Democratic Sentinel, Volume 7, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 June 1883 — Freaks of Forgetfuiness. [ARTICLE]

Freaks of Forgetfuiness.

Of all the ills to which flesh is heir, forgetfulness is the one that furnishes the greatest number of laughable episodes; and, while many of them are very annoying, the mirthful feature that is their almost invariable companion affords a certain degree of compensation. Near one of our Atlantic seaports there resides an old whaling Captain commonly known as Uncle Gurdon. To keep from getting rusty, he made his home on the river bank, where he could keep a boat, and fish or paddle about as he liked. The place was about five miles from the city, and, as- occasion required, Uncle Gurdon and his wife would journey townward for the purr pose of shopping. Reaching the city, the horse and wagon would be left at the water-trough on the Paiade, and each would go in different directions, carrying their bundles to this common receptacle, the first through waiting for the other. On one of these shopping excursions Uncle Gurdon made several trips to the wagon, finding each time that additions had been made, to the store of bundles—a sign that his wife was busy. Having completed his purchases, he unhitched his horse, and, the ferryboat having arrived, climbed into the wagen and drove on board. While crossing the river one of his acquaintances stepped up and asked how he was getting on. “Well, I’m getting on nicely, but Pm bothered just now. ” “Why, is anything going wrong?” “No, nothing special; but I came down to do some shopping, and I’ve forgotten a parcel I was to get,” and the old gentleman scratched his head in a perplexed manner. “Well, I wouldn’t worry. You will think of it next time,” said the neighbor; and the boat having reached the landing, Uncle Gurdon drove ashore, and went on toward home. When nearly half way there he was met by another friend, who stopped to have a chat. “How do you do to-day, Uncle' Curdon ?” he asked. “Oh, nicely, nicely; though Fm a bit worried just now.” “Worried?what about?”

“Well, yon see, I’ve been to town shopping, and there’s a parcel of some kind that I’ve forgotten. I can’t think what it is, and it bothers me. ” “Oh, never mind it. You will recollect what it is before you go again. By the way, Uncle Gurdon, how is your wife?” “Jerusalem!” said Uncle Gurdon, slapping/ his knee with great energy. “It’s my wife that I’ve forgotten 1 She went to town with me to do some shopping, and I was to wait for her.” And Uncle Gurdon turned around, and went back to the feriy for the parcel that he had left behind.— Editor’s Drawer, in Harper’s Magazine.