THAT HIRED GIRL.

Evening Star, Issue 3899, 23 August 1875, Page 3

THAT HIRED GIRL.

( From, the Detroit Free Press. )

When she came to work for the family on Congress street, the lady of the house sat down and told her that agents, book pedlars, hat-rack men, picture sellers, ash buyers, rag men, and all that class of people, must be met at the front door and coldly repulsed, and Sarah said she’d repulse ’em if she had to break every broomstick in Detroit. And she did. She threw the door wide open, bluffed right up to ’em, and when she got through talking the cheekiest agent was only too glad to leave. It got so after a while that pedlars marked that house, and the door bell never rang except for company. The other day as the lady of the house was enjoying a nap, and Sarah was wiping off the spoons, the bell rang. She hastened to the door, expecting to see a lady, but her eyes encountered a slim man dressed in black and wearing a white neck-tie. He was the new minister, and he was going around to get acquainted with the members of his flock, but Sarah wasn’t supposed to know this. “Ah—urn—is Mrs—an T “Git 1” explained Sarah, pointing to the gate. “ Beg pardon, but I’d like to see—see !” “ Meander !” she shouted, looking around for a weapon ; “we don’t want any flower-sifters here !” “ You are mistaken,” he replied, smiling blandly ; “ I called to —” “ Don’t want anything to keep moths away—fly !” she exclaimed, getting red in the face.

“ Is the lady in V’ he inquired,, try-, ing to look over Sarah’s head. “Yes, the lady’s in, and I’m in, and you’re out!” she snapped, “ and now I don’t want to stand here talking to a fly-trap agent any longer ! Come, lift your boots!”

‘•lam not an agent,” he said, trying to smile, “I am the new—”

Yes, I know you ; you’re the ?uew man with the patent flat-iron ; bub we don’t want any, and you’d bettea* gQ before I call the dog !”

“ Win J ou g iv e the lady my car d, and say that I called ?” '

“ No, I won’t; we’re bored, to death with cards, and handbills, an a circulars. Come, I can’t stand here rjj day.”

“ Didn’t ye» know that I was a minister ?” he asked, as he backed off. “ No, nor I don’t know it now : you look like the man who sold the woman next door a dollar chromo for eighteen shillings !” “ But here is my card.” “ I don’t care for cards, I tell you ! If you leave that gate open I’ll heave a flower pot at you !” “ I will call again,” he said as he went through the gate. “ It won’t do any good !” she shouted alter him; “we don’t want no prepared food for infants—no piano music, no stuffed birds ! I know the policeman on this beat, and if you come around here again he’ll soon find whether you are a confidence man or a vagrant!”

And she took unusual care to lock the door.