TOPICS OF THE TIMES AS THE CARTOONISTS .SEE THEM.
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Prj LwyPey BUTsrtBDfwn.ffT
From the Sew Tork Telegram.
i
corrETvn,i.E entertains the outlasts. Chicago Trttntm.
iMPn V iO)6Llj)
TVE1TTEN- FOR THE DISPATCH
BY BEATRICE WHITBY.
COl'VEIGHT, ISA BV THE AUIHOIt.
CHAPTER L
The Western wind was wild and dark with
fo.im.
And all alone went she.
AVe are at the sea. Change of air and
scene is absolutely necessary lor the health
of the orthodox IJriton once a year. Our
lather sugested that we bhould spend the
whole summer at home, iu onr lonely house
in Norfolk, where there is nothing on earth
to do but your duty. Of course he talked
of poverty, bad harvests, reduction of rents
lor grumbling fanners, and all those other
philanthropic stinginesses of which we
m omen hear when ue want extra pin money
or extra amusement.
I5ut we are a determined family. Oar
opinions are as firmly established as the
Government; we do not give way. My
lather has four daughters who lead him in
the path which he should tread, the result
being that we are at the present time spend
inc August at the seaside.
Tnere are four of us four Miss Masters.
My eldest sister, Millicent, is considered
handsome; her lace is certainly sweeter
than her disposition, her blue eyes iar
franker than her tongue. She possesses
what the poets call (without poetic license
in her case) a weahh of golden hair; the
curls and coils, the twists and loops were
most expensive, for the color is rare, and,
therefore, dear.
1 rank next in age to Millicent. I am 19;
no one admires mc so fara&Iknow. Though
my nose is sharp, my chin undeveloped,
mv hair auburn, my teeth aggressive, my
range of ision augumented by the use of
eye-glasses, and my temper uncertain, yet I
have a pretty wit which I love to exercise
on my neighbors.
My parents, as wouldbe divined by an in
telligent reader, have som; originality of
mind, though their ideas run much over
much in one groove.
Having called their eldest-born Mil
licent, they named me, their .second daugh
ter, Milderd, their third Muriel and, un
able to shake oft the lascination of the if
they grafted a French name upon onr Eng
lish stock, end called the baby Melanie.
We are an agreeably-sounding quartet,
full of euphony and' alliteration. The
Misses Millicent, Mildred, Muriel and
Melanin Masters roll sonorously off the
tongue; surnames are a melody of maiden
hood. Hut, as 'Whose-his-name savs:
'Things are not what they seem," we
have very little that is harmonious and
melodious in our dispositions. We quarrel,
we jar and dispute among ourselves. How
ever, e unanimously allow tha: a woman
who has no temper has no character, and
uliat woman, nowadays, could endure to be
characterless." J'erhapi our surname has
some subtle influence upon us. "We are
enrh one of us Masters at preicnt.
Millicent is to change her name in the
autumn. The wedding is fixed for October,
but as her quarrels nith her betrothed,
Maur.ce Mitchell, nre incessant and some
time exceedingly violent, the engagement
!s mi unusually precarious one. If Maurice
had had the iint of a Masters, he would
hate thrown her over week and weeks ago.
I tnld him so, but hr said he iaia man who
would
"Sell poorhllM
for pnniil deapali."
if he ihliilt all that tort of thing about
Millicent he must be mad, and it' is no use
nrsuing with a lunatic
I am not engaged nobody has chosen me
but I have a partiality, a mere mild par
tiality lor Mr. Close, our agent. The girls
don't care for him; be is in appearance like
my Scotch terrier, with a reddish face,
smothered in rough, sandy hair and ruddy
beard, but not nearly so likely a companion,
for he does not follow me about like ray dog
in fact, he does not follow me at all and
he is very quiet and reserved. However,
he is coming down here with my father this
t afternoon: he shall take me out sea fishing
wnen becomes; the girls are not good sailors,
and it is dull to go alone. Maurice will be
here by that time, and two more young men
from the barracks who are coming partly lor
the tennis tournament, and partly to make
love to Muriel, who is a most abominable
coquette.
Our lodgings are dn the cliff, close to the
sea. A zigzag path leads down upon the
rocks. Our rooms are very dear and very
dirty. They get dirtier every day; seaside
lodgings are irritating. The bedroom which
I share with Millicent smells of shrimps
and mildew. Our chest of drawers wobbles
and the wood has warped. That chest of
drawers is a sermon on tact and a lesson in
patience. You must maneuver and coax
this sort of furniture. Once grow annoyed
and you are lost; for when the drawers
come out with a run they come out wholly
and stay out.
Our dusty water jus holds a meager pint
of water; the basin is shallow; the towels
arc fibrous and small; the bath is a Irving
pan; the window rattles all night long; the
bed is not filled with potatoes, as I was led
to fancy, bnt scantily stuffed with hay and
flock.
Millicent and I have stormy times there
together, very stormy times, if the looking
glass is only half a foot square and cloudy
there is no reason why she should monopo
lize L
There is wind enough to-day to blow your
neau on, as wen as your nat.
"If tempo s are surly
ith netting nn o:n n-
And tempers arc short in the morning,"
It is no wonder that n spirited familv should
have a difference of opinion. We have had
more than differences of opinion; we have
had a domestic riot, with a" violent conclu
sion. It happened m thi3 wise:
The sea was rough; so rough, indeed, that
the bathing woman herself, to the loss of
her daily bread, advised us to forego our in
tended bath; bat we had not risen at 7
o'clock iu the morning lor nothing. We do
not, care for advice, ncr do c shrink from
danzer; we arc courageous.
Still, as we stood in the break of the
waves, holding on to our ropes for dear life
and trying to preserve our looting, when we
were buffeted and beaten, when the breakers
dashed spray into our laces, when onr feet
were cut as the force of the water drew the
shingle from beneath them, when the cold
wiud whittled in our ears, I don't know
which or us enjoyed herself, but I own that
I did not.
My sister Melanie I thin and iragllo; ihe
likrt lo be thought delicate as a matter of
fact, she is not robust so when a great
ware came rolling In llkn rr,rn mountain.
aud, leaning over her head, dealt her a blow
on the chest which rolled her down anions
ihs pebbles, she thought her last hour had
come, Ai soon at her lutd was out of lb
FEEUSC RATHEK LONESOME.
"Well, oldfellow, you look as if you'd lest your last friend."
"I have. The last one of 'em has jnst been nominated for an office." Chicago Kew
i h
THE SPECTACLE OP "CALICO"
GRESIIAM IS ONE OF TIIE MANY
PAIGN. St Louis Republic
water she shrieked, let go her rope, and
throwing up her arms, behaved as though
she was making au effort to get drowued.
I cannot swim, but I was near her, bo I
plunged her way, and, gripping her by the
hair, I tugged herto her feet. As she was
too trightened to stand firmly the next in
coming wave knocked her down for the sec
ond time. She dragged me over, too. and
and as I was screaming at her when I fell,
I swallowed a quart ofsalt water and a peck
of sand.
Melanie's long, lean arm clutched me
round the neck like a vise. Handicapped
thus I could not regain my footing. The re
treating wave sucked the shingle from be
neath us we were drawn out. Melanie's
panic was infectious, my shrieks joined hers,
and were only silenced by a dashing column
of water, wfiich broke upon u', and then
lifting us on its breast, as though we were
globules instead of women, rushed off with
us inland. This time I clung to Melanie's
plaits and struggled violently.
Well, we were not drowned, but we were
washed beneath the wheels of the bathing
machine, from whence the bathing-woman
extricated us more dead than alive. As
soon as I could speak I attacked Melanie,
who lay on the shingle, gasping and deadly
pale.
"It was all your fault," I sputtered, my
teeth chattering. "You lost yur e'l as
well as your footing. Just like" you."
Her lips were blue, and she could hardly
articulate, but a Masters is only silent in
the grave..
"VVhy did you pull my hair?" she re
torted raising herself upon her elbow.
"What made you tug like that? The pain
made me scream. There was no danger." -
"No danger, of course," I snapped; "no
danger for fishes at the bottom of the sea,
and so no danger for oysters and the other
idiots."
"Now, now, young ladies," said the
bathing woman, "don't you stay catching
your death of cold to argufy. There is a
long day when you are dry and in your
clothes to spend in argufying."
She had reason on her side. We drie 1
aud dressed and argued, too. Mv sisters
sided with Melanie, and pitied her pale
face. No one considered the gallon of salt
water which she had compelled me to swal
low. Injustice ot anv sort annoys me
righteously aud violently annoys me. Our
argument lasted through the breakfast
hour, at the end of uhich I lost all that re
mained to me of my temper, and, after
throwing the tea cosy at Muriel, I broke
ont ot the room in a passion, aud flew up,
three steps at a time, to our bedroom, turn
ing the key in the lock behind me.
In due course of time Millicent followed
me thither. I knew she would. I lay on
the bed, grinning with malice, not at the
new novel in my hand. ller lover,'
Maurice Mitchell, was momentarily ex
pected. She was to meet him af the sta
tion, and she had neither hat, nor coat, nor
curling tongs. She beseeched. prayed,
cajoled me to unlock the door. I made no
response. I listened to her moans, her
whimpers, her humility, her threats thev
were sweet in ray cars."
"Mill, dear Mill; you cannot be so cruel.
If I do not meet? Maurice he will bemad;
he won't come here; he will go back by the
next train; he has such a temper."
Silence.
"I will never forgive you, Mill."
Still silence.
"Let me in, Mildred. I have only a
moment to spare, you may carry a joiie tco
far." '
I laughed. It was my joke; I should
carry it so far as I could.
"Mill, if you won't let me in, at least
throw mc my coal aud hat from the win
dow." I laughed again.
"Mill, you little beast, I have nothing to
wear."
"Borrow," I suggested, grinning sardon
ically. I as in a position to grin. "If
you aro so fond of Melanie, wear her
clothes."
At this suggestion sho pummeled nn the
door pane viciously for a moment, and then,
it time flew and I was inexorably firm, I
heard her clattering down the stair and
calling to the girls. Presently I had the
satisfaction of seeing her hurry out toward
the station clad In Melinl'e's pilot coat
(which was of no ibapa In particular) with
Murlel'a old gardtn hat flopping in the
wind, on her disheveled hud. My litters
narer lent tbeir beit elethei to aajo&e,
fil
CHAISI.ES TOSTER LAUGHING AT "WALTER Q.
REPUBLICAN COilEDY FEATUT.ES 01' THIS CAM
It was a pity I was too sulky to goto the
tennis tournament; though the' day is wild
and boisterous, vet the courts are so shel
tered by the cliff that the wind will not in
terfere with the plav. I felt a pxmg as I
saw my mother, with Muriel and Melanie,
who both looked very smart and smiling;'
set off in the direction of the ground. I
watch'ed.them out of sight; I saw the wind
blow my mother's bonnet on one side; I
saw it beat about the girls until it loosened
their hair aud generally made away with
their smiles and smartness.
Xpw that I was alone in the house, now
that all my share in the fun was over, now
that nothing awaited me bnt Maurice's
anger and Milliccnt's execration, I felt de
pressed. However, repining is useless, and Mr.
Close would console me. The train by
which he and my father were to arrive was
due. I would go and meet them.
My hair was still damp; I twisted it up
FOR THE SECOND TIME I SAT
into a lump as big as a loaf at the back of
my head; to this lump I attached my sailor
hat with long pins. I put on my rough
serge coat, and thus equipped I set off for
the station. As I turned the corner I met
Mr. Close. Ue was holding on his straw
hat, the wind had divided his beard Into
two portions, and blown it back over his
shoulders.
"Hulloal" I laid; "there you are at latt
Where la father?"
"He went straight to the tennis ground
with your fitter and Mitchell."
"I suppose you ara coming to tee me7"
"Well, I can't eay that, for how was I to
kaow where you were?"
"I want to go out a-aihtni," X uld,
abrupt!,
"'1.1 fl JJ
m.i n -- v s; ; i js as -'
""W Ml -' X
"r :r'S
DEMOCEATIC AMBITION1.
English free trade has destroyed the industries of Ireland. ExcJiange.
, Uemockvcy "I bat I can do the same thing on this side." Chicago IiUcr-Oaaru
'S' Trf " f" r ""t"
AS INALIENABLE RIGnT.
"JIr. Ardbrokc," said the landlady, "yon par up your board bill that's bscn a-run-ning
now for more than six weeks or you leave the house to-niht."
""Madame," cried 3Ir. Ardbroke,"indi?nantly, "madame, do yon know ivhat von are
doing? "Why, this is a terrible outrage, ir I move bsfore election dar I lose my vote
This is worse than bayonets at the polls. How dare you raadamc?" Chicago Xews-P.ecord.
"Do you?" casting a meaning glance at
the sea. "I want to go to the tennis."
"I hate tennisj'llike boating."
"Cut you wouldn't like drowning, would
you?
There is no question of drowning.
Will
you tate me
"Where?''
"Ont in a boat?"
"Certainly not."
"I want logo."
"I see you do."
"I am not allowed fo go alone."
"Of course not."
"And you won't take me? You refuse?"
"I distinctly refuse, Miss Masters."
These smiling rejoinncrs the sort of
superior way.in which he pooh-poohed my
wishes vexed me. I stamped with annoy
ance, and after having said some rude
things in a very rough voice, I turned
away from him and ran off down the zig-zag
path to the beach, making my way to tho
DOWN ON TIIE SEAWEED.
lonely ridge of cliff at the western extrem
ity of the bay.
Never glancing behind me, I clambered
round the corner of tho rocks. Out ot sight
of Scacombe and its revolting inhabitants, I
seated myself upon a bed of seaweed and
wiped my eyes. Girls of character weep
angry tears occasionally and justifiably.
Everything a Master does it justifiable.
CHAPTER IL
"and noma liuvo left me.
And some aro taken front me; all aro de
partod." In the heat of my fotllngi I had gone
further from fieaeombe than I had intended
to do, but it wai a comfort to bt 10 faraway I
s
.- Vi a-
-. 6cwrv c
&
'"TRiBS
from the world I hated, and to have no wit
ness to my weakness.
Imagine my exasperation when Mr. Close
rounded the corner of the rock on which I
was perched. I jumped up; af I did so my
eveglasses swurg round, the, jerk severed
the elastic to which they Were hutfg; they
fell on the ground at my feet, and were
broken into fragments this loss was a seri
ous one.
' The wind and waves thundered and
clashed all round: Mr. Close shouted at me
thro' the din:
"Why on earth have you cXme here?"
"For'a walk."
"You must be mad. Yon can see the
danger-board behind you. Yon know that
people have been drowned here before now.
Foolhardiness is, not pluck."
I asked him defiantly what interest he
had in my concerns.
"My friendship for your father," he re
turned, as though he -would have implied:
"No other, I assure you."
"Then vour duty to my father is done;
don t waste anv more time on me. Go back
to the tenuis; I'm going on."
My remark, no doub:, was partly smoth
ered by the storm. Turning my 'back on
Mr. Close, with my face set westward, I
continued to clamber over the rocks in the
direction contrary to that " of Seacombe. I
was fairly sure" of foot, and I walked
rapidly not looking back, until I had
reached the point of tlie cliff, and rounded
the rugged and perpendicular peninsnla.
I had thought that Mr. Close was follow
ing me; however, when I glanced behind
me I found my mistake He was not in
sight. I was alone alone, nnd a little
inghtened. I could in anser Wave death
when I hoped to punish mankind in
general by doing so; in cold blood, where
none bnt a seagull was witnes to my daring,
such pluci; as I have possessed cozed out
from mv finger tips.
I looked out to sta; sullen waves, noun
tain hiL'h, and crested with foam, came tear
ins in upon tlfc broken crars. breakinewith
J a crash like artillery upon tho roekr. I
was Diinu witnout my giasses, when a
shower of spray fell upon my upturned face,
deluging me from head to foot, a panic
seized me and I hurriedly turned, intending
to retrace my steps, in doing so my foot
slipped; no doubt my dim eyes, my sudden
fear, my haste combined in making me un
steady of gait. On the slimy seaweed I
tottered, tried to save myself by catching at
the jagced splinters of rock and failed.
I fell, fell on my side, and rolling over
the edge of the rock upon which I hid been
standing, alighted a dozen feet below upon
a ridge of rock which lay uncomfortably
near to the angry and ircociing sea.
Just for a moment I lay there, where I
fell, half-stunned and breathless; the pain,
the agonizing shoots of pain in my left arm
turned mo sick. But the instinct of life
preservation roused me. I struggled to my
leet and began though every movement
increased the pain 1 suffered to clamber
up the rock out of reach ot the waves.
My injured arm hung likt- a lo?, t:scless
and maimed, by my side. My skins, intu
rated with uatcr, clung close and heavy to
my limb".
The rock which I endeavored fo scale
slanted somewhat; its surface was broken.
Under other circumstances I could have
clambered to the top in a moment. Now,
with clouded eyes, swimming head, tremb
ling limbs, my progress uas slow indeed.
It I could not retrace my steps more swiftly
than this, hqw in the name ot heaven should
I reach aud cross the gulleys bclore the sea,
by its advance, cut oft the possibility of re
treat! My courage had been fainting; it now
expired. I gave vent to shrieks for help
shrieks so shrill aud piercing that thry rose
abqve the noise of the storm, and brought
the aid for which I clamored to my side. "
Mr. Close, hardly less agitated than I was
myself, stood beside me.
'"Look at mv arm," I veiled, "it hangs
like that; It hurts me fearfully. Why did
you go away? If you had si ived here it
would not hae happenad. You had no
right to leave me."
There was no violent coinpasion, tender
stuipathy, nothing to soothe my feelings
about Mr. Cloic. There was no apprnral,
nothing like It iu his cycr. Ho nnnted
neither words nor time, but ii cling my arm
and muttering that It uas, in truth, broken,
he bound It, both above and holnw ilia Irao
ture witn our teverai haudKerebleii, to bli
walking atlck.
,,. ,. r -iriy mmmmv.
Mimr'''u
lUrPfUfci
THE CHICAGO WORLD'S FAIR MANAGERS
INVlTATlojr.
her oslt
Oh! yancy rirtnlr, yonr plnrdy shanks
Hiito lost tht-lraloiy no!
For Johnson's wheel lia" jiaEed yonr heel.
And led your nose, I trjw:
ii. .mili"'JIJ,af'il " ?'-"" "' ".aq
! rtiirinir 1'iitr nrrn!rn T At Tint, enrnnm n
loudly as I could have done, but my moans
aud groan3 discomfited him.
"Poor girl," he said, "it hurts badly. I
am clumsy, but there is no time to waste
wa must "be quick. We can't walk two
abreast, there is barely foothold for a gull.
But, if you keep your'head yon are a good
climber. -Yes, yes, I sec the. fall hns upset
you, but summon all your.pluck, there is
not a moment to spare; we must round the
cliff before the sea gets to the point. Come
on."
I did not "come on," I sat fiat down on
the seaweed, and, rockiug myself to and fro,
cried violently.
"This will never do. Come, Mildred."
"I won't come. I daren't move. I am
afraid to stir. You must carry me.
He looked at uie in a kind ot 'breathless
horror.
"Toattempt such a thing would be death
to both of us," h cried. "Carry you along
this slippery clifi? A sheer impossibility!
You are so plucky, Mildred, come, you are
not afraid."
This appeal did not touch me.
"I am atMid. I am awfully afraid, and I
shall not come. You have not got a broken
arm."
"I can't carry you," he said he did not
look angry, only rather white "but, per
haps lean help yon. Stan 1 up."
I did so, then he' took off" his necktie,
which he slipped through my leathern belt
at the back, and holding the ends of this
support in his hand he drove me on ahead
of him. Though I stasgered and tottered,
and though my heafl reeled, yet the firm
ness of his grasp was reassuring and I
clambered on. All the rude and angry
things I said to him in my pain and Icar
may have been drowned in the din of the
storm; at any rate, ke never answered me.
Any man would have shown forbearance
with the owner of a broken arm.
It was a terrible climb in the teeth of the
wind. I do not suppose that Mr. Close was
a coward, but when we reached the jotting
cliff and found that the sea. had submerged
the gulley, in which the breakers seethed
and loareil, he turued white as death and
set his teeth, groaning with as deep a groan
as any which my shattered arm had wrung
from mc.
I began to crv nfreslu
"Look ! look !" I said, "the sea is deep
upon the path, the tide has turned bclore
its time. I know it has. And I can't swim;
no one could swim jn such a sea. We shall
be drowned, we must be drowned; nothing
can save us."
Mr. Close's words were more reassuring
than his face. He said that on his way he had
met two fishermen, who, on hearing whither
he was bound, had warned him of the tide
and of the.danger of the rocks.
"I told them why I went," he said; "no
douht they'll keep a look out for us, and
when wedon't come back they will under
stand." "Understanding is no good," I sobbed,
"they can't save us, no beat could take us
off; "the storm is tearful, and I can't be
hauled tip the cliff with a broken arm; it
would be agony."
A wave, bigger by far than its fellows,
came tearing up the gulley at a gallop,
drer.chiDg',the rock on which we stood.
"We must go back," Mr. Close said,
"this place isn't safe now. We must climb
as fur up the cliff as possible; with luck we
may ba ubie to reach high water mark and
save ourselves without the help of anyone."
For the recond time I sat down on the
seaweed and refused to move; the pain and
terror drove me frantic.
Mr. Close scolded, beseeched, implored,
threatened me. I was immovable. Finally
he resorted to a measure which undid us
buth; he was palo as ashtfs, and his rough
voice grciv tender, n gentleness softened his
shrewd eyes. I held my breath, and stopped
uiv sobs and listened.
''.Mildred," he tld, "yon are a woman.
You must have benrath these childish vagar
ies a woman's hears. It you won't think or
vour lifr, think of mine, which is nut
iihollv mine, lor I have given it away and
come."
I arose slowly to my feel, nnd went a slip
In the direction lie indicated.
My own voice ti nut sweet, It croaked,
lint It was very low. "Given up lllr?
What nontentel Who to?"
"To tome one for whom I mint keep It.MII
drtd. Hhe Uilnkt It it worth ktenluir,"
''Whoiene?,, ,
"WiKlfW, I
mm
WERE TOO BI7ST TO ACCEPT XETVYORK'sl?
JWir York World.
cnxr.es.
r.nt here's a chance for nimble Nance,
The I u turn hnlila in store!
Once In the s-.ri'n. sho'U distance him,
T;to quarter posts or more!
U. B. a. in Puck.
I thought I knew the answer my arm
ceased aching as I listened.
"You do not know her?"
"Don't I, really." '
"No; j Q.iihavd" Eevelrseen her. 8'ie is a
cousin of my on n."
The pain "came throbbing Backinto my
arm, and darted farther, hot and sharp, in
my side. I locked at him. He met my
gaze with a conscious smile, which means
but one thing in the world. The blood came
rushing to my head, turning me dizzy.
"I do not know her?"
"Ves."
'You onlv want her?" '
"Only her."
Again that smile which meant, so much
maddened me. I had halted dead; I felt
him pulling at my belt to indace me to
move on.
'Leave me clone." I cried, struggling to
free myself. "Let me go. How dare you
touch me, I don't want you to save mc I
wonld rather die. Let me go."
As he but held me the closer for my
struggles, I lost all attempt at self-control;
I wrenched i&!ently at his restraining
hand, wrenching myself free.
He made a grasp at my skirt, which I
leaped aside to avoid; for the second timo
that day my foot slipped; for the second
time I fell. But this time there was no
reck beneath; nothing between me and tho
raging sea nothing between the furious
waves and me.
When I straggled painfully back to a
painful existence I foumL myself in an un
known room. Many days passed before I
had strength to feel interest in the past,
present or future. I lay passive, lulled
into quiescence by the narcotics given ms
by the doctor, who haunted my bedside at
this period. But the dreamy indiffereceo
was not to last; gradually my facnlties re
awakened, my powers of suffering and
thought returned. I was considered equal
to hear what must be told me, and so tho
storr was told.
My mother broke the sad part of that tals
slowly and considerately to me. But
whether one is lowered gently into the arm
of sorrow or flung hurriedly thither, pain
wean the same grim aspect face to face.
It seemed that at the same moment aa I
fell into the sea the fishermen of whom I
had heard came in sight. They saw ma
fall saw the great wave which engulfed
mc as I fell, saw Mr. Close spring after me,
saw him grasp me by the hair, saw ns rolled
over nnd over in a surging breaker. Saw m
second wave break upon us and wash us to
their very feet. They caught me by th
skirt and pulled me out upon the reck in
sensible and, so far as they knew, dead.
1 was saved, bnt my comrade, strong aa
he was, could make no headway in that
wild sea. He was dashed again and again
against the crags, so that when tbey found
fits body some time later in a creeK beyond
the bay he was so bruised and hurt, so
torn and battered as to be hardly recogniz
able. This was the storr they broke to me and
to which I listened. It was the kind of
story which goes drumming on in yourears.
always telling, never told. It drags in all
the h'onrs and days of life to swell ita full
ness. I have not finished hearing it, and
my hair is gray. The winds whisper it in
every storm, 'and the birds sing it. It ia
always near, so that I cannot forget.
She has forgotten, that consin of bis. Sh
wore, widow's weeds aud made a great to-do;
and then she married, and is very happy, '
so I hear, and very prosperous.
My sisters, too, aro married. I tee them,,
bnt seldom. They nre no pleosanter
matrons thvi as girls. Jo one has (
wished to marrv me. So I have litfj.
interest me. and mv memory doci tfot i
I live alone, finite alone, save lor mv ser
vant and mv parrot. My neighbors tay 1
that pollr ami I are the most cross-grained
old people in the parish. This may ba
true, lor J know nothing of the people.
Ther don't coitc my way. and I certainly i
don't wish that they shonld.
Ih.tte grown thin, wrinkled and bent.''
In the winter I feel the cold. I have bad t
more to do with tempera than hearts In my
day; and tempers are cold cntnlort on tho
road downward alter all. I wear a faded
necktie around my neck. The color wa
washed out of It rears and years ago; bat It
clings together still. It will last out ray
lime, no doukt. 1 hope It mar, for It la Un
only bit of warmth I reel omctlmt,
Tub Esd.
. f-v
BE
Tta