonny did come
on! At least sonny didn’t; but his horse did.

What sonny did was to rise up, lean over the
dash-board, and emit a yell like a Chocta W, at
the same time hitting his ﬁery, untamed steed a
resounding slat) with the end of the reins.

That was al. But that traveling hone-yard
immediately got up and dusted past Pepper-
grass’s fast trotter like a train of cars on a
down grade.

Again was Peppergrass astonished.

The boy reined in after he was a safe distance
ahead, and yelled:

“ Come on, sonny! BPckon ‘Old Lightning ’
is good for another brush l" V

But Peter d'dn‘t accept the invitation. He
wasn’t anxious for another brush just then.

The conﬁdence he had reposed in his chartered
trotter was forever gone.

He merely requested the tow-beaded youth to

o to a summer resort that we wouldn’t mention
in full by its right name for ﬁfteen cents. cash
in advance, and then he got his fast rig turned
around and started back to Squashville.

Pippergrass didn’t race with anybody‘on the
wav back.

He had all he could do to keep the horse from
laying down and going to sleep in the middle of
the road.

After four hours of hard labor he ﬁnally got
the valuable trotter back within sight of
S uashville.

y the time Peppergrass reached the hotel,
he had worked himself up to a. fearful pitch of
indignation.

That hotel-keeper would be lucky to escape
with his life.

Peppergrass halted the funeral procession in
front of the hotel, and dismounted.

The proprietor came out with a beaming
smile.

Then Peppergrass turned himself loose.

" What do you mean bv hiring me this horse
for a trotter, you ‘ecoundreli’l he roared, indig-
nantly.

“ Softly, softly, my son; don’t say anything

that I shall have to thrash you for," warned the

proprietor. “ N ow, I claim I never said a word

ahgi’i’t trotting, and you can’t prove that l
l .

Po germ-ass cooled down at once.

“ on’i'. kn0w as you used the word trotting,
but anyhow you said it was a fast horse,” he
replie v t, r

‘ You haven’t got the story straight at,”
went on the hotel-keeper, with a grin. ‘ The
animal was tied up to the hiiching-post in front
of my place. and on came along and asked me
if it was fast, on I said, ‘ Yes, of course;’ and
so it was—fast toiliepost.”

Peter saw the hotel-kee 1' had the best of it;
still he wasn’t inclined to at the matter drop.

“I’ve got a mind to sue you for the five dol—
lars I paid you. That‘ l-orse can’t go ten rods
oi! a. walk,‘ howled Peppergrass, beginning to

I r get his mad up again as he thought of the way

the country nags had passed him.

“ Great Casual-ll} groaned the hotel-keeper.
3‘ You don't mean to say you’ve been drivin
the horse of: a walk, do you? Do you know,

 
..__ ._,_-

wouldn’t have that horse trot'or run or get ex-
cited over anything for ﬁfty dollarsl"

That settled Peppergruss.

He lit out without waiting to discuss the
matter any further.

He wasn’t sure, if he waited much longer, but
what the hotel-keeper would commence pro-
ceedings against him for the value of the
horse. ‘

Therefore Peter set out for the Hayseed sum-
mer resort with all possible dispatch.

Peter wasn’t feeling very good over the
” fast ” horse “ sell.” '

It was a pretty bad sell to be worked off on a
citv youth,,and that is what made Peter mad.

To think he should get fooled like that! Well,
be resolved to get square with somebody.

And pretty soon he had a chance.

As he was walking along toward his board-
ing—place, he happened to meet the tow-headed
youth and “ Old Lightning " on their return
trip.

, The boy wdsn’t more than half as big as he
was, so Peter thought it would be a good plan
to chastise him and teach him how to behave
toward his superiors.

“ Hold on, bub. I’d like to speak to you,"
said Peter as the buck~board came up alongside.

The boy reined in his ancient but lively nag,
and told Pappergrass "if he wanted anything
of him to yawp it right out, as be was lu a hurry
to get home.”

" Bub," proclaimed Peppergrass, “ you the
same as insulted me awhile ago when I tried to

pass your old go-cart, and now I’m going to haul .

you off your perch and wipe up the ground with
youl' I'm from the city, and—” '

That was as far as Peppergrass got in his
little speech. Just at that juncture the tow-
headed' youth rose up like a" ﬂash, knocked
Peter‘s high but across the road with one hand,
and gave him a belt under the eye uith the
other that sent himsprawling in the dust. Then
the boy emitted another Indian yell, and Old
Lightning started down the road on u gallop.

By the time Peter had got up and found his
hat and cane, Old Lightning and the buck board
and the tow-beaded youth were out of sight
around a. bend in the highway. But Peterdidn’t
follow them up. His principal anxiety just
then seemed to be to cover ground in the ether
direction. And he did it.

CHAPTER VII.

PETER answers A FEW—THEN 1m GOES 01310
RING—MEETS THE HIRED MAN AND SOME
WILD TUBKEYS. '

Perrsncnass went back to the Hayseed ba-
cienda and sat down on the front piazza to rest
and reﬂect. V - ‘

Country life was a far more exciting affair
than he had expected, and Peppergrass was not
enjo ing his vacation as much as he thought he
won d. This was sad; but we don’t know as he
had any one to blame for it except himself.

However, Peter never stopped to think of
this. All his misha
the perv rseness an unaccountable comhaliw-
ness 0t t a people whom he had encountered.

 
The didn’t seem to understand his was s emso

hot ought maybe it would  a.  ‘ so to

 
thus far he attributed l to

  
.5 

  
‘him tell it.

.r grass wou d have bagged her, sure.

‘ such a bad fello

12 , Peter Peppergrass, the Greenhorn from Gotham.

 
keep out of their society for a day or so and de-
vote his time to the sports that abounded in the
neighborhood.

That afternoon, in pursuance of this plan,
he borrowed farmer Hayseed’s old—fashioned,
muzzlevloading shotgun and sallied forth in
pursuit of game.

The farmer had informed him that he would
ﬁnd plenty of game of all kinds “ up around the
p'int of the woods,” so Peppergruss “p’iuted”
in that direction.

Nimrod of old was a mighty hunter, so his-
tory tells us, and Peppergrass was another—let
He allowed there wasn’t anything
with legs or wings that could get away from
him when he was located behind a double-bar-
relei shot-gun ready for business.

Possibly there wasn’t; but if so, the game in
question must have been old and blind, and
more or less crippled to start with. For, to say
the least, Peter’s style of handling the borrowed
shot-gun. with which he was equipped, was not
very sportsmandike.

He got his legs tangled up with the barrefof

‘ the shot—gun and fell down half a dozen times

before he reached the “p‘int of woods” for
which he was making; and once or twice when
he tripped himself up with the gun it went oﬂ?
unexpected! , and it began to look as though
Peter woul be called upon to attend his own
funeral pretty soon, if he wasn’t careful.
However, 9 ﬁnally r-‘ached the hunting-

' grounds without any fatal accidents resulting

{Irons his carelessness, and then he proceeded to
un .

It would have made a. cow laugh right out
loud to witness such hunting as took place in
that “ p’int of woods” that summer afternoon—
that is, if the cow wasn’t afraid of being shot
by mistake for a chipmunk. On the whole, I

ens it probably wouldn’t have been any laugh-

' ing matter for the cow it she had happened to

stray alon in that direction just then. Pepper-
A cow
would have been just about the size of game
he could hit, and he would want to stand up
pretty close to her at that. "'-
Untortunately for Peppergrass. but luckily

' for the cow, no bovine happened along, and he

blazed away among the trees the most of the
afternoon without securing any game.
He was about to give it up in‘ disgust, when

ng. Hayseed’s hired man, who had been at-

tracted by the ﬁring, came along and asked

' Peter what success he was having.

Peppergrass and the hired man were not on
very good terms yet, so he evasively replied
that be guessed it didn’t make any difference to
anybody excepthimseli'; he was only hunting
for fun, an way.

But the ired man was not to be put 011’ in

i . that way. He told Peter he hated to see him go

back to the house without anything in his bag
when the woods and ﬁelds were running over
with game, and he offered to show Peter where
there was any quantity of easily—bagged game
if he would only come with him. '
Peter began think the hired man wasn't
after all. and be thanked him

r tout-ibis kind odor and gladly accepted the invi-
0“, I ' . I ,

 
‘ l

 
They set out together and the hired man con- /

ducted him through the woods for some distance.
They ﬁnally came to the edge of a. clearing of
about an acre or so in extent. and then the hired
man exultantly informed Peppsrgrass that he
had sighted game at last, and he pointed trium-
phantly to a ﬂock of turkeys strutting around
the cleared ground.

“ What are they?" whispered, Peppergrass,
excitedly.

“ Wild turkeys,” was the reply.

“You don’t say! Look about the same as
tame ones, don’t they?” . /

“Yes; only bigger and plumper. A coup]
of them would make a ﬁne present for Mr. Ha —
seed to repay him for lending you his gun. Ta 9
it cool and aim low when you shoot. I’ll get
back out of sight so as not to scare the birds,”
and the wily hired man stepped back cautiously
behind some bushes and tip‘toed along until he
got out of hearing, then he suddenly broke into
a run and made the best time on record—that is
for a hired man—«in the direction of farmer
Heyseed’s.

Peppergrass, intent on securing some of those
“ wild turkeys,” did not notice his disappear—
ance.

The on was already loaded, but in his excite-
ment epper rass hastily rammed another
heavy charge n each barrel, then drew it up to
his shoulder, rapidly squinted over it ‘in the
direction of the “game” and blazed away with
both barrels at once. - .

The execution was something terriﬁc—at both
ends of the un.

Four of t ose turkeys hid right down ‘and
chirped their deathosong at the report of that
weapon, and at the same time the charge caused
the gun to recoil with the force of an able-bodied
pile-driver, nearly dislocating Peter’s shoulder
and knocking him backward among the bushes
where he lay hugging that shooting-iron and
feebly gasping for breath.

When he came to, he found a. man standing
over him with a club. It was the owner of those

turkeys, and he told Peppergrass he could take '_

his choice; hand over a dollar each for the
turkeyslhe had killed, 20 to jail, or haVe his
head clubbed oﬁ’, he didn’t care which.

The fallen sportsman got up and promptly
handed over the assessed damages to the excited
granger, and then he sneaked away With the
empty gun Under his, arm looking about as

cheaE and crestfallen as it was possible fora;

yout 0t Peter’s dignity to look. ,
Again had Peppergrass b’een scooped in and
done for.

 
CHAPTER VIII. ,
PETER GOES OFF IN SEARCH ORA QUIET NOOK—

GETS CHASE!) BY A MALE COW, HAS HIS NOSE I

PULLED, era, ETC. -FAILS TO FIND THE HOOK.
THE next day Peppergrass felt like going oil?

in‘o some quiet nook and commuuing with him-

self.
He did not care for any company.
So he struck out across the ﬁelds fora walk.
He walked across halt a. dozen lots, and was
just climbing over a fence, when a rough voice
hailed him:

 
! C‘Eﬂﬂr‘ut‘ﬁ .

 V

  
« v *rME‘vafrbiz our»

 
Peter Peppergrass, the Greenhorn from Gotham. I i 13

 
“ Hey, misterl Better not get ovsr in that
ﬁeld.”

Peppergrass glanced around, and found the
person who had addressed him was a young
man at work in a field of grain. -

Peter was not very w ll leased with the tone
be had used, so he looks rcbukingly at the
yiur man, and sarcastically asked him it he
owne the ﬁeld in question.

The young man said he didn’t; but there was
a bull in the ﬁeld that Wasn’t very fond of
strangers, and he thought perhaps it would be
safer for him to go around.

Pep rgras< was instantly relieved.

“Chi is that all? Well, don’t worry your-
self, young man; I calculate I've seen plenty of
cattle before now," said Peppergrass, with a
lofty wave of his hand, as he proceeded to climb
over the fence and continue his journey across
the ﬁeld. _

Peter had read somewhere that no animal
would attack a man when looked steadily in
the e e, and in case he had any trouble, he
mean totry it.

He reckoned there wasn’t any animal that
could out-squint him.

There were three or four cows and ashort-
horn Taurus (Taurus is the gentleman co“)
Eeeding on the grass in' the middle of the

aid.

But Peter paid no attention to them.

He knew the young man over in the next
ﬁeld was watching him, and he put on a regu-
lurrFifth avenue gait, with his head up in the
air like a wild turkey, and his ten-cent cane
swinging about his legs.

Thus airin strode Peter along until he was
about two-thirds of the way across the ﬁeld.

Then the short-horn caught n sight of Peter’s
gorgeously checked suit, and he began to paw
up the earth and bellow.

The animal was apparently as mad as if some-
body had shaken a red rag at him, or had fooled

I him on a bran mesh made of sawdust.

And after bellowing and pewing around for
awhile, he started in pursuit of the gaudin
attired youth.

Peppergrass heard the bull coming, and then
he thought it was about time to dust oﬂf his
gazing-inio—the-animal’s eye theory, and get it
in working order.

He proceeded to do so.

He turned around and struck an Ajax-defying-
the-lightning attitude, and glared sternly at the

, apgroachin animal.

ut some ow the glare business didn’t seem

to work very well in that case.

The hull never weakened or faltered for an
instant. Y

He lowered his head ready for business, and
came on at a rattling pace.
. Peppergrass began to grow pale.

Bis knees began to shake.

The next instant he had turned and was ﬂy-

; iug like a. madman for the fence.

And the way that bull came boundin along
after him, bellowing and shaking its hen was a
caution—particularly to Peppergrass.

That hull was a four-legged terror in run-
ning, but Pepper-grass had ﬂVe or 51:: rods the
“art and he got to the fence ﬁrst.

     
He went over it with a ﬂying leap. and there-
by saved his bacon.

But he was not very well pleased at the result
of his rashness all the sums.

He had come out of the field nearly at the
same point he entered, and as he charged over
the fence in frantic haste, the young man.
who was still standing there, began to roar—-
actually laughed at him!

Then Peppergrass was mad.

“ What are you laughing at?" he demanded.

“Laughing at you, of course; and it. was
enough to make a horse laugh to see the way
your coat-tail stuck out behind you when you
came for the fence! Ha tin-ha!” and the young
man went oil? in another puroxysm of laughter.

“Say, young man, I don’t like your style of
laughing at people,” said Peppergrass, sternly.

“ o; I suppose not. Then don’t make a fool
of yourself the next time. Ha-ha-ha!" and
again the young man smiled in his free-and-

easy way.

‘ lnsulted again. by J ingot” exclaimed Peter,
grasping his cane tighter and starting in the di-
rection of the young man. '

The young man casually remarked that it
was his busy day, but he didn’t mind taking a
few moments recreation seeing that Pepper-
grass insisted on it.

Then he laid down his run}. a nhd taking Peter
by the nose he backed " 1» npagninst the fence,
and twisted his spine. o-tumn up in the shape oi
the letter Z, and thee-fully belted him a couple
of times in the ear; and then he let up on him
and re nested him to travel or he would break
his bac for him in short order.

Peter traveled.

Somehow the climate right around there did
wt seem to agree with his delicate constitution,
and he thought perhaps a chaige of scenery
would do him good. ,

So he left—mighty expeditiously, too. ‘

Peter wasn’t over four hours getting into the
next ﬁeld, and this time he was careful to select
a ﬁeld which didn’t contain any;dnngerous young
men or animals. /

He walked along pretty rapidly for sometime. ‘

Then he came to a pond~a nice (‘lear pond
with willows on the bunk, and a. small skiﬁ'
anchored on its surface. 

This, Peppergrass thought must he farmer
Hayseed’s pond which he had told him about.

9 was rather warm from the violent exer-
cise he had recently undergone, so he thought ’
he would go in swimming and cool oﬂ', before
he; returned tohis room in the Hayseed domi—
(.‘l e.

 
CHAPTER IX.

PEPPERGRASS GOES IN BATHING—Gm‘s INTO AN
AWFUL . DiLEMMA—MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEAR—
ANCE OF HIS CLOTHES—HE PROMENAD‘ES TO
HIS BOARDING HOUSE IN A BORROWED HORSE I
BLANKET. '
PEPPERGRASS dlSl'Obed and plunged into the

inviting pond. He had learned to swim in his

early boyhood, and he hadn’t forgot how yet.
There was no one in sighr, the water was just

right, and Peppergrass thought he would sport

around in the pond for an hour or so and enjoy

himself and keep cool at the same time. i

.M‘“

 
\

 
14

Peter Peppergrass, the Gre nhorn from Gotham.

 
He paddled around for a few minutes, then
he swam clear across the pond, waded ashore
and walked up in the bushes a ways to exercise
and stretch his limbs before he made the return
trip to the other side of the pond where he had
left his clothes.

This was a sad move for Pepperg'rass. He had
scarcely got out of sight in the bushes be-
foreaparty of young ladies came innocently
strolling along and seated themselves on a.
fallen tree at the edge of the water right in
front of Peppergrass’s place of concenlmen t.

When he discovered them be nearly fainted.
It was an awful situation fora young man to
be placed in—especially a. young man of Peter’s
inimitable dignity and importance.

To get into the pond and swim across now
was out of the question and it was impossible
to walk around the pond and secure his clothes
without being discovered by that bevy of youth-
ful females.

No; Peppergrass was in for it.

The only thing to be done was to remain in
hiding and wait for those young ladies to go
away. But would 'they euer’go? This was the

\’ ell-important question that Peppergrass asked
himself for the ﬁftieth time that warm after-

noon, as he squatted behind a clump of bushes
and suffered un old tortures from the blazing
sun on his bac , and the maddening stings of
gmiﬂies, mosquitoes and other insects; and
scillthose young ladies set there and chatted
and laughed, while Peppergrass fumed, and
writhed, and perspired, and even wished he

‘ were dead—~or those heartless females would go

away, he wasn’t very particular which.

E ijoying himSelf? Oh, yes! Peppergrass
was having an intensely comic time of it! If
he had been loaded down with chains and ﬂung
into the deepest dungeon beneath the castle
walls, wherever that is, he couldn’t have felt
much’ better. In fact he would have felt about
the same. Tnere wasn’t much of a choice between

' thetwo situations; only if he were in the duo-

geon he might have stood some show of getting
out sooner than from his present position.

. Two mortal hours passed, and still those girls
unconsciously chatted on, while poor Pepper-
grass crouched there in the same position cov-
ered with perspirntion and gadﬂies. It began
to look as if Eternity might possibly roll around
in that direction before these young ladies
withdrew, and gave Peppergrass a chance to
dash out from his ambush and secure his dry-

nods.

But it didn’t. ‘

Those females were along time getting start-
ed, but they didn’t wait quite as long as that to

o

8 - .

.They ﬁnally rose up and drifted away to
their homes about an hour before sunset‘r-nnd
when the last hit of calico had disappeared be-

'hind the distant trees. Peter was so relieved

that he got up and yelled, and hurrahed, and

‘ tried to turn a handspring. but only succeeded

in jamming his head in the sand and nearly
breaking his neck in the operation.

Then he um; up again and plunged in the pond
to scare the mosquitoes and other insects of!
from his back where they had been holding a
picnic for the last three hours or more. ,

 
There was a grateful coolness to the water
after the broiling he hndundergone in the sun
that afternoon while waiting for those giddy,
thoughtless females to disperse, and Peter was
tempted to linger for some time longer in the
pond and get thoroughly cooled off.

But the setlin sun presently warned him
that it was getting about time to assume his
drapery and make tracks in the direction of his
boarding-house.

So he waded ashore and set out for the spot,
where he had left his checked suit and'other
dry goods. He reached it. and—horrible dis—
covery—there were no clothes tliervl

Oh, fateful dayl Peppergrass was having a
hard time of it.

Be staggered weakly back against a, tree and
struggled with his overpowering emotions for a
moment. I

It was tough, mighty tough. That was the
only suit of clothes Peter had with :him, and
besides he couldn‘t get another until that was
paid for.

A look of intense sadness and disgust slowly
settled down on Peter’s countenance, and bitter
reﬂections crowded his mind. Could it be that
those youn ladies had discovered his clothes
and walks of! with them? No; they had gone
in another direction, and he had watched them
out of sight. It could not therefore have been
the young ladies who had sequestered his
raiment.

It must have been some snooping scoundrel of
the masculine persuasion who had committed
the dastardly deed, and as Peppergrass rumin»
nted on the circumstance he vowed an awful
vow that. if he on] knew the name of the vil-
lain in question an could borrow a linen duster
and aclub he would start in pursuit and chase
the cowardly ﬂend to the utterth ends of the
earth but what he would catch him and make
him disgorge that suit of clothes. ,

Peppergrass was getting excited. But it dii
not seem to do him much good. In the ﬁrst
placi there was no club handy that he could

get hold of. and in the second place and lastly ,

there was no chance to borrow anything to
wear right around in that immediate vicinity.
Peppergrass was in a bad ﬁx.
This was worse than being, cornered up by
thehg'irls. So Peppergrass thought—and lie-was
r

6 could not very well return to his bonrd-
ing-house at the Hayseed ranch clothed in
nothing but sunburn and mosquito-bites. Such
a course would he apt to excite comment in
case he should meet anybody, and Peter decided
not to try it.

The only thing to do was to wait till after
dark, then sneak up to some barn, secure a.
horse-blanket and dash home before he was
noticed. x

In pursuance of this plan. as soon as it be-
came dark enough, he stole out from the shelter
of the bushes that fringed the pond and ap-
proached a barn in the neighborhood. .

Entering the building he hunted around until
he found a horseblanket. Folding it gracefully
around» his manly form, he was about to steal
quietly away, when the owner of the premises
unexpectedly put in an appearance, and tore

 
\

 
Peter Peppergrass, the Greenhorn from Gotham.

 
moment that barn was full of exoitement and
commotion and dust, at the expiration of which
time Peppergrass came ﬂying out of the door
again, minus that horse-blanket, and dashed
wildly away across the ﬁelds in the darkness
follgwed by an excited farmer with a pitch-
for . ‘

The farmer lost sight of Peppergrass before
he had gone a dozen rods, and gave up the
chase in disgust, and returned to the house and
told his folks that he had just discovered a wild
man of the woods or a What is-it, he wasn’t
certain which, out in the barn, and that after a
fearful struggle with the stray conundrum, he
had chased it a full mile across the country
with a itchfork, but the critter, whatever it
was, had ﬁnally succeeded in getting away
from him and disappeared in the darkness.

The granger’s family listened to his tale in
wondering awe, and t ey double-locked every
door in the house before they retired that night
for fear the terrible “ wild man ” might return
and carry them all of! in their slumbers.

In the mean time where was the unfortunate
Pe pergrassf ,

fter he escaped from )he agitated granger
and his pitchfork, he was a triﬂe more careful
and he approached the next barn that‘rame in
his way somewhat more cautiously. While he
was reconnoitering around behind the barnyard
fence he saw a man enter the building. It was
a farmer ﬁnishing up his chores for the night;
To him Peppergrass gave the grand hailing sign
of distress, and after attracting his attention
related his sad tale of woe.

He proved a good Samaritan in disguise, and
he cheerfully loaned Peppergrass a pair of cow-
hide boots and an old horse-blanket, and sent
him on his way rejoicing.

That is ' ﬁguratively aﬁeaking. In reality
Peter didn’t rejoice enoug to reader that fact
visible to the naked eye. The fact was that
Peter was not feeling desperater cheerful just
atthat moment.

His feet were sore, his limbs-were still’ and
his back felt as if it had been scorched by a
prairie ﬁre. In short he was banged up. crip-
pled, cold, tired, hungry and disgusted—and he
wasn’t feeling very well besides.

Slewly and sadly he made his way, under the
friendly shades of night and that horse-blanket.
to the Hayseed mansion. Then watching his
op ortunit , after they had all retired, he crept
so tly to b room, divesting himself of the ac-
commodatin farmer’s boots and horse-blanket,
then plunge into bed and lay awake the rest
of the night wonderin where he was going to
get another suit of clot 'as, and how it was pos—
sible. for a square yard or so of sunburn and a
few in . uito—bites and other insectvstings to
make aofeilow’s back feel so confounded uncom-
fortable. ,

It was a long, weary night for Peppergrass.

CHAPTER X. '
rarrsaoaass arcovnas ms nar- GOODS——
GOES TO A NECKTIE SOCIABLE—HIS nasa—
FUL mama.
You can wager your ﬁnal nickel that Peter
was rejoiced to see daylight dawn at last the
next morning.

 
Anything was better thnn lying awake in
bed, wrestling with unpleasant thoughts and
wishing that some one else had his back.

Daylight and the old farmer dawned at about
the same time. That was a we they had. Mr.
Hayseed always got up with t a sun and after
milking the cows usually took a short recess
out in the back yard splitting up the family
ﬁrewood.

When Peppergrass heard him at his morning
exercise, he cautioust stuck his head out of the
window and requested Mr. Hayseed to please
ha nd up some clothes on the end of a pole so he
could rig himself up and come down and get
something to eat.

The farmer looked up in surprise.

“ Ohi ye’re there, air ye?” he asked.

“ Yes, of course," replied Peppergrass:
“ where did you imagine I was?"

“ Drowned, by gum!” exclaimed Hayseed.

“Who said so?” asked Pete '

“Jake Shinglewhacker. He chanced along
by the pond and run acrost yer clothes. and he
brun ’em up here and said as how he reckoned
that urnedfule who boarded with me (Jake is
a leetle keerless in his language sometimes) had
gone in swimmin’ and drownde bisself, and he

essed I would be out the amount of yer board

ill unless the clothes was uu’rh the money.
Jake agreed to come dewn alter breakfast this
morning and we was goin' to go over and drag
the pond and git you out and have the coroner
come and set on you. Shinglewhacker must
have made a mistake. Anyhow I’m might
glad to see ye alive again. That checkered suit
of yours wouldn’t bring much around here,
and’l thought sure I was going to loss money on
Y9 '

Pe pergrass’s clothes which were yet tied up
tight y in a bundle as they had been ﬁxed by
the thoughtful Shinglewhacker, were then
passed up to him and he presently put in an ap-

Hpearance at the breakfast table as mad as a

raging hornet and with an appetite like a
thrashing—machine.

It can readily be believed that Poppergra
did not do much ranging around that day. He
was not in a condition for sport or pleasure-
seeking. .

What he wanted just then was to remain
quiet, and ﬁll up his yawning interior with at
least three square meals and give his backa
chance to recuperate.

He hung around the house pretty steady all
day, and busied himself chieﬂy with wavching
Miranda Q. Hayseed’s graceful movements, and
wondering if the fates would ever ' rove ropi-
tions and he would ﬁnally s'ucce in in ucing
her to look on him with favor.

The country girls so far, and the boys. too,
for that matter—did not appear to regard him
with the awe and reverence that he considered
his due. In fact they had treated him with
more or less contumely thus far. but he was
still in hopes of bringing them around in the
course of time, when they got. further acquaint-
ed with him and began to realize who he was.

Pep ergrass was not discouraged yet by a
long 5 ght; and that night when Bob Bloomer,
Joe Somers and some of the other oath: of

the neighborhood came along, to get yseed‘s r

 
1‘.
:

 
!

. terms with the rest of the

16 Peter Peppergrass. the Greenhorn from Gotham.

 
hired man to attend a necktie part with them
and asked Peter if he wouldn’t ll e to go, too,
hr- willingly accepted.

He hadn't the slightest idea of what a necktie
pazty was, but he thought he would go and ﬁnd
on

He found out soon after he got there.

The performance eventuated at farmer Sim-
mons’s, and everybody—mad his sister—was

there.

The party Was inaugurated by the necktie
drawin ,in which there were plenty of prizes
and no lanks.

A job lot of calico neckties were jumbled up
in agrab-bag, then each gentleman resent drew
one out, which decided his fate or the time
being, for he was obliged to select as a general
and special partner for the evening the lady
whose dress corresponded with the necktie be
had drawn.

. Peppergrass saw that he would be on equal
oung men in this
arrangement. anyhow, and e secretly hoped
that he would draw a tie entitling him to the
prettiest girl in the room. Then he intended to
sail in and exercise his powers of fascination,
and show those country boys that he was as
as the best of them in that line.

However, he didn’t want to be in too much of
a. hurry.

He waited around till the most of the young
,men had secured their neckties and their part-
ners, then he boldly stepped up to the grab-bag
and yanked out a necktie.

It was an immense affair with a gaudy check
that compared very well with his suit; but
there wasn‘t the slightest resemblance between
it and the dress of any one of the young ladies
present.

.Peppergrass held it up in full view of the
audience, but no young ady came forward to
claim it. ..

Instead a general titter ran around the room.

Peppergrass began to think there must be

some sell about the aﬂfair.
’ He looked toward Bob Bloomer for an expla-
nation. and after a whispered consultation with
some of the young ladies who were in the secret,
Bob stepped forward and said:

“ Very sorry, Mr. Peppergrass, but it appears

the young lady that goes with your necktie is
’bnsy in the kitchen just now. We are going to
have some refreshments prett soon and you
know they must be preps by somebody.
She is the best wok in the crowd so of course it
fell to her lot to do it.”

“ Yes, I presume so. Just my luck, by jingol”
exclaimed Peppergrasr. “But can’t I put this

necktie back and take another grab? It ain‘t

right. you know, to dish a fellow out of the fun
in this way." ,

»“ Ohl don’t you worry about that ” consoling-
ly replied Bob Bloomer. “ You’ll havepleuty
of fun yet before you get through. It is against
the rules to exchange neckties, at your partner
will be through in the kitchen soon, and you’ll

» have more of her on your hands than you can

   
take care of maybe the rest of the evening.”

lezpergrass said be guessed there was no dan—‘

as: that, be rather imagined that be was per-
tly capable of taking care of almost any

 
ordinary—sized young lad , provided she was
passably good-looking, an be got the chance;
and then he sat down contentedly in the corner
to wait for his armor, the young lady who was
unfortunately etained in the kitchen.

And there he sat for an hour and forty-ﬁve
minutes by the chronometer, and twiddled his
thumbs, and ﬂdgeted, and yawned, and gaz d
vacantly around with the expression of a South
American baboon that has stra ed away from
home and got lost, and waited or the appear-
ance of the young lady whose drapery corre—
spovided with that gaudy necktie.

The rest of the company seemed to be perfect-
ly willing to let him wait.

They paid no attention to him whatever, but
went right ahead with their games just us
though he wasn’t there.

Several times when Peppergrass got a chance
he asked Bloomer if it wasn’t about time that
young lady turned up. to which he replied that
she would be along soon.

But she didn’t come, all the same; and Pe'er
ﬁnally got disgusted clear through and was
about to‘ leave, when the company gathered
around him and announced that the kitchen
preparatdons were over at last. and his partner
was waiting (or him in the hell.

“Now, brace up like a man and go out and
fetch her in,” whispered Bob Bloomer. “ She is
young and bashful, and you’re just the fellow to
bring her out in society and show her (if. G»
ahead and make a ‘ mash’ now that you’ve got
a chance," and Bob shoved Peppergress toward

the door.

He step out in the hall which he found
dark as midnight in Egypt. Some one evident-
ly put out the ight to bother him in his search
for the bashful young lady. But Peppergrass
was not to be ooled out of his game in that
w y. Not much. He knew a trick worth two
0 that.

Drawing a match from his pocket he struck it
on the wall,and glanced anxiously around in
search of his bash ul partner.

He caught a limpse of a dress that cor-
responded exact y with the necktie he had
drawn. But—ye gods and little ﬂshesi—the
female who wore it was black and greasy and
weighed at least two hundred pounds! In fact,
she was the colored cookl

Pepperng dropped the match and was
about to eat a hasty retreat, when she lun ed
into his arms like an avalanche, clasped er at,
barearms around him and planted a resound-
ing kiss squarely on his lips. ’

“ Lor‘ bress ye, hone l”she exclaimed. “ Dey
tnle me ye was wait n’ fur me: but I couldn t
git away a minet sooner, honey 1” and she gent—
ly clasped Peter around his delicate waist and
whirled him through the door, which some one
had thoughtfully opened, right in among that
expectant crowd of young to ks. .

The laughter and applause that greeted their
appearance could have been heard over in the
next county,, rovided an body had been listen-
ing. And as ineh whir ed Peter around the
room in a wild and reckless dance, something
like a cross between a wait: and a breakdown,
the ells and pub of laughter nearly raised the
rec .

 
“Peter Peppergrass, the Greenhorn from Gotham. 1'?

 
The enok had been a good dancer in her gay
and gushing girlhood, but she had forgotten the
art long since, and the principal part of the
present performance consmted of yanking Pep
pergrass backward and forward across the
room, walking all over his feet with her No. 14
cowhides, whirling him around, rancing on
his feet again. dashing frantically rom one end
of the apartment to the other, with her arm
clutched in a cast—iron embrace around his
fragile form, then ﬁnally waltzing on his corns
once more before she gave up exhausted, and
dro ped into a chair.

9 moment Peppergrass felt her grasp loosen
he broke away, seized his high bat and cane and
made a wild dash for the door.

He reached it and slid out into the night as
iihe had been sent for and was in a hurry to get
t are.

They were going to have some refreshments
pretty soon, but Peppergrass didn’t wait to get

any. .

Hisa petite had suddenly failed him, and he
was on yanxious to get away and ﬁnd some
quiet nook where he could throw up his sup er
and commune with his thoughts without in r-
ruption.

 
CH AFTER X I.

PEPPERGRASS cons T0 BUG HOLLOW—FALLS
VIOLENTLY IN LOVE—SERENADES run OLD
MAN BY MISTAKE—“PROTECTS” A YOUNG
LADY.

PEPPERGRASS‘S next move was away from

S¢¥iasbvilla

packed his carpet—sack early the next
the ing, paid his board-bill and left the Hay-
seed ranch.

He said the people around there hadn’tJused
him just right, and be guessed he would hunt
up a Elace where the inhabitants would appre-
c1ate is society, and treat him with becoming
res ct.

0 he bade good-by to Mr. Hayseed, and Mi-
randa, and the hired man, and the rest of ihu
folks, and then shook the dust of Squashville off
his pedal extremities, boarded an accommoda—
tion train and faded away in the distance like a
beautiful vision. "“

The next station was Bug Hollow.

Pep ergrass oi: oi! there, and hunted up an-
ot er oarding— ouse. ‘

he man who contracted to ﬁll him up at so
much per week, was an old farmer named Nub

I bins, who lived in the outskirts of Bug Hollow.

He was the unfortunate possessor, Nubbins
was, of three on ainly daughters, who were
conﬁrmed old mai 3.

or the past ten years he had been trying to
get rid of them without success, and it began
to look as though he would be compelled to
board and clothe them all their lives.

That was one reason why he accepted Pepper:
rass for a summer boarder. He thought he
ooked rather green, and it would be just like

him to {all in love and elope with one oi‘ those
old maids.

But Pepperr'rass wasn’t as green ashe looked
-—uot in that direction, he wasn’t.

Peter wasn’t falling in love with any skinny

‘

 
old maids when there were plenty of pretty
young ladies around.

Bug Hollow was full of them. Peter met
half a dozen the ﬁrst day he landed there, and
as usual he fell in love with all of them as fast
as they came along.

One in particular, h0wever, struck his fancy
as being particularly lovely. Her name was
Nellie Spriggins, and her father was a ﬂorist. ,

Peppergrass hadn’t been in the place three
days before he found out all about where she
lived and all about her.

She had smiled at him once on the street
when he bowed to her, so he fondly imagined,
and now all he had to do was to follow up
aha lead, in mining parlance, till he struck pay

irt.

He had read a lot of high-toned nonsense
about love-sick swains going out moonlight
evenings with a guitar, and serenading the star—
eyed daisies of their exis'ence, and being re-
warded by a sweet face appearing at the open
casement and -wefting a heavenly kiss throu b
the dew-laden atmosphere to their lovyer b0 d,
or something to that eﬂ'ect; and be thought he
would tr the scheme and see how it worked in
Bug Hol ow.

Peter didn’t own a guitar, but he had his
voice along with him, and be imagined he was a.
pretty fair rade of singer, and perhaps he
would get a ong all right without any instru-
mental music.

He resolved to try it, anyway.

Prett Nellie Spriggins was nuturally’the
victim 6 selected, being the bright particular
star of his fancy just at that moment.

ngpergrass waited till about nine o’clock
that evening, then he sauntered forth and
gougliit the palatial residence of the Spriggins

am: y.

Fortunately for him—~though unluckil” per-
haps for others, rticularly those who would ,V
have to listen to is singing—the bulldog was ;.
chained up in the barn, so he had a clear ﬁeld
before him.

He walked around the house until he found
an upper window with a light in it. This he‘
imagined was the boudoir of the charming
Nellie, so he (paused and got himself in position -
and prepare to sing.

Placing one hand imploringly on his heart, he
extended the other at an angle of {Orty-ﬂve
degrees, like an old—fashioned pump-handle, and

then, looking upward with the expression of up ‘

three-weeks-old calf thathas lost its mother, he
began: V *
“ Oh gentle maid, come forth with me ’
And wander on the beach i" I
There wasn‘t a beach worth mentioning
..within thirty miles, but Peter didn’t mind dis- .
crepancies of that sort. He went right on with,
his original love-song: '
“ And listen to the crickets chi
And hear the tree-toad screec i“

To hear the tree~toad screech! That would
he a ﬁne thing to get a young lady out of bed
for at that time 0 night. And besides, what
would be the use of it when she could lay in bed

and hear him sci-each free gratis for nothing, ' ’

witbutvrunuiug any risk of taking cold or Iv

  
Peter Pcppergrass. the Greenhorn from Gotham;

 
catching the seven years inﬂuenza out in the
damp night air? Pcppergruss wasn’t reasonable
in his roqunsts; however, he didn’t stop to think
of that, but corolcd righr ahead:
‘ 0h, fairest one, oh, seroph swcctl

(.‘onic out beneath the, moonhomn’s glow,

And list to the dulcot notes of love

That from my heart doth ﬂow.“

Dulcot notes of love! They were dulcet, in-
deed~just about as dulcet as the hoarse croak-
ing of a bull-fro , or the tuneful chirp of a buzz
saw when it stri esu knot. To tell the plain,
unvarnished truth, which. by the way, is the
only variety we deal in, Peppergrass’s singing
was enough to scare the‘chickens off the rOOst
‘ ; and paralyze .them with terror—unless said
' chickens happened to be deaf, dumb and. blind
in both feet. Peter had volunteered to sing once
at the inauguration of an or ban foundry. and
before he got through he ha frightened all the
children into convulsions. and the “Society for
the Prevention of Cruelty to Defenseless Or-
pantie"l were obliged to come and choke him
0

   
However. this did not prevent him from
warbling for all he was worth on the present
occasion, and he cheerfully pitched intovanother
Verso: ‘ ‘

“ 0h, sweetest maid. why slumberest thou
When thy lover bills then come?
Arise and don thy fairest robes
And~"

'Well, just then something happened. The
“sweetest maid 7’ slumbered right on. (In fact
her room was around on the other side of the
house and she was not aware of his presence.)
. But her father didn’t.

He arose. Mr. Spriggins did, just at that junc-
ture, and he didn’t wait to “don his fairest
robes,” either, but galloped right to the window
» and emptied the water pitcher squarely into

Peter’s upturned countenance. then ﬁred a cast-
iron boot~j tck at him, and elled:

_ “Buy more, young tel erl If you’ve got
about through that infernal howling, I’d advise
on to skip before I come down and sick the
all (i on youl Go back to the idiot asylum;

crawl n a. hole somewhere and hide; g0 and

_, drown yourself; bake your head; go to thunder;

; go anywhere; do anything but sing! I want to

' 8:99p! ' and down came the window with. a

e am.

And Peppergrass, where was he?

Ask of the ni ht winds that whistled mourn‘
. lull through his coat-tails as he dashed madly

in t 9 direction of Nubbins’s hoarding—house.

. He didn’t stop running till he was safe in his
_ own room, and he didn’t attempt to sing another

note that evenin ——or in fact any other evening
while he was in u Hollow. ‘

' S rigging was p alnly an uncultivated old

car inc who had no ear for music, and Pepper-

. grass made up his mind he wouldn’t waste his

talent on people who couldn’t appreciate it.

V ‘ Still, it was a. source of deep chagrin and

, regret to him to think that he should havemade

"such a. fatal mistake as to get under the wrong

.: window and serenade old priggins instead of

his charming daughter; as he really would like ‘

to have known how she would have taken the

 
compliment. on he considered it.

 
However, he was not discouraged yet. so far
as she was concerned, and he mount '0 make
amends for his mistake soon as he got u. chano“.

The opportunity he sought camo‘ the very
next day. Pcppergruss was out walking when
he espied pretty Nellie Spi‘iggins seated alone
on a rustic seal: under a shade tree on her
father’s grounds.

He approached and made one of his best bows.

She returned it with a smile.

Peppergrass was overjoyed. The great op.
portunity of his life had coment last.

Seating himself on the bench at arespectfnl
distance rom her be sucked the head of his cane
for awhile, then began:

“Miss Spriggins, is your father at home this
afternoon? ’

“No; he has gone to the city on business,”
was the reply.

Pepp'ergrass was greatly relieved to hear this.
He brightened up at Once and went on:

I“ gour mother is well, I presume, Miss Sprig-

me.

“Very well, thank you, Mr. Pepperhay.”

“My name is Peppergrass," digniﬁedly cor—
rectedzPeter.

“ Oh! I beg your pardon. I didn't exactly
catch the last s liable of your name when I ﬁrst
heard it, but knew it was hay, or grass, or
something of that kind,” explained the youn
lady. “It is such a comical name, I’m sure I’l
remember it the next time.”

Peppergrass did not know whether he ought
to regard the latter remark as a compliment or
otherwise, and it required another long 3 ell of
violent sucking on the head of his cane fore
he could think of anything more to say. Final-
ly he braced up, and remarked: i.

“ I called around to, Serenade you last even-
ing. Miss Spriggins. Little ditty of my own
composition I wanted you to bear; but I got
under the wrong window, and I jud ed, from
what your father said, he was not fun of vocal
music. so I quit. Real sorry indeed that I made
such a mistake. Did you hear about it?”

“ 0h. yes—that is, not directly. I didn’t
know it was you, but papa said this morning at
the breaklast-table he wished the authorities
would chain up the stray lunatics in the place
instead of allowing them to run around nights,
lilowlif’ig and disturbing people who wanted to
s eep.

Peppergrass turned red, then green, and ﬁnal-
ly purple. . '

“ Oh. you mustn’t mind what apa says,"
went on the young lady, innocent y. “He is
always saying something of that kind. He gen-
cr .lly blurts right out what he means, without
stopping to think how it is going to sound;”

Peter thought, if that was the case, Mr.
Spriggins would be a mighty unpleasant sort of
man to be son-inlaw to; but as he intended to
board with the ’old folks free gratis after he not

married, he was willing - to put up with a few ‘

inconveniences.
,So he stopped blushing and commenced to
suck ideas out of the head of his cane again.
Presently he found one and brought it out
for inspection:
“Miss Spriggins, don’t you sometimes get
lonesome?”


Peter Peppergrass. the Greenhorn from Gotham. 19

 
“Yes, once in awhile, when I have nothing
else to do. Why do you ask?” was the artless

re ly.

P‘ Oh, I thought perhaps you did," explained
Peppergrass. “I imagined you perhaps felt
the need of a companion in your daily rambles;
a strong arm to shield you from harm, and a
manly form to stand between you and all dan-
ger!” and Peppergrass moved a couple of feet
closer to the young lady; then resumed his
glowing discourse: .

“ Miss Spriggins, if you say the word, I am
at your service as long as 1 remain in Eng Hol-
low. You may lean on my strong right arm,

and know that you are safe from danger.

Nothing in the shape of man, beast or demon
shall harm your shrinking, tender form. No,
never, while this stalwart arm is near to pro-
tect and—”

Just then a peaceable old cow that had been
feeding unnoticed about the grounds came
straying along behind the rustic sent on which
the shrinking Nellie and the bold, daring Pep-
pergrass were seated. The animal paused when
within about four f lot of the bench, immediate~
ly behind the brave and warlike Peppergrass,
raised her head to a level with his shoulder-
blades, and gave vent to a térriﬂc, resoundin
“ moo-oo—oo-ool" that fairly made the groun
tremble.

Peppergrass ave one startled glance behind
him, gasped: ‘Good heavens! another mad
bulll” then scrambled hastily to his feet and
dashed frantically away.

He never slackeued his speed nor evan looked
back to see what had become of Miss Spriggins
till he had placed a wire-rail fence between him-
self and that ferocious animal.

Then he ventured to turn around, and—well,
he saw that ancient heifer placidly feeding on
the grass while the shrinking, lonesome oung
lady to whom he had tendered his valuab e ser~
vices as a protector, was leaning back on the
mstic seat convulsed with laughter.

Pe pergrass didn’t go back and offer to pro-
tect er some more. He thought perhaps she
didn’t need it, so he quietly and unostentatious-
1y came away.

CHAPTER XII.

PEPPERGRASS nuns IN A PICNIC—HAS DEAD
mans or FUN-AND PICKS UP A ammo
nonm’ NEST ON HIS WAY noun.

Pma‘s next attempt to distinguish himself
did not occur until a day or so la'er.
It wasnt a picnic that the solemn aﬂair took

lace.

p The young folks of Bug Hollow got up the
icnic, and of course the three Nubbms females
ad to go; they always went wherever there

was a likelihood of seeing a man, as it stood

them in hand to neglect no chance that might
offer for committing matrimony.

They attended the festivities in full force, and
took Peppergrasi along as chaperon.

He didn’t care for their socirty, tiarticularlv.
but he gladly consented to go, thin ing that it

 
would afford him an opportunit to branch ( at
and show the young adies an especially the
susceptible portion of the Bug Hollow females
——what he could do.

And when he got there, hd did branch out——
amazingly.

His ﬁrst performance was to sit down in a has--
ket of victuals, and mash a half drzeu custard
pies, four strawberry shortoakes. a pan of his»
cuits, and a couple jelly-cakes into chaos.

He got up, apologized and retired behind a
tree to scrape the custard, etc., 011' the rear
piazza of his pants; and then as soon as he came
out, he stumbled over a root and jammed his
head in the stomach of a fat man, doubling the
old fellow up like a dose of early cucumbers—-
and served the old chap right, too, for he had
no business to be there among the young' folks!
Then when Peppergrass helped the ancient in-
terloper to his feet, and attempted to apologize,
he stepped backward right on the trail of the
best-looking young lady present and ripped a
hole seven yards long in her dress. And it took
halfa dozen young ladies and all the pins they
could muster to make the young lady with the
rip presentable again and she called him an
“awful, horrid man, ’ and wouldn’t look at
PeﬁpergraSs again during the whole day.

8 was getting along famously, Peppergrass
was.

Oh, yes, he was doing nobly; and he began to i
feel that the man who invented picnics was the
boss benefactor of mankind—and he wished he
had him out there behind a tree in some S‘qlles-
ﬁred nook, where he could lam blazes out of

in.
But the chances are that he wouldn’t have
done it, even if he 'had the man just where he
wanted him. The plan might not have worked
asrvell with the man present as it did in his
imagination—anyway, he tried it on another
fellow and found it didn’t work very satisfaca
tori y.

The other fellow was a thoughtless young

man, who jeered at Peter’s awkward mishaps , 

and even had the audacity to smile right out
loud when he had the collision u ith the fat man,
and then backed up and got on more trails in
half a minute than a Sioux warrior sometimes
does in all day. . '

This naturally excited Peter's wrath, and he
thoughtjt would be a good plan to coax the
young fellow away to some retired spot and
gently, but peremptorily, tweak his nose for

im.

He mentioned the matter to the young man.
who came right along without any urging.

When he had got him just where he wanted
him, Peppergrass attempted to carry his bel-
li erent plan into effect. ,

gHe squared himself up in front of the young
fellow who had excited his anger, and caninllv
reached for his nose, and—well, an hour later,
Peppergrass began to feel almost well enough to
again join in the picnic festivities. His non
had stopped bleeding. and although one eye had
a mansard-roof over it and the other was some-
what swollen and bruised. he could see nearly
as well as ever: and after skirmishing around
and ascertaining that the young fellow whose
nose he didn’t pull Had disappeared (probably .

.n'"
~

 
'20

 
under the im ression that he had committed
manslaughter? Peppergrass rejoined the picnic
party, and explained that he had received his
Injuries from falling down an embankment
while in pursuit of wild ﬂowers.

Some of the crowd asked Peter what he had
done with the ﬂowers, and he replied that he
had slipped and fallen just before he reached
them. Then some of them kindly, volunteered
to go along with Pepper rass and secure those
wild ﬂowers at all haznr s: but he said he was
too tired and completely exhausted, just then,
to walk back there again. He didn’t care much
about ﬂowers anyway, and he hoped they
would excuse him. If they wanted to do
anything for him, he said they might give
him‘something to eat, and he Would proba—
bly feel better after he had ﬁlled up and got

rested.

So those festive picnickers gathered around
Perpergrass and sympathized with him, and
to him on the ruins of the basket of lunch he
had. inaugurated the festivities by sitting down
on, and asked him questions, rnd made him for-
get his mishaps and think he wasa person of
some importance after all. '

Everything went swimmingly with Peter for
some time, and he began to think that Bin:
Hollow was going to be a pretty good place to

nd the summer iii—especially after he got a
little better acquainted.

He was sorry he hadn’t come there in the
lvlirlslt place instead of wasting his time in Squash-

9. .

Peppergrass began to feel ﬁrst-rate. His old-
time chipperness, so to speak, returned, and he
felt like going ahead and running things and
sort of showing the young fel10ws around Bug
Hollow how a picnic ought to be managed.

Presently one of the young ladies suggested
putting up swings, and Peter went in for the
pro osition at once.

e'knew almost as much about putting up a
,swing as a blind cow, but that fact was not
, sufﬁcient to kee him in the background.

' Boldly be me ed to the front to assist in put-
, . tin up those swings.

a stripped OR is coat as he saw the, other
young fellows do, and proceeded to climb a
tree.

Pepperﬁrass was a phenomenal climbist.
He won d climb up about six feet, then slide
back to the ground and take a fresh start.
Half a dozen times he tried this, and the per-
, splration began to ooze from every pore, the
buttons be an to drop off his war. one by one,
his eyes bu ged out in desperation, and his face
got redder than a recently-spanked infant as
each time he slid slowly but surely back‘to
.where he had started from.

“ Go and borrow a ladder!"

, “Chop the tree down, then see if you can
climb it!" ‘
I. ;"’Go it, Peter; you’ll fetch it in a year or

“ Spit on our hands and take a fresh hold 1”

“Guess t at’s the ﬁrst time be ever saw a

I

Peter ZPepporgrass. the Greenhorn from Gotham. L

 
“came off, sonny, and give somebody else 9.

0w.
Such were the sarcastic comments and sug- l

u

 
gestions that were ﬁred at Peppergrass by the
young men who were watching his efforts.

But Peppergrass paid no attention to them.

He was bound to climb that tree now or per-
ish right there on the soot in the attempt.

He gnashed his teeth, and tugged, and strug-
gled and perspired, and with a ﬁnal despairing
effort succeeded in reaching the ﬁrst limb about
ﬁfteen feet from the ground.

Peppergrass got outside of the limb, ready
for business, and then he found that he had for-
gotten the rope.

Then he requested one of the young men to
throw the end of the rope u to him so he could
get that swing in workings ape sumo time that
afternoon.

The young man complied. He grasped that
rope, coiled up four or ﬁve yards at one end
and then stood back and braced himself and
ﬂung it up over the limb with as much force as
if he was trying to throw the end of the rope
to some one in San Francisco.

It came within an inch of Peppergrass‘s north
ear, and in dodging it to get out of the way he
lost his balance on the imb, fell over back-
ward, turned a complete somerset and came
down with a crash kersla in a basket of dishes
that some careless, indiyi ual had left right in
the spot where he wanted to light. I

It was sad, mighty sad—for Peppergrass

The rest of the picnickners seemed to enjoy
it very well—all except the old lady who owned
the crockery. She lit on Peppergrass like a
left-handed hen-hawk on a spring chicken, and
made him pay for every last solitary cracked
saucer and tenvcup and smashed dinner-plate in
the lot. '

Then Peter put his coat on and sat around
and watched the rest of the exercises without
making himself quite so conspicuous as he had
done previously heretofore in the immediate
past. '

But when the picnic was over. and the young
pee )19 got ready to go home, Peter broCed up
an! began to feel and act about the same as
usual—~if not more so.

He was leaving the grove in company with
the rest of the crowd, when he chanced to espy
a beautifully-constructed hornets’ nest in the
top of a bush about six feet from the ground.

“What is that?" he innocently asked, point-
ing at the round object.

j‘That? Oh, that’s the nest of a red—headed
thing-um-bohl They’re very scarce in this
country. Better bring it alang as a curiosity,”
carelessly responded one of the dyoung; men.

I’tsppergrass thought he woul act on the sug-
ges ion. , -

He approached the bush. reached up and
rudely yanked that “ thing-um—hob‘s nest ’ from
its resting-place, and then he suddenly dropped
it with a wild yell—and the rest of the way‘to
his boarding-house he was accompanied by a.
little picnic party of raging‘ hornets.

And when he at there. is head was swelled
no :0 big, and is acted so excited—like, that
Nuhhins mistook him for a crazy tramp and
knocked him down with a garden-rake, and
was about to stab him with a picket, when the
II :10 of old maids arrived just in time to savehis
l e.

 
\, ’_

   
Peter Peppergrass, the'Grcenhorn from Gotham.

   
CHAPTER XIII.

PEPPERGRASS RECEIVES A TENDER xtssrvn—
HAUNTED BY AN ANCIENT BUT TENDm HEART-
ED MAIDEN—PREPARES TO LEAVE BUG HOL—
LOW, BUT NUBBINS snnvns AN INJUNCTION 0N
mm.

11' was several days after the hornet episode
before Peter Peppergrass was able to appear In
public again. »

He did not want to come out before folks un-
til his head had resumedits normal size, and his
nose had ceased to present the a], earance of a
ripe cucumber, that some one ha accidentally
stepped on. '

Peppergrass was a little particular about he
looks, and he didn’t think it would make a good
impression on the young ladies of Bug-Hollow
if they should see him in his present condition.

So he bided his time in patience—that is, as

tiently as he could, which wasn’t enough to
uric—and in the mean time, having nothing else
to do, he thou ht up new schemes of conquvst.

When he go around before the dazzled gaze
of the public once more, he was going to do—
wag, goodness only knows what he wasn’t going
to 0!

He had more schemes and projects in his
head than an inventor, but about ten out of
nine of them were doomed to be glittering fail-
ures, as Peppergrass eventually discovered when
he tried to put them in operation.

In other words, as a failure the most of Pep-
pergrass’s plans were a ﬁrst-class succoss.

But let us not anticipate.

Let us follow Peter in his mildly»reckless
career, and take the bitter with the sour just as

' it comes along.

The third day of Peppergrass’s enforced
bivouac in the house, he received a. dainty little
note. r

It was post-marked “ Bug Hollow,” and ran
as follows:

"DEAR harem—I have felt for you from the bot-
tom of my tender and affectionate young heart ever
since your horrible picnic experience, but I have had
no opportunity to be e one with you and tell you my
feelings. I long to have a quiet (that with you.
Come out to Perkins‘s mill-pond, on Gooseberry
Lane, at 7:80 this evening, and meet ’

" Yours lovingly, N."

Pepper ass read the unique epistle through
forward, ackward and sideways; then he got
up and looked admiringly at himself in the
g ass. felt of his nose to see tht it was all right,
and ﬁnally began musing aloud:

“B jin 0! this is somethinglike business. I
thong t I' make an inlprrssion on the country
girls after a. while. Wonder who she is, any—
way? ~N—ah. Yes-no, it can’t be, either
—-but, yes, it must be: it is Nellie Spriggins.
Her name begins with N, and I’ll bet my mus,-

: tache it’s her. i She is sorry she laughed at me

the other day, and she wants to beg my pardon

and makeup. Well, I reckon she Will ﬁnd Peter

on hand at 7:30 sharp.”

And she did~at least she didn’t: but the
young lady who wrote the letter did.

She was a giddy young thing, “just thirty-nine
years old by the town-clock, and the ﬁrst letter
of her name was Arabella Nu ins.

She was waiting for him With, her hands

 
clasped over the front portion of her angular
anatomy, in the attitude of a. small boy who
has been eating too many green apples, and the
moment Peppergrass got within reach she im—, '
pulsively started forward, ﬂung herself con-, “f
vulsivaly on his manly shirt-front, clasped her '
bony arms around his neck and nearly sewed
his head 011 before he had succeeded in tearin

himself loose and backing away to a place 0
safety. ' , l

“ Immortel spooks! What do you mean. 3
woman l” exclaimed Peppergrass, picking up his _
cane and high but which had fallen to the ’
ground in the struggle, and smoothing down
[118 rumpled dry-goods.

"‘ It is your own Arabella! Don’t you recOg-
mze me?’ gushingly replied the ancient female,
with a seductive leer.
_ “Yes, I recognize you fast enough; but who
1n the dicks-us are you pitching on a l‘sller on
massing him up in this style for?” angrily de-
manded Peppergrass, backing off a yard or two "
further. ‘

“Oh! Peter, you don’t mean what on say;
you surely cannot! Do not jest witi me, or
you will break my ybung heart. Thisis the ﬁrst
time I have ever felt the gentle thrill of love
permeating my—~I mean, this is the ﬁrst time——
in short, yell alone of all the men, I have met -
have stirred up my virgin aﬂections and caused
them to vegetate and sprout, and now, when
those twining tendrils of love would cling about
the object that called them to life, youayou ~
rudely repulse moi It is too—too much i" and,
the antiquated Nubbins placed her handkerchief
tobher face and gave vent to several large-sized
so 5. ’

Still Pe pergrass was not moved—except in
the other irection. «

“I don’t exactly understand what you are
driving at, Miss Nubbins,” he said. “I have
never said anything that would induce on to'
think I regarded you with aﬂection. have
never encouraged your attentions, and I don’t
see why you come out to haunt me here. I ex-_
pected to meet somebody elm—a. different
female entirely. In tact, I thought the N stood
for Nellie—”

“ Yes; but it didn’t,” interrupted the ancient
Arabella, who had found her voice once more;
“it meant Nubbins, your own loving Nubbins _
and now I want you to understand thatI do no '-
gropose to have my emotions triﬂed with. You

ave encouraged me, and on came here to ,
meet me, where I am away ill-om the protection ‘ ’
of my father and sisters, and now—-” i ; , '

“Oh. don’t worry; your age protects you,"
put in Peppergrass.

Then Arabella was madder than ever, and she
gnashed her store teeth and shrieked:

“ My father shall hear of this insult! My age
protects me, eh? I shall acquaint him with 1
your words, and let him settle the matter with ' -
you. He is a dangerous man when aroused,
and I warn you to look out for yourself. Adieu, v-
false man; adieu!” and'the angular old maid,
with a farewell wave of her hand, faded away
in the darkness like a spook-bannted vision. ’ .

PeppergraSS rubbed his eyes to ,«aee that he ‘
was awake, and then he too faded away. , ,

This was really the worst experience he had

r l

 
a

 
gassed through yet, and he resolved to leave

ug Hollow the very next morning, and seek
fresh ﬁelds and pastures new—and a boarding-
place where there were no scheming old maids
to molest'and make him afraid.

He hastened to the Nubbins domicile, reach-
ing there before the giddy Arabella. aid up his
board-bill in full, and then told r. Nubbins
that he had unexpectedly received some news
that would necessarily hasten his departure, and
that he would leave on the early train before
breakfast the next morning.

Nubbins ex ressed his deep sorrow at losing
such 3 od oarder, and said be trusted the
girls hadgiiuade it pleasant for him while he was
there, and he cordially invited him to run out
and make them a visit whenever he felt like en-

, joying good society, and it wouldn’t cost him a
cent.

Peppsrgrass replied that “he would do so—in
about forty or ﬁfty years,” he added, under his
breath; and then he went to his room to pack up.

Presently he heard Arabella come in. and for
a few moments there was a confused medley of
sounds down there in the Nuhbins fumil y circle,
ﬁfty cents admission, clergyman and summer
boarders half price, and than Mr. Nuhbins
came stumping up the stairs, and dawned into
Peppergrass’s room with a club in one hand and
an old rusty horse— istol. that hadn’t been tired
off since the year 1 76. in the other.

Peppergrass executed a rapid ﬂank movement
under the bed, ulled his valise around in front
of him, and t on tramhlingly demanded to

'-'know what was wanted.
“Well, sir." grimly replied Nubhins, taking
’a seat by the door and bringing the muzzle of
that Revolutionary home-pistol to bear in

Peter's direction. ‘I want to know what your
intentions are in regard to my daughter?”

“ I intend to leave her alone if she will leave
me alone,” feebly squeaked P ppergrass from
under the bed.

“Oh! you do, ehf” hovvled Nubhins, etting
up and ebbing excitedly around under t a bed
with h club trying to dislodge Pepper-grass
from his ambush. “ That is your gain is it?
Intend to leave my daughter alone an skip
out. do yougafter winning her innocent young
aﬂections unbelmown to her arents? Come
out where I can destroy you! ome forth, you
heartless viper, and let me get a crack at you
with this shooting’iron l”

But Peppergraas resolutely declined tocome
forth and be massacred.

He got several vigorous pokes in the\ribs
” from the club, but managed to ward of! the
’ V most of them with his carpet sack behind which
he was intrenched, and he evinced no intention
, I of coming out and meeting the enemy in the
open ﬁeld.

Nuhbins ﬁnally ot tired of poking at him
with the club, and e desisted with the remark
that he would give Peppergrasu until morning
to think it over, and if he concluded to make
amends for his conduct by marrying the heart-
' broken Arabella, well and good; if not b

'- would then proceed to shed several uarts o
‘ his choicest gore and transform him in o a cold
' clammy corpse, and he wouldn’t charge him a
cent for the operation either:

  
Peter Peppex'grass. the Greenhorn from Gotham.

After which highly exhilarating and cheer-
ful announcement, Nubbins gathered up his
weapons and withdrew, locking the door on the
outside and taking the key with himrleavin
the unfortunate Peppergrass in a state of min
bordering on the ragged edge of terror and the
dark conﬁnes of despair—also under the bed.

CHAPTER XIV.

PEPPERGRASS suns FROM BUG HOLLOW—TAKES
A mom ON A rumour TRAIN—FINALLY LANDS
IN CROWBAIT CORNERS, THEN PROCEEDS 'ro
POKE UP A CAST IRON BULL-DOG.

PEPPERGRASS waited for some time to make
sure the belligerent Nubbins had gone for good,
then he crawled feehly out from his uncomfort-
able position under the bed, rose to his feet. and
staggered weakly across the room to a chair.

He looked at least nine years older than he
did before he received the pleasant little call
from his landlord, and even his clothes appeared
wrinkled and care worn.

Peter was in an interesting predicament.

He began to realize that old Nubbins meant
business.

Something had to be done very soon or he
would perish an innocent victim of misplaced
aﬂ’ections and an enraged old granger who had
more daughters on hand (and they had been on
hand a long time, too) than he wanted, appar—
ently. and was bound to fasten them like a mill-
stone about somebody else’s neck or inaugurate
a. graveyard with some one in the attempt.

His only safety lay in ﬂight.

He must get out before morning dawned
and Nubbins came up to carry out his direful
threat.

But how was he to esoape?

He looked out of the window. It seemed a
long distance down to the ground, but it was
necessary to get there in some way.

At once he began his Ereparations. When
midnight came and everyt ing was quiet about
the house and grounds Peter was ready to make
his exit from duranoe vile and the Nubbins
mansion.

Cautiouslg and noiselessly be lowered to‘ the

ound wit a rope made by tesrin his linen

aster into strips. a bundle consist ng of his
carpet—sack, high hat, cane and shoes tied se-
curely together.

Then he sat d0wn on the window—sill with his
stockinged 1th outside, felt carefully along the
clapboards until he got hold of the lightning-rod,
which ran to the roof near the window, then
swinging himself from his perch on the sill, he
commenced the descent. .-

Half of the distance was accomplished in safoa
tywthen something broke loose,’ and Pepper-
grass went down with a rush taking the light-
ning-rod with him.

The fastenings of the rod were old and de-
cayed and they had given way under the End-
den strain.

Peppergrass fell all in a heap, so to speak,

with that rickety old lightning-rod on top of V

him and twisted abouthis fragile form.

A moment later Mr. Nuhbms, who had been ,

aroused b the miss, appeared at the upper

window in his red flannel nightcap, with a light-

 
WA- .51.”: ‘4 . v l .. s -

 
.4W‘5;

 
\fvu¢<~m¢n~q»4.ww mew v\K_‘. 4

 
Peter Pepperg'raas. the Greenhorn from Gotham.

 
28

 
ed tallow candle in one hand and that same old
pre—historic pistol in the other.

He pulled the trigger of the venerable wea-
pon seventeen times in succession before Pepper-
grass got disentangled from that ruined light—
ning-rod, grabbed his bundle and galloped out
of range—just seventeen times by actual count
did Nubbins yank the trigger of that rickety
relic of the Revolution, with the pleasing inten—
tion of ﬁlling his ﬂeeing boarder’s anatomy with
a collection of half<ounce bullets.

But there was no harm done.

The weapon hung ﬁre and Peppergrass es-
caped with his life although he expected every
second that deadly horse-pistol would ﬁnally
make up its mind to go off and blow a skylight
through him. and muss up his mortal r; mains so
his friends wouldn't recognize the corpse, when
the coroner gathered him up and shipped him
back to the city.

An earnest, yearning desire to go ’way off
somewhere out of range of Nubbms and his
goat-grandfather’s antiquated showing—iron,

fore the danged thing exploded, ﬁlled Peter's
mind and lent speed to his feet.

He lingered not to put on his shoes and as-
sume his high hat, but dashed down the dusty
road bareheaded and in his stocking feet, with
the bundle tucked safely under his arm.

Straight to the depot he went, hoping to
board a night train and leave Bug Hollow far
behind him before morning. But in this he was
disappointed. He found the depot closed and
there were no indications of life about the place.
Evidently he would have to wait till morning
to get away.

But Peppergrass was equal to the emergency.
There was an empty freight car on a side track
near the station, and he climbed into it, unroll-
ed his bundle and resumed his outer clothes;
then sat down in the corner to wait for day-
break intending when morning came to dash out
and board the ﬁrst train that chanced along, no
matter in which direction it was going, so long
as it took him out of Bug Hollow.

While waiting he fell asleep, which was not to
he wondered at considering the siege he had
gone through, and when he woke up he found
some one had closed the car door, fastening him

, in, and worse yet—the car was in motion!

,A freight train had come along and taken on
t 6 empty car (as the conductor supposed it to

) during the night, and Peppergrass was being
whirled away somewhere—he didn’t know just
where, but he would have given two cents (or
more if necessary) in ﬁnd out.

“ By George! I’m inn box now,” muttered
Peppergrass, as he rubbed his eyes and looked
around.

And so he was—4n a box-car; and that wasn’t
the worst of it, either; he wasn’t sure just when
he was going to get out.

He was willing enough to get away from Bug
Hollow, but he didn’t want to be caged up in a

‘oattle car, same as a mule or a cow, and be

yanked away on a freight train.

Furthermore, Peter decided that it was an
outrage on his rights as a citizen, and he
ocmldn’t stand it.

I No, sir, he would not.

, ; Thou railroad men had no right to shut him

 
up in that way and snatch him along on their
old freight train. without waking him up or
laying a word to him regarding the direction
in which he wished to travel.

.116 would make them suffer for their temer- 
ity when he got out.-

In the mean time he thought it would be ago (1'
idea to make a noise and attract somebody s r. —
tention.

So he began yelling and pounding on the car
door with is cane. 7

He pounded and yelled for awhile, then in , ' "
yelled and pounded a. spell for achange, and
ﬁnally he pounded and yelled some more.

Then after a short pause to get his breath and .
cool off, he began again and varied the pro- 
gramme as before for thenext half-hour. ’
' The car he was in was next to the Caboosc, , in
and ﬁnally he made himself heard. :

The train came to a halt. 

Then the conductor and two or three brake:
men came and opened the car door, carelessly
yanked Peppergrass forth, nnd slid him down
an emban ment on his back, and cuffed him ‘
around as it he didn’t cost a cent, and wanted '
to know “what in thunder he was stealing a
ride for?" .

Peppergrass tried to explain that he wasn‘t
stealingaride, and to tell them who he was;
but those bold bad railroaders said it didn’t
make any difference it he was the Rangoon ct.
India, one tramp was just as bad as another
when he tried to beat his way, no matter how
he was dressed. And then they kirl-zed Peter’s
hat and cane and carpet-sack down the embank-V
ment after him, climbed back on the train and
rolled swiftly away, leaving him to reﬂect on '
their abrupt conduct at his leisure. m- .

Peppergrass was mad enough to annihilate
those railroaders; but he was afraid he couldn‘t
overtake the train on f or, so he didn't try it. .

Putting on his l igh hat, and brushing t! o
Cinders and dust cil’ his once gaudy raiment,
Pele: srt down on a convonieut bowlder, ard
{poised himself over, then sorrowfully shook his

ea . r

A few more such experiences as he had passed
through and people would take him for a trump
sure. V

And besides, if he wasn’t a little more careful,
he would be under the painful necessity of haug-
ing up his tailor for another suit of clothes very
soon after he returned to the city, so he thought
he had better go slow.

His vacation was fast drawing too close, now, ‘ ‘
and he felt that during the balance of his sojourn. -‘
in the country he ought to steer clear of people '
of belligerent tendencies who couldn’t under- ’
stand his ways. and try to obtain some real,
genuine. country recreation and en 0y himself. I
and have enough fun to makeup or what he
had previously missed. a ’

This seemed to be a good plan. and Pepper»
grass proceeded at once to put it into operation. r

. Gathering up his personal property he set ’
forth with a light heart and asomspine to scoop :
in the remaining fun in the country. .

He followed the railroad track until he reached
another small village,.which bore. theeuphonioul ‘
title of Growhnit Corners,” Peter ascertained r ’
by consulting the ﬁrst small boy he met. 1

v

 
1

 look

    
84 Peter Peppergrass, the Greenhom from Gotham.

 
Peter next asked the boy if the people around
there took in summer boarders.

V “ Reckon so—takes ’em in purty badly, some-
times. I guess. Loastways that’s what dad
says.” glibi responded the boy.

“I’m loo ing fora uiet, respectable board-
ing-house,” continued eppergrass. Now, boy
do you suppose I can get what I want around
here?”

“Guess so; and you may at more than you
want, maybe, if you‘re too resh. Can’t most

’generally sometimes tell till you’ve tried it,"
chirped the boy.

It seemed that the boys here were about the
fame as tney were in Squashville and Bug H01.
ow. '

Pep ergrass grasped his cane tighter and

very hard at the boy for an instant.

He was undecided whether to cane him or
not, but when the youth picked up a small-
’ sized rock in each hand and began to act as il.’ he
had decided objections to being caned, Pepper

, grass concluded to let him go.
I ,He ducked his/head just in time to avoid hav-
ing his high hat knocked into a shapeless ruin
by one of the small boy‘s missiles, and then
assed hastily on in search of a boarding-
case.

He saw a place presently that he thought
would just about suit him—provided they took
boarders.

' ’ There was a ﬁne lawn in front of the house,

and reclining on the grass near a rustic seat be-
side the pathway, Pete espied, as he'stepped
inside of the gate, one of those ornamental.
cast-iron bull-dogs that economical people some-
times place in their yards to scare away
Lwtramps. At least he thought it wasadog of
~ the cast-iron variety, it lay there so rigid and
still with its eyes closed. That dog looked so
natural and lifelike. and appeared so much like
a real, bona, ﬁde bull-dog that Peppergrass
smiled aloud to think how the ﬁrst tramp who
came along would probably get fooled by It.
' Then he stepped up and tapped it gently
 with his cane—sand the next instant he was gal-
’lo ing at break neck speed across the lawn
- in th that aroused bull-dog clinging to his coat—

f

‘ taiL: ,

 
CHAPTER XV.
, PEPPERGRASS mans FROM THE CAST-IRON
BULIrDm—ENGAGES roam) WITH FARMER
summon —- oars INTO A “ NICE. QUIET
,rmoa ” 'rms TIME—GOES our TO HELP
SLAMMER BREAK A COLT.
- As Peppergrass wildly ﬂed across the lawn,
trying in vain to dislodge that animal from his
death-1m) on his coat-tail, he began gradually
‘to tum le to the fact that perhaps it wasn’t a
' cast-iron bull-dog after all.
It seemed ’most ton lively and chuck-full of
. husinessfora“purp”ofthe cast iron persuasion,
and Peppergrass wasn’t laughing quite as much
just then as he had been a few moments before.
7' when thinking of how that poor tramp (in case
f he happened along) was going to bescared by a
make-believe dog. ,
There was no fun in the present Predicament
-—lf there was, Peter failed to see
entiy he began calling for help.

.1

 
Had pres-

“ Help! Fire!! Police!!! Call 01! your
doglll!’ he yelled, desperately, as he made an-
other lap around the yard in double- quick time,
with that determined bull-dog still clingingto
him closer than a brother-orasister, either,
for that matter (somebody else’s sister, of course;
that’s understood).

In response to Peter’s yells the owner of the
dog appeared on the scene'and took a hand in
the rumpus.

He picked up a stick and dispersed the dog,
much to Peter's relief, then he invited our
valiant hero to gather up his car t—sack and
other personal property, which be ad dropped
during his circus with the festive canine, and
skip by the light of the moon, or a little sooner,
it convenient.

Peppergrass skipped—at once.

He concluded that the climate right around
there in that immediate vicinity, so tospeak,
was almost too sultry for every-day use, so he
scooped in his valuables, such as they were, and
emigrated a mile or 30' further out in the coun-
try. '

His attention was next attracted by alarm-
house that stood near the highway.

It was a, quiet. cosey-looking place.

There was no ornamental bull-dog, nor any
other kind, in the front yard; so Peppergrass
went in and rung the door~bell.

The way you ring a door—bell in the country
is to take a club, or a brick-bat, or your
knuckles, or ‘most anything that comes handy,
and bang against the door until you attract
somebody’s attention.

However, not having on accident insurance
on his knuck'es. and seeing nothing else con-
venient, Puppergrass used his cane. After
some pounding on the door, it was opened by
an old fellow, airily clad in a last-year's linen
duster, straw hat with the rear section of the
rim torn oﬂ’, blue-jean overalls and a pair of
cowhide boots that had apparently been con-
structed on so dry-dock, and been launched
in the Jersey mu about nine years previously.

To this typical granger Peppergrass stated
his business, and in reply the shrewd old fellow
hinted that he was not averse to turning an
honest penny by taking him for a boarder the
balance of the season. _ .

Then Peppergrass said he would liketoask
a few questions before the bargain was con—
cluded. as he had been taken in pretty badly
several times that Season. and he was getting
a little particular about his surroundings, etc.

The farmer told him all right, to fire away
with his blamed conundru ns, and Peppergrass
braced up and began:

“ You haven’t got any rantankerous old mrids
around the house that you’re anxious for some
feller to lug 03, have you?”

“1Haven’t heard of any,” was the granger’s

rep v. ‘
“No bull-dogs or watch-do s or other ferov
cious critters laying around as eep. waiting for
a chance to hook onto somebody’s coat-tail,
have you?”

n Noan’ 7

“Any fish-ponds without any ﬁsh in them -

around loose on the place!"
at Noun."

m

 
»

 
a;
i’ :

 
new

 
w “4-,.- v

 
Peter Peppergrass. the Greenhorn from Gotham.

.25

 
“Nor mad bulls, or other savage animals,
or any hired man who don’t know enough to
treat people with becoming deference and re-
spect?"

“I reckon not.”

" Well, I guess we can strike a bargain, then,
Mr.—ah, Mr.—- I didn’t exactly catch your
name on the start.”

f “Slammer—Simon Slammer,” suggested the

armer.

“All right, Mr. Slammer,” went on Pepper
grass, “1 think this is the place I’ve been look»
ing for, judging from your description of it, so
if you’ll just ﬁx up your bestroom I’ll hang
around here the balance of the season and get it
little solid comfort.”

The farmer replied that everything should be
arranged to Peter’ssatisfaction. and the bargain
was concluded, and our perennial and irrepress-
ible hero was duly installed in the Slammer
household as summer boarder.

Everything passed oif uneventfully for one
day; strange as it may seem, one whole dny by
the town-clock elapsed without Peppergrnss
getting into a scrape of any sort, manner or de
scriptionl

But the next morning he turned himself loose
and the fun began.

Mr. Slammer had a spirited three—yearn d
colt that he intended to commence breaki g
that day, and of course as seen as Peppergrass
heard of it hewas anxious to assist.

He said he was pretty well ted on the horse
question, and he thoughtfu ly offered to help
the farmer in his task.

The plain, undecorated truth was that a wild
Zulu, imported direct from Kumschatka or
Hobokeu, would have been of just about as
much 1159 around there helping break that colt
as Peppergrass was. The Zulu might have seen
I colt before, and that was about all Pepper-

rass had done. He had never ridden one, and

e hadn't the least idea as to whether it was
usual to go up a step-ladder to mount a horse,
or climb up on the barn and drop 06? on the ani—
mal’s back.

But Slammer was not aware of Peppergra ss’s
deﬁciencies on this score. He thought from his
talk that he must know considerably more
about horses than Rarey ever dared to, so he
replied that he Would like to have his valuable
aistance in breaking that colt, and together
the sanntered out to the barnyard.

lammer brought the colt out of the stable
into the yard, and after half an hour of hard
work (during which Peppergrass materially
assisted him by standing on the other side of
the fence and yelling at the to of his voice:
“Whoa, there! whoa, Billl loo out or he’ll
jump over the barnl") managed to get it saddled
and bridled.

Then he was ready for business.

Slammer asked Peppergrass if he wished to
try the ﬁrst ride, and tame the ﬁerce charger’s
heart of ﬁre, and teach the unruly beast that
man was its master, or words to that eifect.

Peppergrass haughtily replied that he did.
He said that was what he came out for, chieﬂy,
and he would ride that colt or perish right there
in the attempt.

Then Peter climbed up on the highest portion~

a...

 
of the barnyard fence, and requested Mr. Slam—
mer to back the colt up to the fence so he could
spring on its back when it wasn’t looking.

Slammer complied.

Peter gave it spring—and the colt did, too. It
shied abruptly to one side. and the result was
that the amati ur horse» tamer took an inglorious
tumble in the dust with which the yard was
paved.

But luckily he was not injured, and in an
instant he was on his feet again ready fora
s<~cond trial, which resulted same as the ﬁrst.
The ﬂury untamed steed stepped abruptly aside
just as Peppergrass leaped and again he went
sprawling on his hands and knees.

This naturally excited and displeased Pepper-
grass somewhat, and after getting on his feet
once more he danced and‘howled and yelled and
got oﬂ’ a lot of three-cornered Greek adjectives
that he had picked up seVeral years before at
school and stored away in one of the vacant
lofts of his mind for use on just such occasions
as the present.

By this time nearly all of the people in the
neighborhood had arrived on the spot and were
taking a deep interest in the proceedings.

They leaned across the fence and chipped in
with their freeeand-easy comments and sarcastic
advice; and they did not char e anything for
their time or labor, either. t was call free
gratis. .

“Go it, Rarey; you‘re good for him!” En-
couragingly shouted the first. ‘

“Better blindfold the colt. He’s afraid of
that thing that’s trying to get on him!” chipped
in the second.

“Borrow a ladder and set it up against the
horse, then you can climb on easier 1” suggested
number three.

“Bet a dollar he never rode a horse in his
life!” yelled the fourth man as he produced a
battered trade-shekel from his ants pocket.

“He’d be a noble horse—joc ey in a race—if
all the other horses were blind or crippled!”
commented another of the gang.

“Guess they’d have to postpone the race till
the next day to give him a chance to get ready
for the ‘startl” sarcastically observed the just
member of the admiring crowd, at which they
all yelled and cheered—all except Peppergrass.
He was too full of business just then to pay any
attention to sarcasm.

That colt had to be broken to the saddle. He
had come out there to attend, to the job, and he
was going to do it or know the reason why.
Again be mounted the fence, and this time'he
also succeeded in mounting the colt. A

He sprung into the saddle, and instead of
placing his feet into the stirrups as sonic people
do, he eft them dangling loosely at the side of
the colt after a fashion of his own: and as he
sat there astride of the startled steed he looked
about as graceful as a pair of old-fashioned
tongs hanging on a board fence—just about.

Slammer asked Peppergrass it he was ready '
for the sendeﬂ. and upon receiving an aﬂirma—
tive nod of the head (Pepper rass felt tooim—
portant to speak to common olks ‘ust then. so
he merely nodded his head in a otty sort of
way, and glanced superciliously around on
though it was an act of great condescension on

  
Peter Péppergrass. the

, his part to display his horsemanship hetore the
public) the farmer let go of [he animal's head
and stepped asi ie. _

That wns all the cell; was waiting for. The
next instant it dashed over the barnyard gate
and galloped around the adjoining lot at full
speed with the self—advertised horsetnmer ly-
ing d0wn ﬂat on his back, clinging for dear life
to the animal’s mane and shouting for help at
_, every jump.

Peppergross wanted some one to spit on their
hands and dash forth and stop that ﬁery uno
tamed courser in his wild career and rescue him
from his perilous position. But nobody dashed
forth. They didn't appear to be dashing to
any great extent just then.

The more Peppergrass yelled for help the less
he got of it. That hard-hearted crowd just
stood around and lifted up their voices with
great unanimousness, so to speak, and laughed
> aloud at Peter’s awkward and ridiculous pre-
dicement.

Slamnwr was the only man that didn‘t laugh.
He stood and looked on in helpless amazement
as the frightened colt dashed around the lot
with the bowling Peppergrass glued to its back.

Finally Slammer decided that something
ought to be done. The only way he saw was to
lasso the cult and bring it to u. stand-still till
Peppergrass dismounted, then engage a regular-
ly-ordalned horse jockey to do the balance of
the breaking act. So be procured a long rope

from the burn, made a slip noose in one end,
then got it into position for a thro w. and sallied
fog-:31 in pursuit of Peppergrass and his ﬂying
at

Slammer had an idea he could throw the
lasso over the colt’s head the ﬁrst time, just as
he had heard of cowboys doing in the West,
‘ and bring it suddenly to a halt.

He‘succeeded nobly.

The lasso‘missed the animal’s head, but it
caught Peppergrass around the shoulders and
yanked him to the ground so quick that he
didn’t have time to admire the scenery much
along the route. ‘

Slammer was careful to haul him off in a
mud-hole where the ground was soft. so it didn’t
do much damage except to his clothes, and as
soon as Peppergrass came to he arose as one man
and dashed unanimously into the house, out of
sight. amid the enthusiastic plaudits of the
crewd.

The fermentold him the colt wasn’t more
than half “broke” yet; but he refused to stay
out there and have anything more to do with
the job.

0 “AFTER XV I.

Pmn SECURES SEVEVAL THINKS OF FUN AND
OTHER THINGS—GOES (lUT ROWING IN WA
LEAK? CLAM SCOW ‘FIN'DS: WELCOME SHADE
AND A SHOT GUN BEHIND IT.

0 THE next do . after Peppergrass had recov-
ered from the arse-breaking episode. and had
got the dry mud all scraped off from his
checked suit, he arrayed himself in his ten-cent
cone, hi h but and red necktie, and started out
'to intro uce himself to Crowbait Corners; and

Greenhorn from Gotham.

y

 
(

also with the laudable intention of seeing what
was going on in the place and scooping in what-
ever fun there was lying around loose.

He succeeded in scooping in several large—
sized chunks of it before nighl—so lnrge in fact
that he couldn’t convenienin handle them.

That was the principal trouble with Pepper—
grass—he was, in the expresuvw language of the
for West, always ” biting off more than he
cnuld chew,” in the way of fun; and the most

of it didn’t seem to agree with him very well,
either.

Still he was not discouraged.

He bravely continued his quest for amuse
ment and fun. unmindful of the disappoint-
ments and mishaps that crHSSed his path, and
he meant to keep on till the people realized who
he was, as he expressed it, and then he thought
perhaps he would be able to begin enjoying him-
self and pick up a little genuine ﬁrst-class fun
without working so hard for it.

He hoped soat least; and he thought Crowhnit
Corners would be a good place to iwgin. So
that morning when Peppergrass set out on his
travels about the Corners, he kept on the qui
hive (French for keeping his eye peeled) for any-
thing thet promised sport.

Presently he met a farmer’s boy, perched on
top of a load of marl, driving a span of dun-
coldred mules.

Marl was something new to Peppergrass. and
his curiosity being aroused he thought he would
ﬁnd out what it was. He motioned to the boy.
who brought his mules to a halt, and gazed at
Peppergress in a dreamy sort of way as if won-
dering where he had escaped from, and if the
keepers knew he was out.

Then Peppergrass, pointing at the marl with
which the wagon was loaded. inquired:

“ Sonny, what are you drawing?" ‘

“I hain’t drawing nothin’. The mules is doin’
the drawing, I reckon,” drawled the led, with a.

“gentle droop to his left eyelid.

“I mean, what have you got on?” went on
Peppergress.

“Clothes, I guess. mostly. What d’ye think
[’d have on, anyway?"

Peppergrass was getting red in the face now.
Looking sternly at the daring youth, he ex-
claimed:

“Boy, I don’t want any more of your fooling!
When I ask acivil question I want acivil reply.
Do you hear me!" ,

“Well, I reckon I ain’t deaf," blithely re-
sponded the lad. Just sing your little song. and
I ll see what I can do to areommnda‘e you.
Chirp right up, mister; don’t be afraid ”

The boy was standing up on the load now, and
Peter thought it would be an easy matter to
corner him up and Secure the information he
was after, so he asked:

“ S mny, what I went to know is simply this:
What are you standing on i"

“ My feet, of course! Imagine I was stand-
ing on my bend?” demanded the boy. ‘

f‘ I mean, what have vouon that wagon?" said
Pepper-grass, assu ruins: a belligerent attitude and
shaking, his ce'ne threateniugly at theaudacious
youth.

“Marll dang your eyes, marl!” shouled the
ladi .“Why didn’t you say what you wanted

 
Peter Peppergrass, the Greenhorn from Gotham.

1,.1lr r. I, r: I.
V

2»:

 
in the ﬁrst place? It’s marl, and we use it to
spread on green things. Take a sample of it
along. Take the whole load if you want it.
Don’t be backward. Help yourself. Here comes
a handful; catch it, live] , now. Want any
more? Oh, you’re going, air you? Well, tats!"
and the farmer’s boy grasped the reins and
started up his dun-colored mules at a lively pace,
while Peppergrass hastily slid in the opposite
direction, clawing that “sample” of marl
(which the youth had so thoughtfully handed to
him) out of his right ear.

Pepperﬁrass had ﬁnally got the information
he wante —and a pretty fair-sized donation of
something else, besides.

And yet he was not hep y.

In fact he felt quite grieved over the affair,
and he didn't fully recover lvis rquanimity till
he had reached the village of Crow bait Corners.

The lace was situated on a small stream
called omcat river, which was a favorite resort
for amateur athletes who Wished to excel in
Hanlan the oars (original joke copied from a
last year's medical almanac; dont know who
they stole it from. An explanatory chart and
a chrome always accompanies this 'oke.)

Nobody knew why it was called 'lomcrit river.
but it was generally supposed it I‘?(‘r‘ived that
name hecause it was impossible to drown a tom-
cat in it. Every he who has ever attempted
to coax a cat of the homes gender to a watery
grave knows that is almost impossible to induce
the animal to drown decently 'in any ordinary
stream. To make a cat stay permanently
drowned you want to pick out a place where
the water is at least sixty feet deep, then attach
a string of dumb tells, old horseshoes, gate-
hinges, ﬂat-irons, and other jewelry to the
doomed animal’s neck, and anchor it securely
to the bottom of the river. The cut won’t trou—

,_ble you any more after that.

But to throw a cat in ’most any ordinary
stream with the expectation of seeing it lose its
nine lives is only time wasted. Any one who
expects to drewn a cat in four feet of water
would yank the gold medal. for lunacy in a prize
competition for incurable idiots.

That is the kind of a ten—cent ripple Tomcat
river was. The water was about four feet deep
in spots, and in other placesit wasn’t. It wasn’t
a good river to drown cats in, but it was ﬁrst-
class to practice rowing on, because when u fel-
low got tired of smiling he could climb out of
the boat and wade ashore without getting his
feet wet—that is, not as wet as he would in
some rivers.

But we are losing sight of our old friend Peter

Pwrgrass.
hen Peter reached Crowbait. Corners, after
interviewing the farmer boy, the ﬁrst place he
struck out for was Tomcat river. He wanted
to get out in the water beneath the umbrageous
shades of the overhanging trees, where he could
lay back in his velvet cushioned gondola and
listen dreamin to the mclliﬂuous song of the fe-
male mosquito and the gay chirp of the faith-
ful watch-dog it the distance. P. S. I don’t
know what umbrageous shades means, but I
am betting ﬁve cents, all in pennies, that there
is where Peppergrass wanted to get:

He wanteon strike out when it was cool.

l

 
and gaddle around, and gather pond lilies and
hull- ogs and things, and enjoy himself.

But ﬁrst he must procure a boat.

Peppergrass hunted around till he found a
tarry son of Neptune (he had a. regular father
and mother. besides, but I don’t know their
names) puttying up th. knot holes in a clam-
scow. Then he interviewed the old salt. and
ascertained that the said clam scow was intend-
ed for hiring out to people from the city at so
much per hour and found—found in the hotlom
of the river, generally, if the man who hired it
wasn’t mighty careful.

Peppergrass looked the craft over very critic-
ally (nis step uncle’s half brother on his second-
cousin’s side was formerly chief clerk on a gar-
huge scow, consequently Pe pergrass knew all
about boats, or thought he id, at least. and he
wasn’t going to let any old tar fool him), and
then said he was afraid when he got out in the
river where there was more or less dampness
laying around loose the water would ooze
:hrough the pores of that boat and wet his

eet.

Then the old salt laid aside his putty-jabber,
and rose up and gave Peppergrass a slap on the
back that jarred four of his best teeth loose,
and in a voice resembling the hoarse growl of
an unchained tempest beating on a rock—bound
coast “ blasted his tarry top lights” and
“ shivered his timbers." for five minutes or so;
and then he assured Peppergrass that all the
crowned heads of Europe, Van Dieman’s Land,
Kalamazoo and NewJersey had gone out cruising
in that clam‘scow, and none of them, so far as
heard from, had ever got their sandals wet or
had any complaints to make when they got
back. And he ﬂerceliy demanded to know it
Pep rgrass considers himself any better than
the ban of Chinese Tartary or the Emperor
of Hoboken, for instance?

Peter admitted that he didn’t. '
He said if the clam-mow was good enoug
for the nobility it was good enough for him,
and he requested the ancient son of the briney
to rig the craft up for a two hours’ cruise, and

he would take it without any further parley.

Thereupon the proprietor (f the clam—ecow
made another jab at her with his putty-knife,
threw in a couple of clumsy oars, that looked
as if they had formerly done service as old—
fashioned well sweeps, and a tin wash-basin to
use as a bailer, and then shoved the rickety old
concern into the water with the remark that
everything was in readiness for the cruise.

Peter stepped into the boat, laid aside his
cane, and grasped the ours, and by a series of
awkward and intensely startling maneuvers
that nearly caused the untimely death of the/
old salt in a ﬁt of astonishment, he ﬁnally man-
aged to get out into the middle of the stream.

Then the fun began—at least it began soon
afterward. "

Peter’s rowing Was something phenomenal.

He pulled. and puﬂ'ed, and perspired in half a.
dozen different languages but with very little
result. First. he would dip the oars too deep in-
to the Water and slide off the seat in front:
then he would “ catch a crab ” and tumble over
backward in the bottom of the boat.

Peppergrass worked hard for half an hour. ,

 
I

 
28 Peter Pepper-grass, tho

 
and still the ninl-rageous shades that he was in
search of seemed as (or oif as ever. He didn’t
know if he would ewr get there, in fact. The

. harder he workod the less distance be sawmud to

cover; and to make nntlers worso that ancient
clam-500w began to leak in nine different placs-s
at once.

Peppergrass was so bigy rowing that he didn‘t

notice the wator until it got up over the tops of
his shoes. then the dampness caused him to sus-
pect there must he somuthing wrong, Hein-
vestigatod and found there was. Puppergrass
thought perhaps it would be a good plun to stop
rowing for awhile and hail a hogshead or so of
water out of the boat.

He did so.

Then he struggled with the rowing apparatus
again ‘(or a spell; then he bailed Some more.
And he kept right on changing around in this
way for an hour or more, until he was soaking
wet with river water and perspiration com
blood, and his hands were blistered, his nose
aunburnt and siorched to a ﬁnry hue, and he
felt mean, miserable and disgusted all over.

But, lol just at that discouraging juncture
Pepper-grass espied the c0veted shade ahead. It
consisted of a weeping willow, a scrub oak and
grime alder bushes that grew close to the Water‘s

go.

It was not a reckless profusion of shade by
any means, but it was the best to be had, and
Peppergrass pulled for it with the glowing

' ' eagerness of a bull-dog in pursuit of a. lightning-

rod peddler.
Peter began to brace up and feel good. At

,. last his hopes were about to be realized. and he

' would soon be lying ed in the shade recuperat-

ing from the exhausting struggle he had passoll

_ through.

Slowly but surely he approached the desirpd
haven; the shade was only a. few yards away;
the bow of the boat began to grate on the slml‘
low beach, and Peppergrass was about to haul
in the oars and get ready to disembark, when
the threatening muzzle of a double-barre ed
ahof- on was suddenly poked through the bushes
and rought to bear on him, and a gi-uﬂ voice
shouted:

“Sheer 0E! sheer oi! thar, yo darned one-
horse pirate, or I’ll shoot a pint of bird-shot

alum through yer blamed gizzmil That’s the

loci o! a brass-mounted ﬁghtin’ gran er I am
every time! Yer hear my gentle chirp
“ Come, dig out lively, or p p goes ther old

Bhootiu’ iron an’ oﬂ’ goes yer consumed headl"

IS

 
CHAPTER. XVII.

/GEAND FINALE—PEPPEHGRASS GETS A DUCK-

mov-‘mm OLD TAR. TAKES UP A COLLECTION
AND LEAVES HIM PENNILESS—PEI‘I’ERGEASS
PEDEBTRIANIZES BACK TO THE CITY IN nia-
GUST-HE HAS HAD FUN ENOUGH.
PEPPERGRASS turned pale as he heard those
darkly ominous words and looked into the
{twinning muzzle 0! that shot gun.
‘ ‘It was plainly evident that the old granger
was in deadly earnest, and Peppergrass lost no

time in obeying his injunctions.

He “ sheared oﬂ' ” and “ dug out " as rnpidly
possible: though it can readily be believed
that ho was somewhat nervous under’the peculiar

    
Gre"n':iorn fwm Gotham.
circumstances. It was hard work in row and
keep one eye on the threatening muzzle of that
old fowlinz-picce, consequently he got all tan-
gled up with the cars bvfm'e he got out in the
middle of ibo stream, and he caught more crabs‘
nautically speaking, in half an hour, than some
ﬁrst-class ﬁshermen do in all day. Ami it was
fun; oh, yesl it wus dead loads of fun—for the
grunger. »

He lay thch behind the bushcs and laughed
until his sides uched at the cxcruciatingly comi-
cal ﬁgure Peppm'grass cut in his desperate strug-
gles to get out of range.

The old former did not cars to he annoyed by
puople trespassing on his land, and he had
inerer intended to convey a hint to this effect
in Peter’s mind by givingr him a mild scare.

lnt he had succeeded far beyond his most san-
guine expectations.

Prppergmss was badly frightcned.

It shocked him to think that ho had got into
a community where the inhabitants wore ad-
(licted to the cheerful habit of hiding behind a
clump of bushes and poking out a double-inr-
reled shotgun at suspicious-looking strangers
who came straying around their px‘ﬂmlspi.
This reckless style of behavior seemed to indi-
cate that the people around there didn’t care
much about company. ’

Pepperarnss was onl a pilgrim stronger, as
it were, in Crowbait ornors; but he made up
his mind right away that the society in that vi-
cinity was ’most too exclusive and sine die, not
to say no plus ultra, for him.

He concluded to leave the place and go—
well, he didn't know exactly where he would
20 yet.

The ﬁrst heavy job he had on his bands was
to row that clum-scow back to its anchorage,
and pay the old tor for the use of it.

Rowing a craft of that sort, especially a.

the intense excitement under which Pepper-
grass was laboring made it doubly hard. '

Then. to add a few ounces more to his per-
spiring burden of misery, Peppergrass suddenly
discovered to his horror and surprise that the
boat was half full of water. During the dread
m iments when he was excitedly striving to get
beyond lho reach of the enemy’s artillery, ho
had forgo ton all about bailing out, and the con-
sequences were that Peter was extreminy liable
lo get lai; feet wet way up to his neck pretty
soon if he didn’t. look out. .

The rout wouldn’t ﬂoat over ﬁfteen minutes
longer, unless the bailing out machinery was
not under motion mighty expeditiously—and
Peppergrass wildly began operations in his
usual seam "mlike style.

wnsh hosin rmd commenced throwing water
liloI a win ll" spouting oi! the coast of Labrador;
while the oars, Which he had neglected to 56v
cure. slinde slowly from the row-locks and
calmly drifted away. '

Peppurgrass saw them going and he threw
aside the boiler, leaned over the side of the
boat and made a frantic grab. ans-r the depart-
ing oars—and that settled the business! Over
Went the clam-scow. and Peppergrass plunged

 
headlong into the water.

/

 
leaky one, was difﬁcult work at the best, and ,

He stopped rowing and hastily‘grasped the I

 
.ny
‘

   
_ ‘ highwayman.

 
Peter 'Peppergrass, the Greenhorn from Gotham. 29

 
He disappeared for an instant, then he came
up, with his eyes and mouth full of water, and
began ﬂoundering and puffing likeagrampus,
and making a desperate eﬂorh to keep afloat.
when the gruﬂf voice of the old salt, who had
been a witness of the catastrophe, hailed him
from the shore:

“Belay there. ye land-lubberl What’s the
matter with ye?”

“ Boat upset!” feebly responded Peter.

“ All right; come ashore then, blast yer eyesl"
roared the owner of the ciam-scow, which was
at resent peacefully reposing in the bottom
of t 9 river; “I want to see ye a minute!”

“Can’t swim with in clothes allonl Come
and help me before sink! quick l” gasped
Peter, making another Herculean effort to keep
on the surface.

“Git up and wade out, can’t ye, ye long-
legged ioonl What’re ye layin’ down kickin’
around and tryin’ to drown vet‘s-if for in three
feet of water, anyway? Want, somebody to
lam some sense inm yer head. I reckon, don’t
ye!” roared the old boatman in reply._ as the
same time expectorating carelessly on his hands
and picking up a seine stake about nine feet
long. '

Peppergrass took the hint.

He got up on his feet and found .the water
only came up to his shoulders, then be waded
sulkily ashore to where the old tar was waiting
for him with the improvised club.

The interview that ensued between them
when Peppergrass landed was brief but; right to
the point.

The wily old boatmsn collected nine dollars
of Pepper rass for the loss of his crazy oldciam-
scow, wh ch at a wildly reckless estimate might
have been worth thirty-ﬁve cents for kindling
wood, but considered as a boat wasn‘t worth
powder enough to blow it, up.

it was a. ﬁrst; class bargain for the honest old
salt; but it left Peppergrase stranded on a
foreign shore—the shore of Tomcat river, in
fact—without a cent in his pocket.

He had rescued the dilapidated ruins of his
high but from the watery elements, but his ten—
cent cane and the beautiful ﬁt of his checked
suit were forever gone.

Peppergrass felt sad—mighty sad. In fact
this was by long odds the saddest moment of
his career.

It; was impossible to remain longer in the
country withont money or credit—41nd Peter
didn’t want stay any longer in that section
of the conning, apyway.

Squashviile, Bug Hollow and Crowbait Cor-
ners had lost their charms for him.

He was suddenly smitten with a wild desire
to get back to the city where he could get bib-
ten b three or four mad-dogs. fall of! the ele-
va road a couple of times, get clubbed by a
policeman and run over by an ice-wagon or so,
and enjoy a period of comparamve rest and
quiet.

But how was he to get. there?

He turned his pockets inside out and ruefully
shook his head.

The old tar had cleaned him outas slick as
if the job had been performed by a regular

 
Riding ban to New York without money
was out of the question; and it seemed liken
rather long walk, bub—well, Peppergrass made
up his mind that. he had to get there in some

way.
And he did.

 
Three days later, just at dusk as the Jersey
City ferry-boat was about to leave for the New
York side, a dust-begrimed and weary-looking
iramp, clad in the disreputable ruins of a bat.-
tered high bar and a faded suit of checked
clothes, that had shrunk up till they were four
sizes too small for him. dodged quickly past the
gate—keeper and dashed hurriedly down the
gangway onto Ihe departing boat, and hastily
concealed himself behind a ll ad of baled hay in
He aisle, as if afraid some one would follow him
up and try to collect his fare.

It, was Peppergrass retuining from his trip to
the country.

His general appearance was a startling con-
trast to what it; led hem (1n the eventful morn-
ing of his advent in Squashville, a few brief '
days before; and he was also a considerably
sadder if not a wiser youth.

0n the whole Peter’s trip to the country was
not the d: zzling success he had anticipated; and
he says the next time he wants some fun he
isn’t. going.r to explore New Jersey in search of
it. The amusrments common lo the country
are ’most too able-bodied and energetic 170 smt
him. he says, and hereafter be will take his
rural fun in smaller doses and try to struggle
along with very few of them at that.

THE END.

DIME DIALOGUES AND SPEAKERS

F01? S 0110 0L EXIIIBI TI 0N3 >
AND 11 ONE ENTER TA INMEN TS.

Dialogues. Nos. 1 to 38 inclusive, 15 to 25 opu-
lar dialogues and dramas in each book. Eac vol-
ume 100 pages Elmo. { ‘

Speakers, Nos. 1 to 95 inclusive. Each speaker _‘
100 pages i2mo. containing from 50 to 75 pieces. .

 
YOUNG PEoPLEss snnms.
Dime Book of Winter Sports.
Dime Book of Summer Athletic Sports.
Dime Gents’ Letter Writer.
Dime Book (it Etiquette.
Dime Book of Verses.
Dime Book of Dreams.

Dime Fortune Teller.
Dime Ladiee' Letter Writer.
Dime Lovers’ Casket. .
Dime Bail-Room Companion.
Dime Book or 100 Games.
Dime Chess instmcwr.

Dlme Book of Beauty.
I33" The above books are sold by newsdeaiers
nverywherc, or will be sent, postmaid, to any adé

dress. on recei t of price. ten cents each. Bums
mo Anus, Pu ﬁshers. 98 William at" N. X.

I

  
BEADLE'S POCKET LIBRARY.

 
168 Deadwood Dick‘s Ward- or, The Black Hills
Jezebel. By Edward L. heeler. -

169 The Boy Champi :1. By Edward Willett. .

170 Bob Beckett’s Fight for Life; or, Shadowed in
New York. By C arles M .rris

171 Frank Morton, the Boy Hercules. By Oll

Coomes.
172 The Yankee Ranger; or, Dusky Darrell. By
Edwin Emerson.
. 178 Dick Dingle Scout. or, The Frontier Angel. By
Edward . Ellis.
174 Dandy Rock’s Scheme; or, The Golden Hand.
BK G. W. Browne.
175 T 9 Arab Detective; or, Snoozer, the Boy Sharp.
By E'lward L. Wheeler.
176 Will Wildﬂre‘s Pluck; or, The Hidden Hand. By
Charles Morris.
177 The Br; 0 inmander; or. The Maid of Perth.
BK Col. ren iss Ingreham
178 'I‘ e Maniac Hunter; or. The Mysteries of Night
Island, By Burton Snxe‘.
179 Daint Lnnce‘ or, The Mystic Marksman. By

- J. E. gen 1'.
180 The Boy 1d Hunter; or, Navajo Nick’s Scout.
B T. O. Hnrbauzh.
181 T e Scapegraee Son. By Charles Morris.
.182 The Dark-Skinned Scout; or, The Freobooters
/ of the Mississiopi. ily Lieut. Col. Hazeltinzn
‘ 183 J nbez Dart. Detective; or. The Hermit Trapper.

By 011 Coomes.
184 Fedtherweight. the Boy Spv. By Ed. Willett.
By Col. Pren

185 Bison Bill, the Overland Prince.
tiss Ingmham.
186 Dainty Lance and His Purd. By Joseph E.
Badger. Jr.
, 187 The Trnnped Tiger King; or, Dun. Paul‘s Pint.
. , By Charles Morris.
'- 188 T e Ventrilo uiss D tcc‘ive.
- Rogues. By divard L. Wheeler.
189 Old Rocky‘s Boys; or. Bonito, the Young Mus-
" ‘ tang-Breaker. By Maj. Sam S. Hall.
190 Sim Simpkins Scout- or. The Faithful Mountain
Mastiﬂ. By James . 130an.
191 Dandy Rock‘s Rival; or. The Mysterious Wolf
4, Elder. By Geo. Waldo Browne.
192 Hickory Harry; or. Roaring Ralph, the Ventrilo‘
ﬁght By Harri St. George
193 tective Josh Grim' or. The Young Gladiator‘s.
' Game. By Edward L. Wheeler.
194 Pros ct Pete. the Boy Miner. By 011 Coomes.
195 The endrrtoot Trailer: or. Plucky Phil, of the
" »Mounta1n. B T. C. Harbnu rh.
196 The Dandy etectlve- or. ' he Abducted Boy
Myster . By Charles Morris.
197 Roy, t e Young Cattle King; or. The Texan
S ort Unmasked. By Col. Prentiss Ingmham.
199 Ely Dan’s Mask; or, The Rival Leagues of
the ines. Hy Frank Dumonr.
1% Dictionary Nat, Detective; or. Bill Bravo, the
‘ Bear Tamer. ByT C. Hurbaugh.
200 The Twin Ho-somen; or, The Brothers of the
‘ Plumed Lance. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.
201 Dandy Darke‘s Paras; or. The Hawks of High
Pine. By Wm. R. Eysver.
202 Tom. the Texan Tlge ; or, Old Luke's Luck. By
Oil Coomes.
W Sam, the Olﬁce Boy; or, The Tables Turned. By
, Charms Morris. ‘
3 [.204 The Young Cowboy; or. The Girl Trailer‘s Tri-
v umph. By 001. Prentiss In raham.
205 . The Frontier Detective; or, Sierra. Sam’s Scheme.
' . L Wheeler.
,206 its Lightning; or. the Boy Ally. By T. C.
Harbeugh. -
~20? Kentuck Talbot‘s Band; or, The Red Lasso. By
Captain Mark Wilton. —
' 208 Trapper Tom’s Castle Mystery; or. Dashing
Dick's Disguise. By 011 Coomes.
me The Messenger-Boy Detectiv:; or, The Tables
Turned. E Charles Morris. 1
r 210 The Hunch cl: 9! the Mine :or.ReeklessRaln ,
themed-Agent. By Joe. .Mxer, Jr. '

‘ l

A Romance of

  
211 Little Giant and His Band; or Despard, the
Duelist. By P. S. Warne.

212 The Jimtnwn Sport; or, Gypsy Jack in Colorado.
By E. L. Wheeler.

213 The Pirate‘s Prize; or The My terlous Yankee
Schooner. By C. Dunning Clark. _

214 Dandy Dave. of Shqsru; or, The ’Fnseo Flash 0'
Lightninu. B T. C. Harbaugh.

215 During Dan 1; e Ranger; or. the Denver Detec-
tive. By Oll Coomes.

216 The C )Wbo Captain; or, Ranger Ralph‘s Ruin.
By Colvnel remiss Ingralmm.

217 Bald Head of the Rockies; or. The Ang'l of the
Range. By Maj )r Sum S. Hull.

218 The riiner Sﬁort: or. Sugar-Cented Sam’s Claim.
By Edward . Wheeler.

119 Burk. the Detective; or. Paul, the Boy Pard. By
Albert W. Aiken.

220 Or ck-Shot Frank: or, Bill Bounce, the Moun~
tnin Bravo. 13 Charles Morris.

22: Merle the Mid y; or A Wail’ of the Waves. By
Colonel Prentiss Inémham.

222 Rosebud Ben’s Boys; or, The Young Prairie
Rinoers. By 011 Coomes.

2‘23 Golrf’C nrnd's Wa'ch‘Drzs: or, The Two Pards
of Vulture it .r. By T. C. Harbaugh.

224 Krisky Fergus, the New York Boy. By G. L.

ilmu. ’

225 Dick Drew. the Minor 3 Son; or. Apollo Bill, the
Road Agent. By Edward L. Wheeler.

226 Dakota. Dick in Chicago: or. Jack, theOld Tar.
By Charles Morris.

227 Merle, the Boy 0 uiser; or. Brandt the Buc-
onnor‘: B Col nvl Pruntiss Ingraham.

228 The Prenc er D'itective; or Toe Boy Ventril0<

uist. By 011 Gnomes. '

229 1d Hickorv‘s Gri'. By John J. Marshall.

2‘10 The Three llov Sports; or. The Sword Hunters.
By (‘npmin Fremuick Whittaker.

281 Sierr'i Sam. the Detective. By Edward L.
thoeler.

232 Merle Monre’s Treasure; or. Buccaneer Brandt’s
'1‘ rent liy("ol. Prentiss Ingraham.

233 Rocky Rover Kit; or. Davy Crockett's Crooked

Trail. By Ensign C. D. Warren.
2534 Baldy, the Miner Chief. By Capt. J. F. 0.
Adams.

235 Jack Stump‘a Cruise; or, he Montpelier's Muti-
nerrs. By Roger Storbuck.

236 Sierra. Sam's Double; or, The Three Female De-
tec ives. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

237 Newsboy Ned. D tec ive; or Two Philadelphia.
Gamins. By Charles Morris.

5288 Merle Monro’s See Scraper; 01', Little Brit‘s
DrollDinguse. By 001 Prrntiss Inqrnham. .

239 lien‘s Big Boom: or, The Boss Miner’s Leagim.
By Capt. Mark Wilton.

210 Snarp Shot Mike; or. Columbia Jim on the War—
Path. By Oil Coomes.

241 Sierra. Sam’s Suntrnce: or. Little Luck at Rough
Ranch. By Edwr rd L. Wheeier.

212 The Denvor Detective; or. Dainty Dot at Gold
Gulch. By T. C. Harhanzh.

248 Dutch Jan's Dilemma' or. The Mysterious
Mountain Monster. By Maj. L. W. Carson.

244 Merle Monte's Disguise; or. The Capture of
Brandt, the Buccaneer. By Col. P. In sham.

245 Baldv‘s Boy Partner; or, Young ruinerd‘s
Steam Man. By E lwar S. Ellis. .

246 Detective Keen‘s Apprentice' or. JamesJumper
the New York Gamin. By Charles Morris.

247 The Girl Sport; )r, Jumbo Joe‘s Disguise. By
Edward L. Wheeler.

218 Giant George‘s erd; or, Arizona Jack, the
Tender-foot. By Buckskin'Sam.

M3 Ranch Rob's Wild Ride: or. Old Winch The
Riﬂe King. By ’I‘. C. Harlinugh.

250 Mer‘e .‘viontn‘s Pardon; or, The Pirate Chief’s
Doom. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

By Edwud‘Wiizett.

251 The Deaf Detective; or, Weasel, the Boy Tramp:

 
M3... .3»: -,

 
I’

   
BBADLB’S POCKET LIBRARY.

 
m Denver Doll’s Device; or. The Detective Queen,
By Edward L. Wheeler.

253 T 6 Bo Tenderfoot: or. Roaring Ben Bundy of
Color 0. B Capt. Mark Wilton.

$4 Black Hills en; or, Du ch Jan on the War—
Polh. .By Maj. Lev is W. Carson.

255 Jolly Jim Detective; or, The Young Protege’s

Victo .
2% Merle
at Bay.

y Charles Morris.
onte's Last Cruise; or. The Sea Robber
By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

. 957 The Boy Cnief of Rocky Pass; or, The Young

271 ghogy

California Pards. By Maj. E. L. St. Vrain.

258 Denver Doll as Detemive. By E. L, Wheeler.

259 Little Foxeye, the Colorado Spy. By Oil Coomes.

260 Skit, the Cabin Boy. Ry Edward Willett.

261 Blade, the S rt; or, the Giant of Clear Grit
0ng. B£ . C. Harbaugh.

262 Billy, the oy Rovrr. By Col. P. Ingraham.

263 Buster Bob‘s Buoy; or, Line, the Light~House
keeper. By Capt. J. F 0. Adams.

264 Denver Doll’s Par ner; or, Big Buckskin the ‘

Sport. By E. L. Wheeler.

265 Billy, the Baggage Boy: or. The Young Railroad

‘ Detective. By Charles Morris.

260 Guy‘s Boy Chum; or, The Forest Waif‘s Mask.
By Ca t. Comstock.

96‘? Giant so go‘s Revenge; 01'. The Boys of “ Slip-
lﬂMlne." By Buckskin Sam

268 e Deadshot’ Dand ; or. The Rio Grande
Marauders. By Col. entiss Ingmnam.

269 The Suartzvllle Boss; or, Daring David Darke.
By E ward Willett

270 Denver Doll‘s Mine; or. Little Bill‘s Big Loss.

L. Wheeler.

Jim’s Terror; or, Ranger Rainbolt’s Ruse.

By Oll Coomes.

272 Kit, the Girl Detective. By T. C. Horbaugh.

273 The Girl Rider; or, Nimble Ned's Surprise. By
J05. E. Had er, Jr. ’

274 Dead Shot andy's Double; or. Benito, the Boy
Pal-d. y (,‘01. Prentiss him-sham.

27!: Fred, the Ocean W if; or. The Old Sailor‘s
Protege. B Charles orris.

276 Deadwood vck Trapped; or. Roxay Ralph's

r Ruse. By Edward L. vi heeler.

277 The I‘.i0t Boy Avenger; 01', Captain Wild-Cat’s
Big Game. By Albertww. Aiken.

278 Arizona Alf, the Minor; or, Little Snap Shot‘s
Luck. By T. C. Harbough.

279 Colorado Jack. the Tiger; or, The Ghost of the
Trailer. By Frederick Dewey. ,

280 Dead Shot Dcndy's L-lst Deal, or. Keno Kit’s
N ew Role. B Col. Prentiss lngraham.

281 ‘Ned, the Boy ilot; or, The Pirate Lieutenant's
Doom. By uck Farragut.

282 Buck Hawk.Dercctive' or. the Messenger Boy‘s
Fortune. By Edward . Wheeler.

283 Roving S ort Kn; or, T! e Gin-st of Ohuckaluck
Camp. y Edward Willett. .

284 The Showmnn‘s Best Card' or, The Mad Animal
Tamer. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

285 Old Rocky's Ford; or, Little Ben‘s Chase. By
Buckskin Sam.

286 Dick, the Dakota Sport. By Charles Morris.

287 Need, the Buy Skigper: or. The Sea Sorceress’

" Cruise; By ack , arrsgut. ‘

238 Deadwood Dick‘s Dis uisn; or, Wild Walt, the
Sport. By Edward L. Vheeler.

289 Colurado Nick, the Lass¢ist; or, OIdSl‘s Protege.

y Major H. B. Stoddard. .

290 ulna, the Tenderfoot- (r, the Boys of Torpedo
Gulch By Major E. L. St. "Vi-am.

291 Peacock Pete. lhe Leadvillo Sport; or, Hawk. the
Boo Miner. B Albert W. Aiken.

292 Joe ore ,thn ‘lghtHawkzor, the Black Rider,
By Jon. . Banger, Jr.

293 Dwarf Jake. the Detective; or. Kit Kcnyon’sl

Man—Hunt. By Edward Willelt.

£94 Dumb Dick’s Ford; or. Eliza-Tune, the Gold

\

\ Miner. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

 
895‘ White Wing, the Ferret Flynn ByCluls. Morris. _

 
296 Govlndn. the Tiger-Tamer; or, The American
Horseman Abroad. By Captain F. Whittaker.

297 Arizona Giant George; or The Boyees of Sardine-
Box City. ByBuckskin m. .

298 Daisy Doll s Dash; or. The Ten Colorado Pards.
By T. C. Hurbough.

299 The Balloon Detectives: or. Jack Slasher’s Young
Pard. By Harry Eaton. '

800 De-.dwood Dick‘s Mission. By E. L. Wheeler.

301 Bandy Duke,1he Cowboy. By Major E. L. St.

l‘ulll. .

302 Big Bi nson’s Bet. By T. C. Harbaugh. ~

303 The Hotel Boy De‘ entire; or. The Grand Contra
Robbery. By Charles Morris. ' .

304 Bald Head’s Ford; or, Creeping Cat’s Cunning.
By Buckskin Sam.

805 Dusky Divk’s Duel; or, The Demon's Trail. By
Barry ll..zard. ‘

306 Spotter Fr'lz; or, The Store-Detectives Decoy.

. By E. L. Wheeler. -

307 Nick the Boy Sport; or, Three Plucky Pards.
By Major in. L. St. Vmin. .

308 Double-Fisted Mat: or, The Mystic Calltornis.
Giant. By Jos. E. Badger, J . -

309 0d Graybeard‘s Boy; or. The Girl‘s Ruse. By
C. Dunning Clark. .5, k

310 Kit, the Girl Contain; or, The Mod Seller’s
Legacy. By Col. Prentiss lngmham. Q

311 Frio Fred in Texas. By Buckskin Sam.

'312 The Detective Road-Agent; or, The Miners ’0!

Sassafras City. By Edward L. Wheeler.

313 Hone-st Jack’s Protege: or, The Dwarf’s Scheme.
By Philip S. Warns ‘

314 Clip the Boy Sheriff; 0". The Two Crooks of
Montana. By Edward Willett.

315 Tom the Arizona. Sport: .or. Howling Hank from
Hard Look. By Major E. L. St. Vrain.

816 The Street Arab Detective; or. Dick Dorgsn’s
Double Dealing. By Charles .MOI‘AIS.

317 Hunt-skin Ben of Texas; or, Single Eye’s Plucky
Fords. By Buckskin Sam. .

318 Colormlo Char ie’s Detective Dash; 01-,

The
Cattle K ngs. By Edward L. Wheeler. . *

319 Fris‘ y Fran” in Idaho; or. Old Skinnint the ' ‘

Shadower. By Roger Starbuck.

320 Cool Sam's Girl Ford; or. Captain Dick and His _ 3 I

T xans. By T. C. Harbangh. ,
821 Billy, the Kid from Frisco; or, Silver Mask’s »
Clow. By J. C. Cowdmck.‘ _
822 Fred Flyer, Detective; or.‘Abe Blizzard on Deck.
By Charles Morris. . I.
323 Dcarl Shot Ike in Montana; or, Hez Helper, the
Yankee Para. By Roger Starbuck.
394 Kit, the Denver 8 mt: or, The'Bonsnza Miner
King. By Edwar L. Wheeler.
3525 Dusky Darrell the Camp Detective; or, The
‘Dandy’s Daring Dash. By Edwin Emerson. K
826 Roy. the Boy Cruiser- or, The Water Wolf I
Wreckers. By Colonel i’rentiss lngmham‘. I . '
327 Ned. the Roving Miner; or, Arkansaw Jack‘s w
Match. By Harry Hazard. r
328 Rocky Ben’s Band: or, Big Pete‘s Big Haul. By
W. J. Hmoilton.
329 Dave, the Colorado Wrestler. By Maj. E. L, St.
Vrain. ’ _
330 The. Denver Sport's Racket; or, Kit’sBig Boom. 'r
By Edward L. Wheeler. - .
381 The Coast Detective: or. The Smuggler’Shadow. '
.M or. By Roger Starbuck. . r '

L,

 
'  355 Texas Fran "s

 
QDOQOOQOOOQQQDDOOOQOSO‘QOOOOQQ

BEADLE’S POCKET EiiiRARY.
rm

 
332 Dakota Dan in Canyon Oily: 01'. Colorado Kate’s
Check. By Philip S. Warne.

333 Bootblack Ben. the Detective: or~ Pooler Jim
and His Pam]. By Annhony P. Morris.

334,FliSCO Tom on Deck; 01'. T n). Golilen Gate Smug-
glers. By George Hennv Morse.

835 Ben Bandy, the Boss Ford; or. The Plucky
Parson. By J. Stanley Henderson.

336 Fred, the Sggrt. in Brimstone Rer (lam : or.

\- The Boston resaler’s Confederate. By Ed. L

Wheeler.

387 Daisy Dave the Colorado Gui -ot; or. The Boss
of Dead Line Cit . By T. C. Hurlmngh.

338 The Gold Bar Dr (active; or, Iron lkn. the Solid
Mun. By Major E. L. St. Vmin.

339 Rardo. the Boy Gypsy; or. Rcckliss Rolf‘s Re-
volt. By Wm. G. Patten.

340 Billy Bubblu’s Big Score; or. Tim, the Tramp.
By Charles Morris.

811 Colorado Store’s Dash; or, Old Buncomb‘s Sure

. Shot. By Philip S. We rue.

 Snap‘Shot Sum; or, Ned Norris‘s th‘le. By
Bucksin Sam.

343 Mike. the Bowery Detective; or. Pele}.r Prancor

’ of Vermont. By Edward L. Whorler.

344 The Drummer Sport; or. Captain Dasher‘s Droll
Dilemma. By Edward Willet'.

$15 Jaques, the Hamlpun Detective; or. Captain

' Frisco the Road» azeni. By J . C. Cowdrick.

y' 346 Joe. the Chicago Arab; or, A Boy of the Times.
B Charles Morris. .
847 i iddy Herbert‘s Prize; or The Girl Captain’s

Revenge. By Col. Prentiss n-rmlmm.

348 Sharp—Shower Frankror, Tue Young Texan
Fords. By Buckskin Sam.

, 84!) Buck the Mine!" or, Alf, the Colorado Guide.
By Maj. E. L. St. rain.

350 Had the Slab City S ort; or, The Detective's

, Big Scoop. By E. L. ln-elor.

351 Rocky Mountain Jae; or. D noun Simplicity on
the War- ath. By Col. ’1‘. H. Monsrcry.

352 New Yor Tim; or, The Boss of the Boulevard.

v By Charles Morris.

853 The Girl Pilot- or, Ben, the Reef-Runner. By
Roger Starbuck.

354 Joe. the Boy Stage—Driver; 01-. Nick Hicken‘s
Cunning B Mn, E. L. Sr. Vrnin.

pony; or, The Girl Mustang
Rider. By Bucks in Sam.

856 Idaho Ned Detective; or, The Miners of Turpot
City. By Edward L. Wheeler.

357 Guy. the Boy Miner: or Rocky Mountain Bill.
By Colonel Prentiss Iugrn am. «_

858Jersey Joe, the Old Tar; or. the Wrecker‘s
Protege. "By Mrs. Orin James.

Di ks Dash; or. The Boy Cattle-King.
By 0| Comes.

860 Jim‘s Big Bonanza: or, Jake Dodd and His
Gang. 1— W. J. Hamilton.

361 Oregmi P ii, the Sport; or, The Marshal of Two
Bits. By Philip S. Wm-ne. .
Kit, the Bootblaok Detroiive; or, From
delphia to the Rockies. By Edward L.

‘ Wheeler. .

863 The Ocean Racer; or, Trusty Tom, the Tar. By
T. C. llarbaugh. ' '

864 thz's Old Score; or, Bib Cone’s Right Bower.
By Ned Buniline.

365 Crack Shot. Hart ; or, The Masked Rider. By
Colonel Prentiss mzmham. ' ~

‘ 366 Gold Dust Rock. the Whirlwind of the Ming.
By G. Waldo Browne. '

QOOQQQQQQQQQOQOOQQQOO-OQQOQQOQ

mun» ,

 
367 Fred’s Bold Game; or. The Cave Treasure. By
Paul llibbs.

368 Jim, the. Sport in Wake-up: or, Foghorn Fan to
the Front By Edward L. Whevler.

369 Captain Blake‘s Jonah; or, Harry, the Cabin

Boy. By Roger Smrhuc'r.

37 Ill-rivur KiL's Donhlv; or, The Giant Miner of the

Gulch. By Major 11. B. Stoddard.

liluc Blazes Dick; or, Danger Doll of Dynamite.

] V '1‘. C. Hurliaugh.

» he Sea Cal’s Prize' or. The Flag of the Red

Hands. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

Lorry O’Lynn‘s Dash; or, Kyle, the Renegade.

l’y Joseph F. Henderson.

Jim. ilm Sport‘s Bigr Room; or. The Bonanza

King‘s Rival. By Edward L. Wheeler.

liowr-ry Boll, Detociive; or. Bianca. the Tam—

honrineGirl. ly Jo Pirrce.‘

Bucks-kin Dick’s Clean che 2 or. Jonathan

Jonks‘ Still Hunt. By 001. A. t un- F. Holt.

377 The Deadwood Sports. By Lil-ui. S. G. Lansing.

371' B onco Billy. tho Saddle Prince. By Colonel
Pi-vntiss Ingrahznn.

879 Dick. the Stowmvuy; or. \ Yankee Boy's Strange
Cruise. By Charles Morris.

380 Young Dick Tallllll; or. A Boy‘s Rough and
Tumble Fig-ht. from New York to California. By
Aloert W. Aiken. "‘

381 Dandy Bill’s Doom; or, Decrhunter, the Boy
Scout. By 011 Cooms.

382 Wide—Awake Leorge, the Boy Pioneer. By Ed.

\Villet.

383 Wild Bill. the Pistol Prince. By Colonel Prentiss
inmham.

381 Brimstone Bill‘s Booty: or, Mariposa Marsh at
Dond Man’s Gulch By J 'wsrph E. Badger. Jr.

385 The Boy ’l‘ram s; or. ’l‘vre Rougus 0: Demon
Hollow. By J. l. Hoffman.

386 The Montana Kid; or2 Little Dan Rock’s Mis-
sion. By Morris Reclwnug.

‘88? The Boy Detectives; or, Broker Blondin's Big
Reward. By T. C. Harbnukh.

888 The Pony Express Rider; or, Buffalo Bill’s
Frontier Feats. By Cnl. Prentiss Ingraham.

889 New York, Bill. the Dodrz- 1-; Hr. Two Boys Who
Were “Bounced " By Edward Willem.

890 The Ticket-of-Leave's Trick; or. Spring Steel,
King of the Bush. By J seph E. Badger. Jr.

391 Charley SkylarkY the Sporr. By Maj 4* Henry
B. Stoddar . .

892 Texas Jack. the Mustang King. By Colonel
Prentiss lngraham.

893 Peter, the Dandy Greenhorn. By Noah mm.

8 ‘4 Tom Temple's Big Strike. By Barry Ringgold“

395 Harr . the Country Boy, in New York. By
Char es Morris. ) .

396 Detective Paul‘s Right Bower. By C. D. Clark.

397 Tip Trossell. the Flatbosb Boy. By Ed. Willv tt.

31in Cnptﬁin Jack in Rocky Roost. By Col. Premise
lngmham. Ready August. 26.

339 Harry Somers. the Magician.
Ready September 2.

A New Mun Every Wednesday.

BnAnLE’s POCKET Limumz is for sale by all News-
dealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on to
ceipt of six cents each.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers.

98 William Sweet, New York.

873
37']
375
376

By S. W. Pierce.