Seeing Potts with a gun, and a bleeding woman on the floor, they imagined that murder had been committed, and one of them trotted Potts off to the station-house, while the other remained to investigate things.  Just then the clock struck six.  An explanation ensued from the girl, who only had a few bird-shot in her leg, and the policeman left to bring Potts home.  He arrived at about three in the morning, just as the clock was striking eight.  When the situation was unfolded to him, his first action was to jam the butt of his gun through the clock, whereupon it immediately struck two hundred and forty-three, and then Potts pitched it over the fence.  He has a new clock now, and things are working better.

* * * * *

The Pottses celebrated their “iron wedding” one day last winter, and they invited about one hundred and twenty guests to the wedding.  Of course each person felt compelled to bring a present of some kind; and each one did.  When Mr. and Mrs. Smith came, they handed Potts a pair of flatirons.  When Mr. and Mrs. Jones arrived, they also had a pair of flatirons.  All hands laughed at the coincidence.  And there was even greater merriment when the Browns arrived with two pairs of flatirons.  But when Mr. and Mrs. Robinson came in with another pair of flatirons, the laughter became perfectly convulsive.

There was, however, something less amusing about it when the Thompsons arrived with four flatirons wrapped in brown paper.  And Potts’ face actually looked grave when the three Johnson girls were ushered into the parlor carrying a flatiron apiece.  Each one of the succeeding sixty guests brought flatirons, and there was no break in the continuity until old Mr. Curry arrived from Philadelphia with a cast-iron cow-bell.  Now, Potts has no earthly use for a cow-bell, and at any other time he would have treated such a present with scorn.  But now he was actually grateful to Mr. Curry, and he was about to embrace him, when the Walsinghams came in with the new kind of-double-pointed flatirons with wooden handles.  And all the rest of the guests brought the same articles excepting Mr. Rugby, and he had with him a patent stand for holding flatirons.  Potts got madder and madder every minute, and by the time the company had all arrived he was nearly insane with rage; and he went up to bed, leaving his wife to entertain the guests.  In the morning they counted up the spoils, and found that they had two hundred and thirteen flatirons, one stand and a cow-bell.  And now the Pottses have cut the Smiths and Browns and Johnsons and Thompsons and the rest entirely, for they are convinced that there was a preconcerted design to play a trick upon them.

[Illustration:  A FLAT-IRON WEDDING]

The fact, however, is that the hardware store in the place had an overstock of flatirons and sold them at an absurdly low figure, and Potts’ guests unanimously went for the cheapest thing they could find, as people always do on such occasions.  Potts thinks he will not celebrate his “silver wedding.”