The Wit and Humor of America
Chapter 125 : Hyar'. Dey mek lots er game uv 'im, an' w'en dey darnse pas',

Hyar'. Dey mek lots er game uv 'im, an' w'en dey darnse pas', dey sings out: 'Heyo! Mistah Hyar', huccome you ain' darnse?' 'Bring yo' wife, ol'

man, an' jine in de fun!' 'Hi! yi! Mistar Hyar', you done ma'y off ev'yb'dy else an' stay single yo'se'f? Well, dat de meanes' trick you done played us yit! 'tain' fair!' An' dey snicker an' run on 'twel Hyar' wish he ain' nuver year de wu'd ma'y.

"Atter w'ile dey got tired er darnsin' an' tucken der new wifes an' went off home leavin' Hyar' all by hisse'f, an' I tell you he feel right lonesome. He git a bad spell er de low-downs an' go squanderin' roun'

thu de woods wid his years drapt an' his paws hangin' limp, studyin' how he kin git revengemint. Las' he pull hisse'f toge'rr an' he say: 'Come, Hyar', dis ain't gwine do. Is you done fool ev'yb'dy all dese 'ears an'

den let yo'se'f git fooled by a pa.s.sel er gals? Naw, suh! I knows w'at I gwine do dis ve'y minnit. Ef I kain't git me a gal, I kin git me a widdy, an' some folks laks dem de bes', anyhows. Ef you ma'y a widdy, she got some er de foolishness knock' outen her befo' you hatter tek her in han'.'

"Wid dat he step out ez gaily ez you please. He go an' knock at de do'

uv ev'y house, an' w'en de folks come ter de do' dey say, 'W'y, howdy, Mistah Hyar', whar you bin keepin' yo'se'f all dis time?' He say, he do: 'Oh, I bin tendin' ter de 'fairs er de kyountry, an' I is sont unter you ez a messenger. I is saw'y ter tell you dey done hilt nu'rr big meetin'

an' mek up der min's de worl' gittin' too many creeturs in hit, so dey pa.s.s de law dat dar mus' be a big battle, an' you is all ter meet toge'rr at de 'pinted time, an' each man mus' fall 'pun de man nex' him an' try fer ter kill 'im.'

"De creeturs a.s.sept dis wid submissity, dey ain' 'spicion Hyar' 't all.

On de 'pinted day dey met toge'rr, an' each wuz raidy ter defen'

hisse'f. Hyar' wuz dar lak all de res', an' ef you'd 'a seed all de spears an' bows an' arrers he kyarry, an' all de knifes stickin' in his belt, you'd 'a thought he wuz de bigges' fighter dar. But sho! W'en de fightin' begin, hit wuz far'-you-well, gentermans! 'Twan't no Hyar' dar; he jes' putt out tight 'z he kin go. W'en dey see him goin' dey sing out: 'Hi, dar! Whar you gwine? Whyn't you stay wid we-all?'

"Hyar' ain' stop ter talk, he jes' look roun' over his shoulder w'iles he 'z runnin' an' he say, sezee: 'De man I wanster kill, he done runned 'way an' I'se atter him. Kain't stop to talk; git outen my way, ev'yb'dy,

_'Cle'r de track, fer yer me comin', I'se ol' Buster whar keep things hummin'.'_

"W'en de battle wuz over, de creeturs miss Hyar', an' dey say he mus' be 'mongs' de kilt, so dey go roun' lookin' at de daid, but 'twan't no Hyar' dar. Dey hunt ev'ywhar fer him an' las' dey foun' him squattin' in de bresh, tremlin' ez ef he have de ager an' nigh mos' skeert ter de'f.

Dey drug him outen dat an' dey ses: 'So dish yer's Buster whar keep things hummin'! Well, we gwine mek you hum dis time, sho' 'nuff. You putts we-all ter fightin' an' gits heap er good men kilt off, an' yer _you_ settin' tuck 'way safe in de bresh.'

"Den ol' Hyar' he up an' 'fess he done de hull bizness so's't de kyountry mought be full er widdies an' he git him his pick fer a wife, fer he 'lowed widdies wan't gwine be so p'tickler ez de gals. De creeturs jes' natchully hilt up der han's at him, dey wuz plumb outdone.

'De owdacious vilyun!' dey ses, 'we boun' ter exescoot him on de spot an' git shed uv 'im onct fer all.' But he baig mighty hard an' some uv 'em think he be wuss punish ef dey jes' gins 'im a good hidin' an' lets 'im live on alone, a mis'able ol' bachelder, widout no pusson ter tek notuss uv 'im, 'kase none er de widdies wuz gwine ma'y a cowerd."

"Why, Aunt 'Phrony," said Ned, "he must have found a wife at last, for how about Mis' Molly Hyar'?"

"Shucks!" said she, "is _I_ uver tol' you 'bout Mis' Molly Hyar'? Naw, suh, she b'longs in dem ol' n.i.g.g.e.r tales whar Nancy tells you. De Injun tales ain' say nuttin' 'bout no wife er his'n. He wuz too gre't a fighter an' too full er 'havishness uver ter sottle down wid a wife; an'

now lemme finish de tale.

"Dey gin him a turr'ble trouncin' an' den turnt him aloose, an' stidder gittin' him a wife he got him a hide dat smart f'um haid ter heels; but w'en my daddy tell dat tale he useter een' her up dis-a-way, 'An' mebby Hyar' git de bes' uv 'em, atter all, 'kase w'en you git a hidin', de smart's soon over, but w'en you git a wife, de mis'ry done come ter stay.'"

THE CO-OPERATIVE HOUSEKEEPERS[2]

BY ELLIOTT FLOWER

Ten thoughtful women, ever wise, A wondrous scheme did once devise For ease, and to economize.

"Cooperation!" was their cry, And not a husband dared deny 'Twould life and labor simplify.

One gardener, the ten decreed, Was all the neighborhood would need To plant and trim and rake and weed.

The money saved they could invest As vagrant fancy might suggest, And each could then be better dressed.

So well this worked that, on the whole, It seemed to them extremely droll To pay so much for handling coal.

One man all work then undertook, And former methods they forsook, Deciding even on one cook.

One dining-room was next in line, Where, free from care, they all could dine At less expense, as you'll divine.

"Two maids," they said, "could quickly flit From home to home, so why permit Expense that brings no benefit?"

Economy of cash and care Became a hobby of the fair, Until their husbands sought a share.

"Although," the latter said, "all goes For luxuries and costly clothes, The method still advantage shows.

"While we've not gained, we apprehend Good Fortune will on us attend, If we continue to the end.

"If you've succeeded, why should we From constant toil be never free?

One income should sufficient be;

"And, taking turns in earning that, We'll have the leisure to wax fat And spend much time in idle chat.

"So let us see the matter through, And, in this line, it must be true One house for all will surely do.

"And if one house means less of strife, To gain the comforts of this life, Why, further progress means one wife."

Ten women now, their acts attest, Prefer ten homes, and deem it best To let cooperation rest.

[Footnote 2: Lippincott's Magazine.]

A COMMITTEE FROM KELLY'S

BY J.V.Z. BELDEN

"Katherine--give it up, dear--" The man looked down into the earnest eyes of the girl as she sat in the shadow of a palm in the conservatory at the Morrison's. Strains of music from the ball-room fell on unheeding ears and she sighed as she looked up at him.

"I can not turn back now, Everett," she said. "Ever since that day I spent down on the east side I have looked at life from a different standpoint. A message came to me then and I must listen. For a year I have been preparing myself to take my part in this work. To-morrow I take possession of what is called a model flat, and I hope to teach those poor little children something besides the _three R's_. To tell them how to take a little suns.h.i.+ne into their dismal homes." She looked like some fair saint with her face illumined with love of humanity.

"Might I venture to suggest that there is plenty of room for suns.h.i.+ne in an old house up the Avenue," said the man wistfully.

The girl looked up quickly--"Don't, Everett, give me six months to see what I can do--then I will answer the question you asked me last night."

"Oh, my dear, my dear," he said, "you do not know how I hate to have you go down there. My sympathy with the great unwashed is not deep enough for me to be willing to have you mingle with them. Then, to be quite honest, I have found them rather a happy lot."

"Listen, Everett," said the girl. "Come down to me a month from to-night and I will show you that I am right and you are wrong."

"A _whole_ month!" the man protested.

"Yes, a whole month--"