A Melting Story.

Cromwell Argus, Volume IV, Issue 173, 4 March 1873, Page 7

A Melting Story.

One winter evening, a country storekeeper in the Green Mountain State was about closing up for the night, and while standing in the snow outside, putting up the window shutters, he saw through the glass a lounging, worthless fellow within grab a pound of fresh butter from the shelf, and conceal it in his hat. The act whs no sooner detected than the revenge was hit upon, and a very few minutes found the Green Mountain stovekeeper at once indulging his appetite for fun to the fullest extent, and paying off the thief with a facetious sort of torture, for which he would have gained a premium from the old Inquisition. " T say, Seth," said'the storekeeper, coining in and closing the door after him, slapping his hands over his shoulders, and stamping the snow off his feet. Seth had his hand on the door, his hat on his head, and the roll of butter in his hat, anxious to make his exit as soon as possible. " T say, Seth. sit down ; T reckon, now, on such a cold night aSvthis, a little something warm would not hurt a fellow."

Seth felfc very uncertain ; he had the Hitter, and was exceedingly anxious.to he )ff, but the temptation of something warm sadly interfered with his resolution to go. rhis hesitation, however, was soon settled i>y the right owner of the butter taking 3eth by the shoulders and planting him in \ seat close to the stove, where he was in 311 ch a manner cornered in by the boxes and barrels that, while the grocer stood before him, there was no possibility of getting out, and right in this very place sure enough the storekeeper sat down. " Seth, we'll have a little warm Santa Cruz," said the Green Mountain grocer ; so he opened the stove-door, and stuffed-in . as many sticks as the place would admit ; " without it you'd freeze goino; home such a night as this." Seth already felt the butter settling down cjoser to his hair, and he jumped up, declaring he must go. " Not until you have something warm. Seth. Seth, come, I've got a story to tell you." and Seth was again rushed into his seat by his cunning tormentor. "Oh! it's so.hot here," said the petty thief, attempting to rise. "Sit down—don't be in such a hurry," retorted the grocer, pushing him back into the chair. " But T've got the cows to fodder, and the wood to split, and I must be going," said the persecuted chap. " But you mus'nt tear yourself away, Seth, in this manner. Sit down, let the cows take care of themselves, and keep yourself cool ; you appear to be a little fidgetty," said the roguish grocer, with a malicious leer. The next thing was the production of two smoking glasses of hot toddy, the very sight of which, in Seth's present situation, would have made the hair stand erect upon his head, had it not been well oiled and kept down by the butter. " Seth, T will give you a toast now, and yon can butter it yourself," said the grocer, with an air of such consummate simplicity, ! that poor Seth believed himself unsuspected. "Seth, here's—here's a Christmas goose, well-roasted, eh 1 I tell you it's the greatest eating in creation. And Seth, } don't you never use hog's fat or common : cooking butter, to baste it with. Come, I take your butter—l mean. Seth, take vour I toddy." ' ' " ... Poor Seth now began to smoke, as well las melt, and his mouth was hermetically ! sealed up <is though lie had born dumb. I Streak after streak of the butter came 'pouring from under his hat, and his handkerchief was already soaked with wiping away the greasy overflow. Talking away ! as if nothing was the matter, the "fun loving 1 grocer stuffed wood into the stove, while i poor Seth sat upright, with his back against the counter, and his knees touching the red-hot furnace in front. " Cold night, this," said the mischievous I grocer. "Why, Seth, you seem to per-;-spire as if you were warm ! Why don't: !you take your hat oft'? Here, let me put i your hat away ?" " No," exclaimed poor Seth, fit last. "no, 1 must go, let me out, I ain't well ; i let me go." ! A greasy cataract was now pouring down I the poor man's face and neck, and soaking I into his clothes, and trickling down his i body into his boots, so that he was literally in a perfect bath of oil. "Well, good night, Seth," said the humorous Yermonter, "if you will go ;" and 'adding, as Seth darted out of the door, " J say, Seth, J. reckon the fun J have had is fully worth ninepence, so T shan't charge you anything for that pound of butter in your hat.''