Rensselaer Gazette, Volume 3, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 August 1859 — A Hatter in Search of Fur. [ARTICLE]

A Hatter in Search of Fur.

On one occasion, a hatter named Dibble called to buy some furs of us. For certain reasons I was anxious to play a joke upon him. 1 sold him several kinds of fur», including“beaver”and“coney.” He wanted some “Russia”. I told him we had none, but Mrs. Wheeler, where I boarded had several hundred pounds. “What on earth is a woman doing with “Russia!” he said. I could not answer, but assured him that there were one hundred and thirty pounds of old Rushia and one hundred and fifty pounds of young Rushia but whether it was for sale I could not say. Off he started, with the view to make the purchase. He knocked at the door. Mrs. Wheeler asked him to walk in and be seated. She, the elder made her appearance. “I want to get your Russia,” said the hatter. Mrs. Wheeler asked him to walk in and be seated. She, of course, supposed he had come after her daughter “Rushia.” “What do you want of Rushia!” asked the old lady. “To make hats,” was the reply. “To trim hats, I suppose you mean,” responded Mrs. Wheeler. “No, for the outside of hats,” replied the hatter. “Well, I don’t know much about hats, but I will call my daughter,” said the old lady. Passing into another room, where “Rushia,” the younger, was at work, she informed her that a man wanted her to make hats. “Oh! he means sister Mary, probably; I suppose he wants some ladies’ hats,” replied Rushia, and she passed into the parlor. “1 suppose you want to see my sister Mary; she is our milliner,” said the younger Rushia. ‘‘l wish to see whoever owns the property,” said the hatter. Sister Mary was sent for, and soon made her appearance. As soon as she was introduced, the hatter informed her that he wished to buy Russia,” “Buy Rushia!” exclaimed Mary, in surprise. “I don’t understand you.” “Your name is Miss Wheeler, I believe,” said the hatter, who was annoyed at the difficulty he met with in being understood. “It is sir.” “Ah! very well. Is there old and young Russia in the house!” “I believe there is,” said Mary, surprised at the familiar manner in which he spoke of her mother and sister, both of whom were present. “What is the price of old Russia per pound!” asked the hatter. “I believe, sir, that old Rushia is not for sale,” replied Mary indignantly. “Well what do you ask for young Russia?’* pursued the hatter. “Sir,” said Miss Rushia, the younger, springing to her feet, ‘‘do you come here to insult defenceless females! If you do, we will soon call our brother, who is in the garden, and he will punish you as you deserve." “Ladies!” exclaimed the hatter, in astonishment, “What on earth have I done to offend you! I came here to buy some Russia. I was told you bad old and young Russia in the house. Indeed, this young lady just stated such to be the fact, but she says the old Russia is not for sale. Now, if I can buy the young Russia, I want to do so; but if that can’t be done, please say so, and I will trouble you no farther.” “Mother, open the door, and let the gentleman pass out; he is undoubtedly crazy,” said Miss Mary. “By thunder! I believe that I shall be if I remain here long,” exclaimed the hatter, considerably excited. “I wonder if folks never do business in these parts, that you think a man is crazy if he attempts such a thing!” “Business! poor man!” said Mary, soothingly, approaching the door. “I am not a poor man, madam,” replied the hatter “My name is Walter Dibble; I carry on hatting extensively in Danbury; I came to Grassy Plains to buy fur, and have purchased some ‘beaver’ and ‘coney,’ and now, it seems, I am to be callad ‘crazy,’ and a ‘poor man,’ because I want to buy a little ‘Russia,’ to make up an assortment.” The ladies began to open their eyes a little. They saw that Mr. Dibble was quite in earnest, and his explanation threw considerable light no the suject. “Who sent you here!” asked sister Mary. “The clerk at the store opposite,” was the reply. “He is a wicked young fellow for making this trouble,” said the old lady. “He his been doing this for a joke,” she continued. “A joke!” exclaimed Dibble, in surprise. “Have you not got any Russia, then!” “My name is Jerushia, and so is my daughter’s,” said Mrs. Wheeler, “and that, I suppose, is what he ment by telling you about old and young Rushia.” Mr. Dibble bolted through the door,without a word of explanation, and made directly for our store. “You young scamp!”said he, as he entered, “what do you mean by sending me over there to buy Russia!” I did not send you to buy Rushia. I supposed you were either a bachelor or a widower, and wanted to marry Rushia,” I re plied,, wt.ii? a seri.Qiu countenance. ’ 1 “You lie, you dog, and yotl know it,” he replied; “but nbver inind, I’ll pay you off for this some day.” And taking his'furs, hft departed, less ill-hiimored than could be ex--peeled under the circumstances.