OCR Text |
Show It's a Boy. One evening recently the friends of a married couple up iu Chillicothe determined lo give them a surprise party. To this end, twelve couples ol young Indies and gentlemen, gentle-men, wilh well-tilled baskets, made their appearance before the house about 9 o'clock. As they came up to the door they saw the gentleman standing in the alleyway with his overcoat on, smoking a cigar and the parlor was all lighted up. This struck them as rather singular, but tho leader grabbed the door-knob, and they rushed hilariously in. Th gas was burning brightly, and six dignified old ladies were sitting around the stove, looting as solemn as grand inquisitors. "Oh, my? whereas Matlie?" ehsuled one exuberant young lady, setting her basket ou the piano." "She's up stairs," said an old lady, looking over her spectacles wilh solemn acrimony. "Let's have her down," screamed half a dozen girls in chorus, as they made a break for the hall. "Here, girls, girls, don't gs up there!" and the old ladies made a hasty attempt to check the proposed raid. "Why, what on earth's tho matter here, anyhow?" inquired the impatient impa-tient darlings. "Well, I believe it's a bjy." "Oh, let's go!" And that company of nice young men and women moved away like a soap-bubble in a hurricane, and tho girls never stopped (wr beaux or baskets, but stuuVd their handkerchiefs handker-chiefs in their mouths lo hold their breath down till thev were safe behind their own doors, and not a cirl in the Fourth ward knows where Mattie ! lives. ' |