THE PURPLE MOTH
By Isadora Benshingham
(Copyright by W. Ck-Chapman.)
"Now you've done it, Abner!" ex
claimed Mrs. Post
"Done what?" demanded her hus
band crossly, giving the hammer in
his hand a last vicious bang across a
nail head.
"Killed a purple moth see, with
the head of the hammer, and it's a
bad sign."
"Sign, nothing!" growled Abner,
wrathfully. "The only sign I'm inter
ested in at the present time is the
sign I'm nailing up right here and
now, and it says, 'No Trespassing,'
and the first one who questions it
gets a dose of salt and pepper."
"You think you're quite right, Ab
ner?" insinuated Mrs. Post gently.
"I know I'm right!" stormed back
her better half. "See here, Maria, no
milk-and-water sentiment! This here
creek was on my land when I bought
it, wasn't it?"
"Yes, Abner, but it's crooked and
cut in on the other side so that
neighbor Dodd has near a third of it"
"Let him keep it; let him keep it!
That's all right!" shouted Abner. "I've
no objection, but when he sets his
visitors to fishing all over it and his
cows wading in to muddy it, and in
trudes on my land, let him look out
I'm going to stake it off and set up a
barb wire fence. Then let him and
crowd enjoy the two or three feet of
shallow water to their hearts' con
tent" "I think you're wrong, Abner," pro
tested Mrs. Post seriously. "It didn't
used to be this way, but all neigh
borly and pleasant. I do hope be
cause Mr. Dodd crowed over you a
bit when you insisted about there be
ing no likelihood of a war, and it
came, that you won't harbor up a
wicked grievance."
"Never mind about that," snapped
her husband, "Dodd can't lord it j
over me. The sign goes up and the
fence later."
"And what about the young peo
ple?" voiced Mrs. Post gravely. "Bob
Dodd and our Nell are all but en
gaged. Going to disturb their hap
piness?" "Yes, I am !" fairly roared Post "If
I so much as hear of my daughter en
couraging the son of an enemy I'll
lock her up in a nunnery!"
Mrs. Post sighed and turned away.
When she got home she had a good
I
MTr.'
Grabbed Up His Gun and Made Back
for the Brook
crying spell. She knew her husband
was in the wrong and lamented the
fact and feared for the Outcome. A
neighborly row, she realized, was a
thing to be dreaded where a man of
the set ideas of her arbitrary husband
was concerned.
Mrs. Post was superstitious. Sna
had imbibed all current old-count
lore regarding signs and tokens fromi