hr
Bellefonte, Pa., July 26, 1895.
a
SUMMER WISDOM.
The man whose rule it is to take
The weather as it comes,
Without a word of fuss, finds life
A pudding full of plums.
He doesn’t care how high or low
The mercury has got,
And even when its mid Jaly,
He hardly knows it's hot.
But he who when the mercury
Goes up to eighty-five
Makes such a fuss that every one
Regrets that he’s alive,
Thus makes himself unhappier
Than he was meant to be,
And feels the heat at seventy-two
As if 'twere ninety-three.
So take a warning from these lines—
It’s good advice, though free—
And when the hot days really come
Don’t watch the mercury.
J about your daily tasks
egardless of the heat,
And you will find that every day
Your life will grow more sweet.
Somerville Journal.
I ————
A MODERN CINDERELLA.
Deland tured from the shady lane
into the suuny highroad with an ex-
pansive mental comment on the ways
of the semi-developed watering place.
Why should a hotel advertise as such
and then coolly request an expected
guest to renounce his room upon arriv-
al and try his luck elsewhere because
an influential party threatened to leave
if the new arrival’s room were not sur-
rendered to the demands of gout?
Why should the new arrival submit to
bullying ? Because he was more of a
gentleman than the influential party.
Why should the proprietor permit
such things? Because he knew that
there are occasions where it is the part
of wisdom to let the influential party
and the new arrival settle matters be-
tween them ? Why should he not
manage his hotel on a more elevated
plane of justice? Because so long as
people continue to fill his rooms de:
spite protests it was absurd to worry.
Moreover, the proprietor was not whol-
ly to blame. The laiese aller principle
was indigent to the place—and:- 80 was
he.
Deland accepted the inevitable and
took from his pocket the letter from his
- crony, Bob Barnard, summoning him
to this particularly seductive Saturday
night hop.
“I’ve a room engaged for you, but
come prepared for anything from the
eoft side of a billiard table to the best
room in the house!
“They've an odd way here of mix-
ing people and dates, and we may both
be high and dry at the last moment.
It's a feature of the place, which quite
endears itself to you once you're used
to it! If you are willing to hob-nob
with the unexpected, I can at least
promise you a good floor, good music
and good partnere Saturday night and
deep sea fishing Sunday. Yours,
Bos.
Judging from appearances Herbert
Deland was one of the last men on
earth fitted to risk billiard table repose
or put up with the Bohemianisms of a
chance-taker. He was tall, dignified
and athletic. His costumes were the
essence of elegance and their chief in-
dividuality lay in their preserving this
essence under all conditions. Herbert
could have gone through everything
from a Sunday school picnic to a prize
fight and come out with a clean shirt.
He had that morning journeyed in
summer regimentals donned at short
notice from Manchester-by-the-Sea, hy
steam and electricity, through sun and
dust to the threshold of the hotel that
cast him forth, yet dbw at high noon,
from the hatband to the ehoestring,
he looked the picture of all that was
cool, serene and immaculate.
How he did it, as he invariably did,
was a secret he revealed to none. His
deportment matched his costumes.
Never yet had his savoir faire failed
him, even in the most trying circum-
stance. It clung to him as dust to or-
dinary mortals.
He replaced the letter in his pocket
He had arrived to find Bob, not ex-
pecting him so early, off on a forage
for hall decorations, and the influential
party in possession., The proprietor,
button-holing him after the battle,
bathed him in concililations. He
spoke eo rapidly that Bert had a con-
stant expectation that the second word
would get'out ahead of the firat.
“It's too bad, Mr. Deland, I'm
mighty sorry, but it’s no kind of use
arguing with that old gentleman—he’s
like a bear with a sore head. I'll tell
you what to do. You just go over to
the Post cottage : Mre. Post’ll put you
up first rate; feed you well, to; you
won't mind a lot of women, Just go
back down the lane and turn to the
right, and keep right on till you see a
brown house with an apple tree in tbe
front yard, and a seat: Anyone’ll di-
rect you. All right there.” a
He vanished and hence Deland on
the highroad moralizing and keeping a
sharp outlook for apple trees and rus-
tics seats. He recognized his destina-
tion several rods before he reached it
—a demure-looking little house, scant
in piazza, rich in flowers and dignified
by sundry outbuildings, annexes, barns
etc., in the rear. The apple tree stood
in the centre of a lawn or front yard,
where the grase ran riot, and the rus-
tic seat was a very long Sunday school
settee. But whatever the furnishings,
nature's scenic effects were incompar-
able in the noon sparkle of sun, gky,
sea, and the dramatis personae, a man
and a*girl, were stimulating the fore-
ground with a spicy dialogue—their
backs turned to the road.
The girl eat in the centre of the im-
menge settee, the man occupied a part
of the wooden seat which encircled the
tree trunk, Bert had just noted that
the girl's hair was a pretty shade of
brown, and her head artistically set on
her shoulders, when these words tell
on bis ear:
“Well, I am to go into the best shoe
store in town, demand a pair of ladies’
rubbers, and when asked the size ad-
mitmeekly that I don’t know ? They’ll
have me in for lunacy ! What was
the number of the other pair?”
“But I tell you the others were a size
and a half too big, Horace! That's
bog, still, I reckon, it you want to be
sure.l"” The voice was sweet and pitch-
ed low, and the ripple of laughter 1n it
altogether infectious, Deland slackened
his pace as it added :
“Go along now, and don’t tease, or
you'll be late for dinner. I told you
the size once; and I’m sensitive about
its being . known all over the place!”
She bent down.
“You can’t manage that withouta
shoehorn." remarked her companion.
“Here, let me—""
“Yes, I can! Please leave it alone,
Thank you kindly, I don’t need—O
Horace! Horace! that’s too bad of
you.”
he cause of this outburst was the
sudden confiscation of the shoe in ques-
tion by Horace. With a careless “I
lightly vaulted the settee and darted
out of the yard, passing Deland with a
swift glance of covert interest. The
Joie on the bench had ceased abrupt-
y
Deland the Magnificent walked on,
torn by curiosity and chivalrous con-
sideration for the shoeless damsel, btt
evincing no sign of having had eyes or
ears as he entered the place by a gate-
wav, farther down. Here ¢the discov-
ery of an utter absence of a front door
gave him momentary pause.
—
Search was brief, but baffling, He
found three doors, of no reassuring as-
pect, aad concluded - that the main en-
trance must be at the back ; also that
there must be half a dozen windows to
each door. He was conscious, poig-
nantly conscious, that other eyes than
those of the apple tree nymph were
covertly watching his movements,
Passing from view of the lawn, he dis-
covered around a far corner of the pi-
azza, a fourth door, opening into a
cheery, though deserted, little parlor.
Directly opposite was door number one
again, opening upon the inevitable ap-
ple tree, and he was wondering if the
entire establishment had been planned
and erected with a view to eternal vigi-
lance over the apple crop, when his
eye fell upon an excrescence in the cen.
tre panel of the door by which he had
entered. Closer inspection revealed a
likeness to a handle. Advancing bold-
ly, he polled the same, the result be-
ing a sound which put him in momen-
tary expectation of the arrival of the
fire department and police corps. He
was somewhat taken aback to find his
onslaught productive of no results
whatever. Again he waited stoically
much impressed with the guileless
faith 1n human nature exhibited in the
careless abandonment of property
around him. It was Arcadian, truly,
but how long was he to wait? Mean-
while, his best evening trousers, pack-
led with something as near akin to
haste as was possible to Deland, were
slowly crushing in his volise. It had
struck him at the time they would be
none the worse for a little pressing.
This thought stirred him to action.)
“This is absurd,” he told himself,
rising. “I’m not going to hang around
here ail day to be giggled at by those
argus-eyed windows. Neither do I
propose further monkeying with that
alarm clock attachment. Shoe or no
shoe, that girl must help me out of
this.”
He strode forth, and his first glance
towards the tree revealed a change in
the scenery. The girl was leaning back
comfortably absorbed in punching pin
holes in a leaf. One small and ex-
tremely shapely foot and ankle, encas-
ed in a well-fitting russet shoe. peeped
demurely beneath a skirt of some dsin-
ty black and white material, and the
other was propped carefully upon the
wooden tree seat and covered with a
shawl, Deland grasped the situation.
“Pity she couldn’t have added a lini-
ment bottle and a roll of bandage!”
he soliloquized. Wonder how it would
do for me to suggest going- for the doc-
tor.” He advanced determinedly, aod
she raised a pair of soft gray eyes, with
a tint of blue in them.
“Can I do anything for you?’ she
‘said, kindly. “Is there someone you
wish to see ?"
“Thank you. Could you tell me
where I can find the landlady? My
ring was evidently not loud enough,”
he added, deprecatingly.
His face wae a quiet one aud he was
not prepared for the transformation
wrought by the smile he received. It
was as if the sun had suddenly danced
out from a cloud upon a demure lake.
‘It fairly sparkled. Deland forgave the
Blithedale Inn.
“No,” she responded, ‘‘you couldn’t
ring loud enough here. Do you see
that door under the long flight of
steps?”
“1 do.”
“Well, just open it and ask the first
woman you see (there will be several
all come at once) for Mra. Post. I
hope you're not in a hurry, I think
she’s preparing dinner. I could get
her in a second, but—' she paused
here.
“I see,” said Deland, sympathetical-
“I nope it's noteerious. Isit a sprain?
“Much worse, thanks.” she stirred
slightly and her eyebrows contracted.
Then she laughed. “It is better now
vou see, and I keep trying to see if I
can move it. I can wiggle it some-
times.” She surveyed it pityingly.
“How did you do it?’ inquired Le-
land with a solicitude which alone
proved hia histrionic powers.
shame, The inevitable low shoe and
high rock, I suppose ?”’
“It was more shoe than rock, I
reckon,” she answered, shaking her
there's Mra. Post now, coming out of
the barn | (Bert reflected upon the way
the transgressor.) Mrs. Post! Oh,
Mrs. Post! Can you go to the parlor
a moment, right away ?"’ and there be-
why they fell off. They’re up in the |”
must have something to go by!” he’
“IVs a |
head, “I'd no business to have—Oh, !
in which Providence sometimes favors
ing no chance to disregard this hint,
by reason of the approach just here of
four or five women from as many di-
rections, Deland made his acknowl
edgment coupled with best hopes for
the injured foot, and returned to the
parlor, chuckling surreptitiously.
“‘She’ll do!” he muttered. 1 wonder
if that foot will recover in time for the
hop to-night? But why does she say
‘reckon ? ‘‘She’s no more Baltimore
than Boston!” ?
There his meditations were inter-
rupted by the advent of Mrs. Post, a
sweet faced motherly woman, who list-
ened attentively to his tale, and taking
him through dark and devious ways
and up two tortuous tlights of steps,
showed him a clean little attic room
with a pretty straw matting, a cot bed,
a kerosene lamp, and from a skylight
window a sweeping prospect of earth,
heaven and sea which no castled king
ever saw surpaesed from his proudest
casements. Bert, not perhaps un-
mindful of the apple tree nymph, took
prompt possession and then confided tor
her his fears for his valise and his pre-
cious trousers. Did she know of any
Haze where the latter could be press-
ed?
Mrs. Post proved herself fitted by
long experience to cope with the va-
‘garies of summer boarders’ predica-
ments. Hers was a house where, if
the conveniences were few and far
from modern, the luxuries were many
and unexpected. She boasted no bells
nor call boys, but her small grandson
was quite ready to go for the valise,
and as to the trousers, she hesitated,
but hopefully.
“Well, now sir,” she said, “if I was
you, [ wouldn’t take them clear to
town to-day. Of course they might be
done better, but it's Saturday, you see,
and you mightn’t get em back in time
without you waited for ’em goodness
knowns how long. Why don’t you
jest run up here to Mrs. Donald—she's
right round the corner at the top of the
hill in the last house. She's a first-
rate Jaundress when the rheumatism
don’t get her, and I guess she’d press
‘em fine for yer, if ys go right off after
dinner.”
Deland could have embraced ber,
but took the suggestion instead, ‘and
sent for his valise, having unpacked
which he descended a little late for a
well-cooked “home’’ dinner, to which
he did justice quite unmoved by. the
more or less obvious glances and com-
ments of thirty women, three men and
a boy.
Cinderella-up-to-date was nowhere
vigible, but there was a vacant chair
beside the irrepressible Horace, who
Deland decided looked a ‘‘very decent
chap, and not her brother, further-
more |" © \
Presently his quick ear caught the
following undertones : “Down for to-
night, of course. Not from Boston
though, do you think ?"
“I don’t know ; he won’t stay long.
He belongs in Manchester or Newport.
Can’t carry this own valise.” Smoth-
ered giggles.
Deland sent for a second piece of
mince pie. It was not a la Manches-
ter, but it was altogether satisfying.
Presently : :
“It's a perfect shame! Why couldn’t
she have waited a few days? She
oughn’t to dance a step ?”’
“How in the world did she do it,
Horace ?”
“How does a girl usually do it? Al-
ways bet on the shoe, and you're safe.”
“But she hasn’t been near any rocks
to-day!”
“Oh, that doesn’t signify. Sylvia
could break her arm without moving a
firger, if she chose. She studied Del-
sarte, you know.” >
“You're 4 horrid unsympathetic
thing! Delsarte is supposed to keep
you from breaking, if you did but
know.” : . .
“Yes, but she’s says it’s a poor rule
that does not work both ways, Sorry
I can’t enlighten you, but the truth is,
she won't even tell me, thongh she ad-
mits the partial guilt of the shoe!”
Here Horace left the table, meeting
Deland’s eyes as he passed for one try-
fng transient second, and causing that
gentleman to speculate a little as to
the advisability of their being intro-
duced. »
After dinner Deland sought Mrs.
Donald, armed with the cherished
trousers. He strode up the little hill,
threading his way through a ‘wilder-
ness of picturesque babies, flower beds
and kittens, to g dingy little laundry in
the farthest cottage: Mre. Donald
was alone worth the journey—a rosy-
cheeked, bright eyed lively littie wom-
an who called him “dear” at the end
of two minutes, and proved so enter-
taining that he lingered a little to make
friends with the surly black dog, who
by degrees unbent to him. Mrs. Don-
ald did not consider herself no tailor,
she said, but she guessed she could
make them trousers look better'n they
did now, anyway. But she couldn’t
let him have ’em before 5 o'clock, no
way in thie world, and bhe’d have to call
for 'em himself, her daughter’d gone to
town. They parted naturally pleased
with each other, Deland en route for
the Blithedale Inn. :
“On the way he encountered the re
pentant Barnard, who in a rally of self
humiliation, was seeking to invite his
friend to set foot upon his abject neck.
He was scarcely prepared to find De-
| land disposed to treat quite pleasantly
I the base conduct of the influential
| party and the delinquent proprietor.
| “Well,” hesaid in mystified relief.
{ “If you don’t mind, I suppose I needn't
—especjally as you're quite as well off,
| I fancy, at the Post place. If any fel
' low can stand forty-eleven women,thou
art the man! I say—met any of the
' dear girls yet ?"’
“All of them!” replied Herbert
gravely, “and they've all invited me to
‘ call next winter!”
“Nonsense! No, but really some of
them are very good tun, and you want
to get in some work to-night. There's
ove fellow there, Horace Stanton,
from Pennsplvania somewhere, whom
| you must meet. He’s coming to-night
! with seven women, he says. Did you
i see him 2”
“Barnard, you're asking rather too
. much of 8 man who's spent less than
two hours in. a place, half of whieh
[time was given to running the landlady
| to earth and the rest to eating dinner.
!T shall be charmed to meet Horace
and the girl's to-night. Meantime.
what's on for the afternoon? Fine
place, this!”
“The wind’s right for a sail, though
it may not last: Come to the Inn
float. Boat’s all ready now.
gust afternoon Deland stood once more
at the outer screen door of Mrs. Don-
ald’s laundry. He heard her energetic
tones from an upper room break off
summoning tap.
“Are my trousers ready, Mrs. Doa-
ald 2" he called, cheerily. swinging the
door ajar. “I'm afraid—oh—I—beg
your pardon—"
Well he might. Before the ironing
board on two very shapely russet-clad
little feet, ber dainty morning gown
half-covered by a huge kitchen apron,
her sleeves rolled back to the manitest
ly advantageous display of two round
white arms, her cheeks flushed and
her brown hair curled prettily oa neck
and temple by the heat of the room
and labor, stood his Cinderella of the
apple tree.
It was a thrilling moment. As her
eyes beheld the magnificent appara-
tion in the doorway, she started vio
lently and set the iron down hard on
its stand. When Bert's startled se
cord glance told him that tne object
depending from the irghing board was
nothing more or lesz than a leg of his
beloved trousers, he appreciated in full
her presence of mind in “placing” that
iron under stress of circumstances.
But her face was one of crimeoning
dismay and horror.
“Are—are they your trousers ?'’ she
gasped. Her hand tell nerveless to her
side. “Oh, dear me !"’
The almost child-like anguish in her
voice brought Deland’s momentarily
paralyzed savoir faire to its feet. Nev-
er before in his recollection had it de-
serted him (but then, never before had
his trousers been thus ironed) and it
redeemed itself grandly.
“They are mine yes,” he answered
soothingly, as he advanced. ‘How
beautifully you’ve done them !”
This was in itself a master stroke,
considering he did not know whether
they were ruined or not. “But this is
pretty hard work for you such a warm
day, I think. Why they look fine !”
he added fervently, for closer investi-
gation proved his unwarranted gallant.
ry not in vain. .
The distress softened visibly. “They
do look better than they did,” she ad-
mitted, ‘“‘but—"
“Better | A tailor couldn’t have
put them in better shape. Where did
you learn how to press eo well 2" asked
Deland, keeping his attention riveted
to the trousers, for which she blessed
him.
“T have brothers who taught me to
rise to emergencies,” she replied.
“You see,” hesitating slightly, **Mrs.
Donald forgot when she told you she’d
do these that she had promised to fin-
ish my white gown for to-night. (Oh,
80 she was going, but she didn’t know
she had committed herself!) and I
knew she couldn’t do both and not
spoil one, if she hurried. So as I can
press and couldn't fix the gown I
thought I'd help her on these. That's
all. They're done, and,” she folded
them once, deftly, ‘if yon carry them
this way, they won’t be hurt. I can’t
find a paper but Mrs. Donald will. I
must go.”” Her nervousness was re-
turning -and she spoke hurriedly.
“And, please excuse me, but won't
you pay her just the same, you know ?
[t's all right. She'll be down pre-
gently.”
She had flung aside the apron, rolled
dowao. her cuffs and started for the
door.
*‘But, I say—please wait a secord !
You “on’t even let me say thank you.
Can't 1 see you again? ‘You're
surely going to-night, I hope ?"’ cried
Deland, anxiously.
“Yes—I—I don’t tknow—Really I
can’t stop! Mrs. Donald,” she called,
stepping to a side door, “I'll come for
‘that gown or send right after supper.
Good-bye! Never mind.” She turn-
ed again to Bert. “Don’t you see,”
she explained, lowering her voice, but
a little impatiently, “that it I'm here
when she comes down she'll. talk a
week about taking your money, and
that won't be any pleasanter for me
than it is already!” The sudden
flashing little smile which had been
bitten off severely once or twice, now
conquered, though a tiny frown fought
bravely. :
“Well, but can’t I help you home ?
Your foot, you know”
It was abominable in him, he knew,
after what she had just done for him,
but how else could he make her wait ?
Her face became bewildered, but not
for long. “My foot? What's the
matter with—Oh !”” She paused and
recovered. “It’s really very much
better, as you see, I may have to look
on most of the time if I go to-night,
that’s all. But it won't kill me. Oh,
she’s coming !” With a wild skirt
rustle she fled at a pace which reflect.
ed everlasting credit upon weak an-
kles. by
Deland stood a moment like one
i turned to stone till the consciousness
that the Donald was approaching and
he was in for a singlehand struggle
Taking from his pocket some
{ bills he placed one beneath the
| ironstand and left the room, closing the
{ door quickly and noiselessly. Outside
| be abruptly realized that the cause of
! the whole trouble lay yet on the iron-
ing board. At this juncture Mrs,
j Donald's voice and step sounded on
the stairs, She was not moving rapidly
but
It is a pity those who aver that the
abruptly with a “Law sakes I" at hie
i what Mrs. Donald saw when she
At quarter past 5 that golden Au-
' with much enthusiasm a college 'anec-
word haste was barred from Herbert
Deland’s understanding could not have
been in the vicinity of the Donald
laundry that afternoon, Herbert could
vot hurry, but he had played foot-ball
and he could act on time. He re-en-
tered the door and it banged, he re-
emerged from the door and it banged,
and to Mrs. Donald’s ears the second
bang was a swift and loud echo of the
first. Yet in the brief interval
had cleared
prey and reached the nearest corner of
the next cottage.
‘The surly dog barked, the babies
squealed, the kittens scattered, and
ain-
ed her threshold was a hustling maes
in the air, a pair of flying trouser-lags
and then a motionless, open-eyed, ny
mouthed child sitting in the hill path,
gazing in mute inquiry to heaven.
This meant that Bert had not stopped
obstacles, But that baby never knew
what darkened ite sky an io-
stant of an August day in ite early in-
fancy.
“Well! The Lord bless and pre-
serve us !”’ gasped Mrs. Donald.
that’s the kind he is, is it! Chasing
the good-looking girls as if Beelzebub
was after him and jumping skyhigh
over innocent babies with his trouser.
legs in_the air, because he couldn't
wait to have ’em done up decent!
Tech! tch I” Mre. Donald chucked
disapprovingly. “These smooth-spok-
en city fellers do beat all when there's
a girl around ! Might have given me
a chaace to speak!” Then Mrs.
Donald went in and found her athletic
customer’s bill, and dissolved in be-
wildered remorse. :
Meanwhile Herbert, finding his phy-
sical trianing at a discount in racing
with girls handicapped by weak ankles,
had comforted hie soul with his escape
from the Donald, and betakes himself
to his room, where he paused to chuck-
le over his recent adventures and ad-
mire Cinderella’s handiwork. Pre-
gently he heard voices, breathless and
laughing, and light steps on the stairs.
A door on the floor below him closed,
and the words which reached him
sounded so distinctly close that had he
not proved the acoustics of the board
partitioned house before dinaer by
dropping his boots, he would have be-
lieved the speaker to bein the very
room.
“Go and sit still all the evening | At
my time of lite? Never, my dear!
No, I shall sit in solitude and write a
commemoration ode in honor of this
inglorious occasion !"”’
“But Sylvia, you can’t give that
ankle as an excuse after running down
that hill like that.”
“He didn’t see me.”
“But he’s not a fool. He knows
you couldn’t have vanished so quickly
without running.”
“He knows nothing of the sort. He
is supposed to suppose I was behind
the bushes, or—somewhere! No,
Amy I will nob face that man again,
much as I yearn to know if 1 did
scorch those trousers when he caught
me at it. (Bert hastily turned the gar-
ments over and over, but found no
flaw.) I shall give out that my ankle
is suddenly worse—mortification hav-
ing setin this afternoon. I'm sure
that's true if nothing else. What's
the matter with that?’ in a tone of
supreme satisfaction.
Oh, Sylvia, please be serious.!”
“Serious! I like that! I should
say I was the only one who has a right
to be serious—pressing a man’s trous-
ers before he’s even introduced to me !
Amy !” a sudden explosion of mirth,
“] wish you could have been there!
It was a scene for—a—painter | And
he is such a swell! Oh! How do you
snppose he arranged matters with Mrs.
Donald ? Suppose she tells. Lim to
give the money to me ? I'd take it, I
vow I would, and treat all you girls.
Oh, my ! oh, me! I shall die! And
he is so good-looking! Amy, I'vea
plan! I will go to-night Listen!
He can’t ask questions. He's too well-
bred, and I've pressed his trousers for |
him! There’sno need of his ever sus-
pecting I sat under that tree with a
big hole in my—"-
Bang! Crash! The conscience and
endurance of the helpless eavesdropper
had revolted. He had repaid ber ser-
vices by an unmanly allusion to her
ankle, but at least he would take no
fug:her advantage if he could help it.
He snatched off his boot, held it on
high and dropped it, at the same in-
stant striking out from the other shoul
der at an inoffensive chair, which
reeled and fell. A suppressed scream
trom Helen, a giggle, then silence,
then a prompt flow of well-bred, well-
sustained conversation. During the
remainder of his stay in that room,
which he limited to five minutes, he
took care to govern his movements
audibly.
At supper Cinderella Sipested,
making a hasty meal and a light one,
apparently, for Deland heard Horace
ask her if she expected to sustain the
evening eolely upon pilot-biscuit. Her
presence might have surprised Bert
had he not already named ber as one
of whom the unekpected is a close
ally.
When next they met it was in the
pretty Casino, alive and alight with
the stimulus ot a hop in full swing. De-
land had found Barnard did not over-
estimate floor music nor partoers, and
he was in great spirits. But Cinderella
arrived late, and his eye st
quently to the door before quest
was ended, Suffice it toss came,
she saw, she danced with several
times. He decided that b oom at-
tire became even more tha kitchen
apron, that she danced bftffr with a
sprained ankle than other@ without,
and she desired no allusions "to feet or
flat irons. He took his cue.
But at last he inveigled her for some
fresh air to a quiet corner of the piazza
of the main house, and there told her
dote. A pause followed the laugh. Sud-
denlv she turned on him.
Bert |
the laundry seized his |
i801
frankness. ‘Did she take it ?”
“I redlly don’t know. I Jeftit ard
ran.”
“Ran ? Why did you run ?"’
“To escape her protests and catch up
with you !”
“Oh—h ! Well, but Mr. Deland, I'm
awfully afraid she’ll send it back to you
by me ! She never will take it ?”
“All. right—take the girls over to
wn and treat !| Well, then, give it to
"the heathen kids. There are bushels of
them around the Donald cottage ! I saw
them.”
““That’s quite an idea !’’ She reflected
absorbedly. ‘How do they look ?’’ she
inquired presently with interest.
‘Look ? Well—artistic, certainly,
a) not over clean!”
¥ “What ! They were clean when I left
them ! Did you drop them ?” .
“Drop—what ?”
“Why, the trousers !” :
“Ob, I beg
—1I mean the trousers. I wish I could
know of a way to thank you.”
“There is a way !” she announced
darkly.
“I’m very glad. Tell me.”
She faced ¢him, leaning forward im-
pressively. ‘Mr. Deland, can you,
without further question, make me a
promise ?’’
“I can and I do.”
“Good ! That is splendid of you !
Then promise you'll never, while we
live, allude to either the trouser episode
or—my ankle ! You don’t know what
depends on my hushing this up. (Didn't
he ?) It’s asking a great deal, I know,
for it would make an awfully good story
but you mustn’t !”
“Miss Hunt,” said Deland firmly, “set
your mind at rest. The only time I ever
gave a girl away was at my sister's wed-
ding. I must remind you, however, that
Mrs. Donald may prove the undoing of
us both.”
. “Then I shall go home next week ;
that’s all !”’
“Oh, no, you won't ; you promised to
come over to Manchester. Really I
wouldn’t worry. It strikes me it can’t
reflect anything but credit on you. 1
don’t believe one girl in ten could press
like that. And itisn’t as if it happen-
ed in the city or in the winter. It all
goes in thesummer months, you know.”
ay * * * * * *
It was November before Herbert De-
land found himself at liberty to accept
an invitation to a charming country
house not too far from the Quaker City.
Once there, however, he did not readily
forget the way. As the winter advanced
his friends began to comment at times
upon the ease with which some men
contrive to make their business trips lie
in the same direction as their social de-
siries, and upon the growth of Herbert's
Philadelphia interests. As his infinite
equanimity, physical and mental, re-
mained unimpaired, however, and as he
developed no peculiarities of any sort,
conjecture, after a few intermittent
struggles, died of starvation. Its best
meal occurred when Deland confided to
Barnard that Horace, who, it appeared,
lived “‘next door,” was less uniformly
cordial to him than others.
Early in April he received a note
from Cinderella announcing her engage-
ment to Mr. Horase Stanton, and in-
cluding the following extract :
- “Horace sends his kindest regards and
fully forgives you for being the only
man who ever made him jealous. Do
come on soon and see us !”’ =
And Deland, true to his colors, an-
swered by return mail :
“Horace is the : luckiest man in the
United States. Téll him so from moe.
May I now agk the question long hover-
ing on my lips, steadily thwarted by
you: ‘Did those rubbers fit 2’ By S.
Beresford, Phila. Times.
\
Days of Grace.
Business men should take note of the
fact that the last legislature passed a
law abolishing days of grace on promis-
sory notes and drafts, and determining
when such obligations maturing on Sun-
day ‘or legal holidays or half holidays
shall become due. As the new miea-
sure makes a radical change in the law
and hastens the ‘maturity of notes by
three days itis essential that the day
when the act takes effect should be re-
membered. It goes into force January
1, 1896. All notes made before that
| date, irrespective of the time when they
fall due, will be subject to the old rule
as to the days of grace ; but all notes
and drafts and acceptances made, drawn
oraccepted after that date shall be pay-
able without grace unless they contain
an express stipulation that the usual
grace shall be allowed. Drawers of
commercial paper who neglect to pay
notes drawn after January 1st, at the
expiration of the time mentioned there-
in will subject their paper to protest,
afd their credit will suffer, . There was
no. pressing reason for the passage of the
new law. The old rule is absurd, but:
business has been adapted to it, aud it
will take some time to adapt itself to
the new regulation. Ss of the states
have departed from the ancient custom,
and to insure uniformity of practice, it
is highly important that the other states
should abolish it also. Fbe.eonflict of
laws creates unnecessary friction in busi-
ness affairs and the tendency of legisla-
tion throughout the country is towards
uniformity. The same act which abo-
lishes the days of grace also provides
that all notes, drafts and bills of ex-
change drawn after January 1 next
—— fall due on Sunday or legal holi-
daysor any half-holidays shall be deem-
ed to be due on the next secular or busi-
ness day thereafter. No paper shall be
protested on any Saturday, -but must be
protested on the ext secular or business
day. The legisiaturein fixing January
1 as the date when the new law shall
take effect, has given ample notice to
the public and nobody should be caught
napping. All commercial paper after
that date will be saved on every note.
A Feminine Reason.
Oh, but my dear Laura, you realy
ought to see Mrs. Dainty’s !
Is it any nicer than this ? |
N—no. I don’t think it's as pretty.
But ever so much more interesting. She
smuggled it her own self.
-._—_._. ee ——————__
——Genius hears one individual and
“How did you manage with Mrs.
then comprehends ten.
Donald,” she demanded with engaging :
pardon—I was thinking
of the infant heathen ! They look finély""
re