Jasper County Democrat, Volume 11, Number 35, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 October 1908 — HUNTING HIS HOME [ARTICLE]

HUNTING HIS HOME

When Pete kissed his wife goodby In the morning bis little frame houso rested on rollers. The house mover’s gang was hltchlug clanking chains to the heavy square timbers, and tho brown horse, with a dejected droop to his long' head, was ready to clrclo aroiltid the capstan And haul Pete’s cottage Into the street. “Don’t you worry a bit, Mary,” said Pete as he picked up his dinner pall. “The Louse mover told me that not an Inch of plaster would fall. So long. I’ll pick you up six blocks south tonight.” “Sure thing,” replied the house mover to Tete’s inquiry. “This is a dead easy job. You’ll Add your house ic the middle of the street six blocks down there tonight and your wife and kids all O. K.” Pete was an Iron molder, and the foundry where he worked was a good hour’s walk from home. He went to his bench iu a cheerful mood. The elevated railroad company had paid him a good, stiff price for his lot and had offered to move bis house free of expense to him. Pete took the money and- bought a lot cheap in a new street, half a mile nearer the foundry, two blocks from a school and with a church just around the corner. Taking It all in all, Pete considered he had made a good'bargahi. During the day Tete’s thoughts were on the little white cottage, with its clean muslin sash and light green shutters, slowly traveling down the street. He could almost see Mary anxiously noting progress through the windows and the children, wild with the novelty, racing and tearing around. Every molder on the floor knew that Pete’s house was on the move. They discussed the matter while grouped around the cupola waiting for the iron to run. They were full of suggestions, and Tote received the l>enefit of the concentrated advice of fifty sympathetic men. The foreman once had passed through the house moving experience, and as he was the foreman and aa his house was a two story brick his advlee was regarded as weighty and his suggestions treasured as words of great value.

After Pete had filled and emptied his ladle a dozen times and had washed op he started merrily to find his home. When he arrived at the corner where he expected to meet his cottage none appeared. Pete looked north and south through the dusk, but as far as he could see the street was clear. A policeman happened aloug. “Say, officer,” exclaimed Pete, “have you seen a one story white frame cottage go by here today ?” The policeman stared at Pete for a second, then replied gruffly, “What er you glvin’ me?” “That’s straight,” skid Pete, with energy. “They’re moving my house. It ought to be here, but it ain’t.” The policeman grew sympathetic at once. “I’ve seen no house movin’, but there’s some red lights over there two blocks. Mebbe it’s your house.” , Pete hurried for the red lights. It was a house perched on rollers in the middle of the street, but it was uot his house. He clambered over timbers, chains and skids to the front door, for the steps had beeu amputated. A woman with a band lamp answered the knock. “Have you Seen a one story frame cottage, white, with green shutters, and a little woman with brown hair go by this way today?” asked Pete hurriedly. The woman shook her head. “No,” said she. “We’re movin’ too. My man hasn't got home yet either. Maybe lie's huntin’ for me too.” And she giggled hysterically. Pete gave her no comfort, but sprang to the ground. Near the house was a grocery, and there Peter inquired for his house. No one had Sjpen it.

‘Tshnw!” said Pete. “It’s a light house, and those house movers have got It iu on the lot.” He almost ran to the new site and found it vacant. He had spent an hour searching for the white "Cottage and Mary. He had asked fifty persons If they had seen a white one story cottage on a tour, and now he seated himself on the edge of the sidewalk In front of the new lot he had bought and tried to pull himself together. He could uot understand it. He could think of no other path over which the house might travel. Suddenly a new Idea struck him. “The fire department has made them pnll the house into a vacant lot so as not to block the street. I*l* start from the beginning, and 1M don’t find It tonight I’ll sleep in the wood shed. They haven’t moved that anyway. Only Mary will be worried.” In a quarter of an hour he was on the old familiar sidewalk. As he hurried along he closely examined every house on both sides of the street. Absorbed In this, he forgot his whereabouts, and he choked and gulped In surprise when he suddenly looked into the windows of his own white cottage and saw-Mary with her nose flattened against the glass, watching for him. The house had not been moved a foot. "Something broke,” explained Mary, helping Pete to a heaping plateful of liver and bacon, “and the man will be back tomorrow.”