Short Sixes: Stories to be Read While the Candle Burns

d Mrs. John Lang are seated in the Rotunda. Mr. Libriver,

r, with my "Intellectual Life." Thank y

brought me my "Status of Woman

oung man in a linen du

women who are free from the bondage of the no

sation).-Oh, I despise love-stories. In the church? Oh, yes, I heard. (

, do you know, my dear, there

uppose that ridiculous old maid, that Miss Wimple, who seems to be con

w, dear. Only I met Mr. Townsend, and he told me that D

Everybody knows that he proposed to her three time

te agree with you. I should like to know how

ell, if I were

. Dexter

. L

ter. } W

do so hate to be left alone. And poor Rhodora Pennington-Mrs. Boyd, I mean-her funeral is at noon, and our three male protecto

don't think Mr. Lang w

ere is no reaso

ow?-They're all to be pall-beare

ily).-Oh, no,

ero).-I suppose it i

hat your old Surah? W

do dye things so w

house. Mrs. McCullom McIntosh seated, with fancy wor

ect to see you busy men at this time in the afternoon. And how is Laura?-and Millicent? Now don't tell me

-Well, th

ve you? That would be too absurd. They say she's asked a regular party of her old conques

s.-Yes,

ay-at least Mr. Libriver says-that she has

ly).-I d'no. But

too? Oh, that would be too impossible. You don't mean to tell me,

rd of the centre-board on Townsend's boat when I got the mitten. I suppose you couldn't he

cIntosh never could abide that girl. He always said she was horribly bad for

tosh. I hope you won't feel it necessary to

cIntos

of us are asked to be pall-bearers at Mrs. Boyd's funeral, you might ask Mac if it wouldn't be just as well t

d afternoon,

use. Mrs. Sloan inspecting her sheets and pillow-cases. To her, enter Bridget, her

g! (Takes it and opens it.) You may put those linen sheets on the top shelf, Bridget. We'll hardly need them again this Fall

-I did t

guished and prominent citizens of Trega." I'm sure I don't see why they should be. (R

he was foriver

reads).-"Mr.

et.-A

eads).-"Mr De

.-And h

. McIntosh, Mr. William

im. Mr. Smith w

oan.-He

e was eight of thim propos

idget! How can you

twice in th' wake an' thin stops like he was shot. An'

e pillow-cases look shockingly! I never sa

im. Saints bless us! The pore la

. Parker Hall. Mr. Hall writing

.-Ah, the

eck! What brings you ar

ear the names of the fellows Rhodora Penningt

-Poor Rhodora! To

ads list).-"G

Hall

(reads).-"

Hall

eads).-"Dext

all.-

ads).-"McCull

all.-

reads).-"Wi

ll.-Th

(reads).-"

r's ghost! This is g

eads, nervously.)

hoo-o-o-o-u

reads).-"Pa

ng si

ded us up, didn't she? Say, Parker, ca

t's in the e

r long

ly).-Come out and h

ts's stable to buy that pony that Mrs. Sl

d get out of this f

HURCHES O

d Brother Joash. The

HURCHES O

nd sighed deeply. He was a pale, sober, ill-dressed Congregationalist minister of forty-two or three. He had eyes of willow-pattern blue, a large nose, and a large mouth, with a smile of forced am

yards wide, arched with grand Gothic elms, bordered with houses of pale yellow and white, some in the homelike, simple yet dignified colonial style, some with great Doric porticos at the street end. And

one church on Main Street. And, when the new church was half-built, the congregation split on the question of putting a "rain-box" in the new organ. It is quite unnecessary to detail how this quarrel over a handful of peas grew into a church war, with ramifications and interlacements and entanglements and side-issues and under-currents and embroilments of all sorts and conditions. In three years there was a First Congregational Church, in free-stone, solid, substantial, plain, and a Second Congregational Church in granite, something gingerbready, but showy and modish-for there are fashions in architecture as there are in millinery, and we cut our houses this

st of the Second Church got a celebrated tenor from Boston and had a service of song. This system after a time created a class in both churches known as "the floats," i

three years. Finally, being a man of logical and precise mental processes, he called the head

n the parent fold. To do this a master stroke was necessary. They must build a Parish House. All of whic

ven $15,000 for a Parish House, and who might safely be expected to give $1.50, if he were rightly approached. A shade of bitterness crept over Mr. Pursly's professional smile. Then a look of puzzled wonder took pos

ter was nervously shaking ha

u, Mr. Hitt," he stammer

uggested Mr.

t down?" aske

uare under-jaw, and big leathery dew-laps on each side of it that looked as hard as the jaw itself. Brother Joash had been all things in his long life-sea-captain, commission merchant, speculator, slave-dealer eve

ked up and saw that Brother Joas

for you, Mr. Hitt?"

ve you gin'lly git sump'n' over 'n' above y

tt, it-yes-it

w m

orarium is-h'm

e-w

-the

te me one for

r, nervously; "I didn't kno

ied, ez I know. It's m

t, I trust you are no

we don't none of us know when it's goin' to fetch loost. I

y, faintly smiling; "w

him, an' costin' his estate good money, when he's only a poor deef, dumb, blind fool corpse, an' don't get no good of it? Naow, I've be'n to the undertaker's, an' hed my coffin made under my own sooperveesion-good wood, straight grain, no knots-nuthin' fancy, but doorable. I've

," said Mr. P

old man. "Heern some talk abo

. Pursly, his f

er Joash. "Wal, good day." And he walked off

?

study, looking at Brother Joash, who had a s

the Parish House, had been shut up together working over that sermon, and waging a w

r grew pale. This was more than he had expected

" said Bro

en he stopped short. His pulpit voic

" said Bro

re to-day to pay a last trib

a small pistol. Mr. Pursly looked up. Brot

pillar of our church, and a monument of the civic virtues of pro

on of an expression just vanishing from Mr. Hitt's lips awakened in his

see in our midst. The children on the

n of child'n to foller the remains, with flowers or sump'n'

unusual," sai

"only an idee of mine. Thought

ot along without interruption until he reached a casual and guarded allusion to the widows and orphans

Gates-Ajar-ef they do, mind ye!-you'll hev it put a-

ies were unostentatious, as was the whole tenor of his life. In

here, an' say that I wuz the derndest meanest, miserly, penurious, parsimo

Mr. Hitt!" said the

y about me the other day. Didn't know I heern him, but I did.

perspiring at every pore, "to refrain from

Mr. Hitt, with perfect

ance. There were soft inarticulate sounds that seemed to him to come from Brother Joash's dar

d his ten dollars, in one-dollar bills, and took his receipt. But as th

in' 'bout a P

es

keep a

es, certainl

'll be

?

ad carried every stone of that Parish House on my shoulders an

?

ow, when, early one morning, the meagre little charity-boy whose duty it was to black Mr. Hitt's boots every day-it

Hitt'

s gut th' Old Nick's agency for 'Quawket, 'n' I ain't he

here smilin',"

the grocer. "Guess I

cold, with a smile on his hard old lips, the first he had ev

?

h Hitt. Mr. Pursly read with his face immovably set on the line of the clock in the middle of the choir-gallery railing. He did not dare to look down at the sardonic smile in the coffin below him; he did not dare to let his eye wander to the dark left-hand corner of the church, remembering the dark left-hand corner of hi

?

y lay back in his seat with a pleasing yet fatigued consciousness of duty performed and martyrdom achieved. He was exhausted, but humbly happy. As they drove along, he looked with a speculative eye on one or two eligible sites for the Pa

reaking a long silence, "that w

so," replied Mr. Pursly, h

ght handsome, considerin',"

?" inquired Mr. P

n, with a wave of his hand. "You must feel to be reel

voice. "You may not be aware, Mr. Hankinson, that I have Mr. Hitt's promise that we should have a Parish House

arish House," corrected the lawyer, with a chuckle

el

'd his will. Good day, parson, I'll 'li

-LETTERS

tting noise mad

-LETTERS

ny to the height of tenement houses. When the man who owned that seven-story tenement found that he could rent another floor, he found no difficulty in persuading the guardians of our building laws to let him clap another story on the roof, like a cabin on the deck of a ship; and in the sout

y of her looks and ways that I had almost spelled her sempstress, after the fashion of our grandmothers. She

, she had to climb seven flights of tenement-house stairs. She was too tired, both in body and in mind, to cook the two little chops she had brought home. She would sav

as high above all the other buildings, and she could look across some low roofs opposite, and see the further end of Tompkins Square, with its sparse Spring green showing faintly through the dusk. The eternal roar of the city floated up to her and vaguely troubled h

ll slights that she had to bear from people better fed than bred. She thought of the sweet green fields that she rarely saw nowadays. She thought of the long journey forth and back that must begin and end her morrow's work, and she wondered if her employer

d uncertain manner toward her flower-pots. Looking closer, she saw that it was a pewter beer-mug, which somebody in the next apartment was

rt

use the l

in

at was all. He probably would not annoy her further. And if he did, she had only to retreat to Mrs. Mulvaney's apartment in the rear, and Mr. Mulvaney, who was a highly respectable man and worked in a boiler-shop, would protect her. So, being a poor woman who had already had occasion to excuse-and refuse-two

ound again, and she sat once more by her window. Then she smiled at the remembrance. "Poor fellow," she said in her charitable heart, "I've no

ter pot was in front of her, and the two-foot rule was slowly

rt

or the

akes

that she would go down to see the janitor at once. Then she remembered the seven flights of stairs; and she resolved to see

anitor. She hated to make trouble-and the janitor might think-and-and-well, if t

settle the matter. And she had not sat there long, rocking in the creaking little rocking-chair which she h

e the le

ou are af

ess

ot tha

cry. But she felt that the time had come for speech. She

put your head out of the wind

w back, blushing. But before she could nerve herself for another

Say a

ne

Sed i w

s you

ll

embered the last time-and the first-that she had drunk porter. It was at home, when she was a young girl, after she had had the diphtheria. She remembered how good it was, and how it had given her back her strength. And without one thought of what she was doing, she

ived the next night, be

e afra

k it

er the earth around her largest geranium. She poured the contents out to the last drop, and then

it! And you're just as nasty and hard-hea

orry," she thought. And, really, she might have spoken kindly to the poor man, and told him t

her window on Saturday night. And then she looked at the cornice,

orbearance was too much for her kindly spi

s good f

tter f

h were not half so red as her cheeks, an

first plunge, and presently she was surprise

a bit of white paper. She untwisted the paper and smoothed it ou

an

ying the warm glow of the porter, which seemed to have permeated her entire being with a heat that was not at all like the unpleasant and oppr

roing

m

s

of communications. But this simple and homely phrase touched her country heart. What did "groing weather" matter to the toilers in this waste of brick and mortar? This stranger

i

ot know. At last in desperation she put down potatos. The

t for p

r's pronunciation of "moist," she laughed softly to herself. A man whose mind, at such a time, was se

to New York, but I am afraid I do not k

nswer

most Ev

a Spel

m

seamstress heard a chu

dow. But a few minutes later, passing by, she saw yet another bit of paper on the cornice, fluttering in the evening

?

ories, and Mr. Smith's was one of travel and variety, which he seemed to consider quite a matter of course. He had followed the sea, he had farmed, he had been a logger and a hunter in the Maine woods. Now he was foreman of an East River lumber yard, and he was prospering. In

l give an idea of

trip to

a

he seamstr

e been very

posed of this sub

w

he vou

hong kong could cook fl

lls Rum is the men

ot what it is

are wussen

t my Father

not refrain from making an attempt to reform Mr. Smith's

re in Maine

wr

enerally s

the attempt wh

ne animle any

to sleep each night, giving her a calmer rest than she had ever known during her stay in the noisy city; and it began, moreover, to make a little "meet" for her. And then the thought that she wa

e clink of his mug as he set it down on the cornice, told her that a living, material Smith was her correspondent. They never met on the stairs, for their hours of coming and going did not coincide. Once or twice they passed each other in the st

t-scattered the gang like chaff, and, collaring two of the human hyenas, kicked them, with deliberate, ponderous, alternate kicks, until they writhed in ineffable agony. When he let them crawl away, she turned to him and thanked him

tchy!" h

an stood

red Mr. Smith, looking him in the eye. And

w, hid from sight of all the world below by the friendly cornice. And they looked out over

daisies or black-eyed Susans or, later, asters or golden-rod for the little seamstress. Someti

nd a dried flying-fish, that was somewhat fearful to look upon, with its sword-like fins and i

ery much one cool September evening, whe

he last century Mr. Smith had found his form. Perhaps she was amazed at the results of his first attempt at punctu

own nervous, for presently another communication came along t

rstood will

ess seized a piece

s, will you

ut to him, leaning out of the

'S INFI

been like my own child

A'S IN

h himself and with everything else-with his growing practice, with his comfortable boarding-house, with his own good-looks, with his neat attire, and with the world in general. He could not but be content with Sagawaug, for there never was a pre

ses. Not even a pair of round bare arms was visible among the clothes that w

n a yell startled him. A freckled boy wi

k! The circus got a-fire an' th

ohnny," said the D

east!" said the boy. The Doctor knew

nd if I find you're trying to be f

e outskirts of the town

with Dan'l in the Lion's Den onto the outside of it, an' he took in a candle an' left it there, and fust thing the barrel busted, an' he wasn't hurte

ad shoulder charred and quivering. Her bulk expanded and contracted with spasms of agony, and from time to time she uttered a moaning sound. On her head was a structure of red cloth, about the size of a bushel-basket, apparently intended to look like a British s

a large man with a dyed moustache, a wrinkled face, and hair

nt like Zenobia. And them lynes and Dan'l was painted in new before I took the road this

ed the keeper, "or my own wife, I may say. I've slep'

en carefully exam

any analogy

nt showman; "'t ain't neuralogy,

between her case and that of a human being, I think I can save your e

octored an elephant, and the job interested him. At the end of an hour, Zenobia's sufferings were somewhat al

ctor-"good gracious, what's that?" Zenobia

er keeper explained. "She's a lady, sh

thing of the sort," sai

ia's tent neatly roped in, an amphitheatre of circus-benches co

the showman relieved his mind to a casual acquaintance. "He's got a heart like a gun-flint, that doctor," he s

lephant. Once in a while, as a rare treat, the keeper lifted a corner of her bandages, and revealed the seared flesh. The show went off in a day or two, leaving Zenobia

in neighboring towns. Women in robust health imagined ailments, so as to send for him and ask him shuddering questions about "that wretched animal." The trustees of the orphan-asylum made hi

with him, and her keeper had to sit on her head and hold her trunk to repress the familiarity. In two weeks she was

ad got his f

?

e house with the garden running down to the river. He had found her starting out for a drive in Tom Matson's dog-cart. Now, the Doctor feared no foe, in medicine or in love; but when a young woman is inscrutable as to the state of

cadamized road. His gentle little mare heard it, though, and began to curvet and prance. The Doctor was

?sar! ge

nd the cold sweat stood out on him as he saw Zenobia, her chain dragging from her hind-foot, her red cap a-cock on her head, trotting along

ahead of her, he could toll her around the block and back toward her tent. He had hardly guessed, as yet, the depth of the impression which he

that permitted it, Mrs. Burgee was in the habit of sitting at her window when the Doctor made his rounds, and indicating the satisfactory state of her health by a bow and a smile.

antipathy ran over his frame. In a few minutes the keeper hove in sight. Zenobia saw him first, blew a shrill blast on her trumpet, close to the Doctor's ear, bolted through a snake

way from him? You ain't got no more morals than a Turk, you ain't. That elephant

lephant," roared the Doctor; "w

u two lally-gaggin' all along the road. I knowed you wa'n't no good the fir

to banish "analogy"

?

e mist-hid fields by the roadside. He jumped out of bed and went to the window. Below him, completely covering Mrs. Pennypepper's nasturtium bed, her prehensile trunk ravaging the early chrysanthemums, stood Zenob

eople began to get up, and to detain her in some remote meadow until he could get her keeper to come for her and secure her by force or stratagem. He set off by the least frequented streets, and h

re of rage than of amazement in his wrinkled countenance. The Deacon was carrying a

led him, with as much ease of manner a

hing further concernin' her health, you ask Dr. Pettengill. He's got more sense than to go trailin' around

ied the Doctor, "

ernly; "and it's God's own mercy that

?

farmer or market-gardener should pass by, to carry his message to the keeper. He had another message to send, too. He had several cases that must be attend

head. She was unmistakably happy. From time to time she trumpeted cheerily. She plucked up tufts of grass, and offered them to the Doctor. He refused them, and she ate them herself. Once he took a daisy from her, absent-mindedly, and she was so

ast two boys appeared. After they had stared at him and at Zenobia for half-an-hour, one of them agreed to produce Dr. Pettengill and Ze

nts. Want me to take your cases? Guess I can. Got a half-hour f

ence, and every time she flicked her skin to shake off the flies she endangered the equilibrium of the Doctor, who was sitti

matter with salicylate of cinchonidia? Don't want t

e man; but at this moment he

art from under him-he was going-going into space for a brief moment, and then he scrambled up out of the sof

a lifted her trunk in the air, emitted a mirthful toot, and struck out fo

which had broken loose in his fall; "if the boys was here, and I hollered 'Hey Ru

ight of a firm resolve illuminating his face. The literature of his childhood had come to his aid. He remembere

gratitude," thought the Docto

pulled out a blank pad and wrote down a presc

oked at it, he was t

?" he asked-

e druggist's steps, looking up and down the street. He had sent a boy to order the

"that are kind o' tired, and half a poun

grimly, as he saw Zenobia comin

bolus. Twenty-three boys were watching them, al

trunk. Zenobia sank to her knees. The Doctor did not notice her. She folded her trunk about him, lifted him to her back, rose, with a heave and a sway, to h

Zenobia trotting contentedly behind him. As soon as he had passed Deacon Burgee's house,

ill!" said

th at the word of command, and swallowed the infernal bolus. Then

rojection, and held it back. This damaged the buggy and frightened the horse; but it accomplished Zenobia's end. It was eleven o'clock before Jake Bumgardner's "Half-Way-Hou

rd Zenobia behind him, for some time. He did not know what ha

She gasped and groaned. She searched for water. She filled her trunk at a wayside trough and poured the contents into her mouth. Then she sucked up a puddle or two. Then she came to Bumgardner's, where a dozen kegs of lager-beer and a keg of what passed at Bumgardner's for gin stood on the sidewalk. Zeno

uirted lager-beer over him until he was covered with an iridescent lather of foam from

?

thumping on the road behind him, and the quick patter of a trotter's hoofs on the road ahead of him. He glanced behind him first, and saw Zenobia. She swayed from side to s

thdrew courteously before the might of beer and gin. Rocking from side to side, reelin

nnying in terror. Before Tom could pull him down, he made a sudden break, overturned the dog-cart, and flung Tom and Miss Minetta Bunker on a bank by the side of the r

nd looked at him wi

oud; "I'd like Moth

up the road. He had his arm about Miss Minetta's waist when he turned to f

red like a reed in the wind; her legs weakened under her, and she sank on her side. Her red cap had slipped down, and she picked it up with her

?

rse had been stopped at the toll-gate. He was driving with one hand. Perhaps he needed the

?

jabbed a cotton-hook firmly and decisively into her ear, and led her homeward d

NE CEN

y feeling that t

NE CEN

rs, the flower of the younger sons of the best society of New York, Boston, and Philadelphia. Thirty-seven notches in the long handle of her parasol told the story of her three months' stay. The

?

s foreman, who was also his confidant, his best friend and his old college mate. Mr. Richard Cutter stood with his back to the fire, twirled a very blonde moustache and smoked cigarettes continuall

uess I'll have to. I've been ten years in this girlless wilderness, and I never did know any girls to speak of, at home. No

front yard. All the fellows strike for New York as soon as they begin to shave. The crop of girls remains, and they wither on the stem. Why, one Winter the

, "I'd like to live in Tu

dull. But the girls were nice. No

ne-cent

om twenty-two, when I was there-that's ten years ago-down to-oh, I don't know-a kid in a pinafore. All looked just alike, barring

He unlocked his desk, rummaged about in its depths, and produced a specimen of the

whole lot named out of the classics. Old Bailey was strong on the classics. His great-grandfather named Tusculum, and Bailey's own name was M. Cicero Bailey. So he called all his girls by heathen names, and had a row with the pa

. "Let me look at that cent." He held it in the l

te City, and I asked him. He said there'd been only one wedding in Tusculum in th

they?" Winfield asked,

ent-minded way. "Just about like that. First rate girls. Old man was as poor as a church mouse; but you would never have known it, t

say they were? How

r's vagueness on the question of a child's age,

ass," observed Mr. Wi

?

ok place, Mr. Richard Cutter walked up one of the quietest

ate task. He had made up his mind to it, or had had it made up for him; but now he felt himself obliged

d incomprehension he had heard his chum's proposition to induce Mr. B

Ashford's place on the big dam when Ashford goes East in August. Why

f no opposition, and he joined with him eight other young ranchmen, who entered into the idea with wild Western enthusiasm and an Arcadian simplicity that could see no chance of failure. Th

r. Cutter that he was about to make a most radical and somewhat impudent proposition to a conservative old gentleman. The

imself to the young lady who opened, at his ring, the front door of on

e Nine Cent-Girls he saw before him; and then, not

't remember me-Mr. Cutter, Dick Cutter? Used

Miss Euphrosyne, looki

just

didn't you know that Papa died nine yea

hat she looked much the same as when he had last seen her, except that she looked tired and just a

to know," she said, simp

if you don't mind. Ah-ah-good day." And he fled to his hote

cheme. What should he tell the boys? What would the boys say? Why had he not thou

ad died a year after the appearance of her ninth daughter. But, he thought, w

k and decorative painting. A big lamp glowed on a centre-table, and around it sat seven of the sisters, each one engaged in some sort of work, sewing, embroiderin

o carry on a conversation with nine young women who looked exactly like each other, except for the delicate distinctions of age which a masculine stranger might well be afraid to note. Dick looked from one to the othe

and Dick began to talk of the West and Western life until the nine pairs of blue eyes, stretched to their widest, fixed upon him as a common fo

to himself. "And old Bailey dea

circumstances, it was clearly his duty to take the morning train for the West. And yet,

at explanation could he make? There was no earthly reason for his appearance in Tuscu

garden; but he found it no easier to explain across the front fence. The explanation never would have been made

I mean is it any thing that concerns us-or-or-Papa's

now but to tell the whole

rians," he said, when he had come to the end,

id not seem to be off

orrow at this time, Mr.

?

ly when Dick presented himsel

u know, I can remember how Papa and Mama lived together, and sometimes it seems cruelly hard that those dear girls should lose all that happiness-I'm sure it's the best happiness in the world. And it can never be, here. Now, if I could get occupation-you know that

choked when sh

Cutter? You don't know how poor we are. There's nothing for my little Clytie to do but to be a dressmaker-a

rosyne wa

syne. It troubled Dick's conscience a bit, as he walked back to the hotel. "But they'l

?

in pursuance of an idea which he had confide

him, "you are clean left o

w am I going to marry a poor gir

p for yourself-" b

y yourself. I 'most starved that last time I tried for myself; and I'd starve next trip, sure. You'v

New York who smiled on yours affectionately once, ere she wed Mammon. I'm going just t

and preparations for the hegira well under wa

hotel by special messenger. He cursed his luck, and went cheerfully about attending to a commission which Miss Euphrosyne, after much urging, had given him, trembling at her own audacity. The size of it had

Miss Euphrosyne. "Papa always k

erved. He stared at her in humble admiration.

?

nky-dun ulsters with the six-inch-square checks of pale red and blue did not look, on these nine virgins, as they looked on the British actress. It struck him, moreo

e was sold. Their lot was cast in Montana. He had his misgivings; but he handed them gallantly

d of the pattern of his choosing-were attracting more attention than any ladies not thus uniformed wou

st, down to Ne' York. They can't play ball not to speak of; but it's

smoking-car. There a fat and affable stranger tapped hi

unds first rate; but they don't give the show that catches the people. You

y show?" inquired the Conductor, as he exa

n?" asked the ir

I'd like to go, first rate

ered, at the end of his pa

hey then?" aske

?

for them; and to the Tifft House, where there were no rooms; and to the Genesee, where every room was occu

or Rosie-here, Boss, sort out the flower-b

been cast at his innocent caravan all the day, when the solitary hall-boy brought a message s

Euphrosyne, firmly, "w

d Dick, feebly; "but may be

dn't realize what it meant. But my eyes have been opened. Nine young unmarried women can not go West with a young man-if you ha

r face in her hands. Her tears tri

e do? Where shall we go?" she cried, for

king up and d

as a married woman to lead the gang, and if-if-if

admitted, with a sob. Speaking came hard

ous emphasis, "what's the matte

e cried, "I had no idea that you-

. Cutter, "it

s eyes lit up with hope long si

N

d have been hear

or it ain't Flora, nor Melpomene nor Cybele nor Alveolar Aureole nor none o

s. She had never thought to be happy, and now she was happy for one momen

our later, Miss Euphrosyne Bailey was Mrs. Richard Cutter. She did not know quite how

?

too busy up at the ranch. The Wife has just bought out Wilkinson; and I've got to round up all his stock. I'll see you next month, at Clytie's wedding. Queer, she should

ICE P

of the mountain over fiftee

ICE P

e colloquial phrase with a consciousness that it was any thing but "nice" Engli

en," correc

, he t

he said the

aid t

'm sure she told me they ha

't enter into

uldn't have understoo

to the normal eye, so the man with a bad memory learns, almost unconsciously, to listen carefully and report accurately. My memory is bad; but I had not had time to forget that

my wife; "and they are st

erious expression. Men may not remember much of what they are told about chi

k they're nice peop

nly they seem to be a little m

e thing to say,"

d not

?

fellow in his neat tennis-flannels, slim, graceful, twenty-eight or thirty years old, with a Frenchy pointed beard. She was "nice" in all her pretty clothes, and she herself was pretty with that type of prettiness which outwears most other types

and Mrs. Biggle, an indurated head-bookkeeper and his prim and censorious wife-out of old Major Halkit, a retired business man, who, having once sold a few shares on commission, wrote for circulars of every stock company that was started, and tried to induce every one to invest who would listen to him? We looked around at those dull faces, the truthful indices of mean and barren minds, and decided that we would leav

gent never stirred off Jacobus's verandah; but we both felt that the Bredes would not profane that sacred scene. We strolled slowly across th

he cried,

uplands and lowlands, woods and plains, all massed and mingled in that great silent sea of sunlit green. For silent it was to us, standing in the silence of a high place-silent with a Sunday stillness that made us listen, without taking thought, for the sound

rs. Brede, after a moment; "you are

reek in that vast stretch of landscape. He found his landmarks, and pointed out to us where the Passaic and the Hackensack flowed, invisible to us, hidden behind great ridges that in our sight were bu

"there is such a thing as getting so far above

ssip of the Tabb and the Hoogencamp-than the Major's dissertation

up the Matterhorn,

s wife; "I didn't know you

ll you-when I was on the other side, you know-it was rather dangerous

hadow passed over the mountain's brow and reappeared far below, a rapidly decreasing b

went home, the Bredes went side by side along th

hat a man would climb the Matterhorn

his isn't the first year I have been married, not

hat I mean,

di

?

boarding-house, Mr.

discourse, "my wife, she

now; but I

-cross like. Thirty-four's on one side o' the s

invariable ru

ou 'n' your wife seem so mighty taken

s, Mr. Jacobus," I replied, conscious of some irrit

"I hain't nothin' to say ag'inst ye

ainly not,

hat he lived at number thirty-four in his street. An' yistiddy she told her that they lived at number thirty-five. He

as it?" I inqu

' twenty-fi

earily. "That's Harlem. Nobody kn

to my wi

nk it's queer?

ung man to-night," I said, "and see if

avely, "she doesn't know whether

imed, "they must have had t

id," said my wife. "I

?

day at Jacobus's-I walked down the long verandah to ask Brede, who was placidly smoking

s capital. And I've been telling him what an everlasting big show he had to take stock in the Capitoline Trust Company-starts next month-four million capital-I told you all about it. 'Oh, well,' he says, 'let's wait and think

have influenced the sale of one share of stock in the Capitoline Company. But that stock was a great investment; a rare chance for a purchaser with a few thousand dollars.

?

d-I don't know how I can better describe an operation familiar to every m

You were right about the children-that is, I must have misunderstood him. There are only two. But the Matterhorn episode was simple enough. He didn't realize how d

, sewing, and she told me that he left her at Geneva, and came back and took he

e said she was on this side of the water

know, Mrs. Tabb said that she didn't know how many lumps of s

ll thing. But it loo

?

ragments that remained on their plates, and made a stately march out of the dining-room. Then Miss Hoogencamp arose and departed, leaving a whole fish-ball on her plate. Even as Ata

peared. We talked it over, and agreed that we were glad that we ha

ld not annoy the ladies. We sat under a trellis covered with a grape-vine that had borne no grapes in the memory of man. This vine, however, bore leaves, and these,

to know who it may be, like, that I hev in my house. Now what I ask of you, and I don'

oice of Mr. Brede re

er), and Mr. Biggle and I looked at each other; and Mr. Jacobus, on the other sid

nse was. Each of us had had one-the Major had had three. But where were they? Where is yours? Tucked in your best-man's pocket; deposited in his desk-or washed to a pulp in his white waistcoat (if white wai

stillness of what seemed like five min

nd let me pay it? I shall leave by the six o'clock t

ev ye leave-" began Mr. Jaco

me your

rated Jacobus,

ur bill!" sa

?

side of the ridges and rises of which we catch no glimpse from lofty hills or from the heights of human self-esteem. We meant to stay out until the Bredes had taken their departure; but

on Mr. Brede's arm, as though she were ill; and it was clear that sh

ok a step

; "she never thought any thing like this

ir. Her hat was trimmed with a narrow-striped silk of the same colors-ma

d my wife; "but that's the prettiest yet. O

eep humiliation of her position, turned sharply away, and opened her parasol to shield her eyes from the sun. A shower of rice-a half-pound shower of rice-fell down over h

's arms, sobbing as if he

my wife cried, as Mrs. Brede sobbed on

bbed Mrs. Brede; "and we d-d-didn't dream what awful lies we'd have to

?

y wants ter. Mr. Brede-" he held out a large, hard hand-"I'd orter've known better," he s

iew," each with an arm about the other's wai

and me, "there is a hostelry down the street where they sell hone

rehead of the great hill. On Mr. Jacobus's verandah lay a spattered circle of shining grains of rice. Two of Mr.

CUS AND THE

d, 'you'll excuse my no

CUS AND THE

pernicus kept it alive just for occupation's sake, now that Tom was dead. But he liked to maintain the assumption that his queer old business, with its publication of half-a-dozen scientific or theological works per annum, was the same flourishing concern that it had been in his prime. That it did not flourish was nothing to him. He was rich, thanks to himself; his wife was rich, thanks to her aunt; hi

porter, "you don't need tho

an o' thim wint off av himself the mornin', an'

icus ordered, and Barney yel

ack, his face was clean-shaven, and although he held in his hand the evidence of his guilt, a book kept partly open with his forefinger, he had an expression

ime reading my books." The young man slowly opened his mouth and answe

ve been reading my own. All I had to do was to

riedly, "there hasn't been any very gre

or it, I read. I ain't going to be a

us, "if you are reading to improve your min

anded him a tat

claimed his employer.

returned the employee, "and

ssages he was sure of, and the studious young porter read them in the artless accent which

ou learn to

ed it up in

e have yo

e Gig-Gi

thing

and some Fif

o you co

his employer's manifest astonishment. "I was janitor of a

is you

chael Q

s your fathe

ng man replied calmly, adding, reflect

xtraordinary! I'll see you again, young man. Barney!" he called to t

chael Quinlan, and invited him to call at the Cope

ssor Barcalow talk wi

se, and was promptly translated to the library, where Professor Barcalow, once President of

ur's ordeal without the

ether his answers were right or wrong. At the e

etween the tuition you do for yourself and the tuition that you receive from a competent teacher as there is between the carpentering you do for yourself and the carpentering a regular carpenter does for you. I can see the marks of self-tuition all over

d, and made his exit

sor, "he will be able to enter Clear Cr

ut Quinlan in. And then I've been thinking-there are all poor Tom's books that he had when he went to Columb

ssor assented hesitatingly, dubi

?

his head-porter a month or two later

than him," said Barney

found that Quinlan had saved him the trouble of taking off the long shee

?

cus had set aside for him. But one day Mr. Copernicus forgot the books, and Mrs. Copernicus asked the young man into the parlor to explain to him how it had happened. When she had explained, being a kindly soul, she made

er, "talk to Mr. Quinlan in French

knew that her French had been bought at a fashionable boarding-school, and bought for show, and her mother had a right to demand its exhibition. She asked M. Quinlan how he portrayed himself, and

y then, Florett

chance, and how he wants to be a teacher when he knows enou

eak so well?" inquired Mrs

Ma'am. At least, the lady of the house was

habit. When Mr. Copernicus heard this new thing

n's teeth, and if he is as good as you say he is, he'd better come once a week and talk F

, Quinlan retaining his idol-like stolidity. Sometimes the dull monotony of his drawl, broken only by h

?

daisies made glad spots in the parks, and Quinlan, at his employer's suggestion, had purchased a ready ma

many things. The Chinese idol had abated no jot of his stolidity, and yet-perhaps-he ha

America-was not he a carpenter? And did not his descendants point with pride to his self-made solidity? And here was native worth; high ambition; achievement

e educated. So, instead of inviting Quinlan to dinner, he invited Mr. Joseph Mitts, the travel

nsonian system. But no such idea had ever entered the head of Mr. Mitts. He roamed about the land, introducing the System wherever he could, and a brisk bus

r. Mitts about Quinlan. Mr. Mitts was interested. He knew a Professor at a fre

satisfaction. "I knew you'd help me out, Mitts. Only it's so h

that Dud ever was vicious or dissolute. But he was the most confirmed idler and spendthrift I ever knew. He couldn't even get through college, and he never would do a stroke of work. He made his father pay his debts half a dozen times, and when that was stopped, he drifted away, and his family quite lost

n? Why-a large, dar

clean-

at was Q

perior knowledge. "It was Chester, and if

s; "my cook is as black as the ace of spades

ment. "But-wait a minute-does your man Quinlan speak

es," replied h

ster!" said

, where did he get

earn somethi

the F

adian. That's where he gets

us made one

t industrious and fa

t is

night-w

r. Mitts, "have you a watchm

. "I have none of those degrading new-fangl

is asleep in your s

?

vering-cloths from the long counters, lay Mr. Michael Quinlan, half-supported on his left elbow. In his other hand he held, half-open, a yellow-covered French novel. Between his lips was a cigarette. A faint shade of something like amusement lent expression to his placid features as h

nd then he greeted them with a gracious wave of his hand-an ea

gig-getting up to welcome you. Ah, Joseph! I saw yo

ess for the better part of a minute.

are

f the Quinlan left about hi

roachable veracity," he said. "I can kik-kik-confi

his voice-"why have you humbugged

gazed at him wi

have thought I was a did-did-damn fool not to know more than I did.

self and get out of he

Well," he continued, as he leisurely pulled on his trousers, "that's the kik-kik-cussèd inconsistency. The j-j-jig is up f

said Mr. Copernicus, trembli

d the unperturbed sinne

ered Mr. Mitts. "Your family, you know

of purple rage. Then he ha

in," he said. "Ther

id the obliging Mr. Mitts. "Wher

"Why, this is all I've got," he said;

luggage?" inq

a much-worn toot

-lil-little here b

?

e scheme is bib-bib-busted here, but I've got confidence in it. It's good-it'll gig-gig-go. Chicago's the pip-pip-place for

life of false pretences?

-did-did-damn-damn-damn-damn!" he vociferated into the calm air of night, by way of relieving his pent

added, as his eye fell on the blue sign of a telegraph o

gratified. "That's

ik-quarter," sai

?

r platform of the Chicago train just as it moved out of th

face, emerged from the interior of the car and threw

mistaken," said Mr

containing a scrap roughly torn out

?

ds. They bade him to a reception given by Mr. and

one that," said Mr

CT

vast black body leap

CT

st side of New York that you would never have imagined that it held six of the most agitated and perturbed women in the great city. But the three Miss Pellicoes, their maid, t

alled himself a book-agent had rung the front door bell. Honora, the waitress, had opened the door a couple of inches, inquired the stranger's business, learned it, told him to depart, tried to close the door, and disco

recounted it for the seventh time, it had assumed proportions that left no room for the charitable hypothe

with fine dramatic action, "and him yellin' an' swearin' and cussin' iv'ry holy name he could lay his b

of the household. She perceived that the combat was deepening

e had decided wh

to her two juniors,

Angela, the younge

tion of what it really meant. I do not propose to keep a lap-dog, or a King Charles spaniel, but a dog-a mastiff, or a

iss Angela. "I shoul

n fact-a puppy, and thus enable him to grow up and to regard us with affection, and be willing to hold himself at all times in rea

or twenty years the Pellicoe house had been a bower of virginity. The only men who ever entered it were the old family doctor, the older family lawyer, and annually, on New Year's Day, in accordance with an obsolete custom, Major Kitsedge, their father's old partner, onc

ich they had seen advertised in the papers. It was in an unpleasantly low and ill-bred part of the town, and when the two ladies reached

a place for us. If we are to procure a dog, he must be procure

th a sudden inspiration.

t seen Hector since he was nineteen. He was perhaps the last person of any positive virility who had had the freedom of the Pellicoe household. He had used that freedom mainly in making attempts to kiss Honora, who was then in her buxom prime, and in decorating the family portraits with cork moustaches and whiskers. Miss Pellicoe clung to the Man of the

s pedigree was, unfortunately, lost, but the breed was high. Fifty dollars wo

in the back-yard-a dog-house with one door about six inches square, to admit the occupant in his innocent puphood, and with another door about four feet in height to emit him, when, in the pride of his mature masculinit

Hector. Beside the consideration of the claims of gratitude and f

Pellicoe house, and departed, slamming the doors behind them. From this box proceeded such yelps and howls that the entire household rushed affrighted to peer through the slats that gridironed the

was Hector, the six-months-old pup, for whose diminutive proportions the small door in the dog-house h

a, "we never can get him out!

said Miss Pellicoe, white, but firm; "and I shall not leave the po

ut," concluded Miss

t, with the two younger Pellicoes holding one door a foot open, and the three maids holding the other door an inch open, Miss Pellicoe seized the household hatchet, and began her awful task. One slat! Miss Pellicoe was white but firm. Two

antry door. Miss Pellicoe, looking as though she needed aromatic vinegar, leaned against the w

coe, "will you kindly remove

herself the luxury of a faint. Then he found the maids, and, after driving them before him like chaff for five minutes, succeeded in convincing Hon

and, "that you might, perhaps, give him a slice or two of last n

ook it from her without ceremony, bore it under the sink and ate all of

ellicoe resolved to address herself to the policeman on th

style, "what height should a mastiff

ared at her in u

m," he replied, blankly,

given to understand that his age is six months. As he is phenomenally large, I

liceman, dubiously. Then his countenance bri

" asked Miss Pellicoe,

lackin'-boxes on th

certainly

he feet starts first, an' the pup grows up to 'em, like. Av

?

ard the tradesmen at the wicket-gate, impartially affectionate toward all the household, and voracious beyond all imagining. But he might have eaten

that," with the tone of submissive deference in which you may hear a good wife say, "Mr. Smi

and a flutter of the heart. He stood for her as the type of that vast outside world of puissant manhood of which she had known but two specimens-her father and Cousin Hector. Per

?

always been Miss Pellicoe's duty; but this year Miss Pellicoe failed to come back from the quiet place in the Catskills, where no chil

are safe with H

the yard, barking in uncontrollable frenzy. At twelve o'clock, when the butcher-boy came with the chops for luncheon, Hector bounded through the open wicket, right into the arms

functionary who was known in the ho

rth five dollars, say, to yez, I have a fri

!" cried Miss Angela,

?

be at home, and his health seemed to be unimpaired; but to Miss Angela's delicate fancy, contact with the vulgar of his kind had left a vague aroma of degradation about him. With her

?

ther it was simply over-feeding. He was certainly shockingly fat, and much indisposed to exertion. He had lost all his activity; all his animal spirits. He spent most of the time in his house. Even his good-nature was going. He had actually sna

though she had just decided to send for an executioner. And even as the words left her lips t

ing mad!"

lthough Hector wailed no more. At the break of day, Miss P

to rise, but he thrashed his tail pleasantly against the wal

er hand in to pet him. Then a stra

"I think-a cat has g

. It was small, it was black, it was dumpy. It moved a round head in an uncert

r hand into the house. Thrice again did

ully, all unconscious of the utter wreck of her masculinity, looking as though it were

-Miss Angela was sobbing so sof

tor's?" Hono

e, rising, "never utter tha

shall I ca

made a pause of impressive s

ERLY S

up and saw a saucy f

ERLY S

o say that you have gone through the woods, or, simply, to your destination. You find that you have plunged into a new world-a world that has nothing in common with the world that you live in; a world of wild, solemn, desolate grandeur, a world of space and

hed on a little flat point, shut off from the rest of the mainland by a huge rocky cliff. It is an impertinence in that majestic wilderness, and Leather-Stocking w

ot so very young, either-whose cheeks were uncomfortably red as he looked first at his own canoe, high and dry, loaded with rods and

again, Mr

tring-piece of the dock. It was the face of a girl between childhood and womanhood. By th

y, but not inexcusable in the case of a youthful tomboy. She had taken off her canvas shoe, and was shaking some small stones out of it. T

o have gone fishing with me; but she remembered at the la

heard them make it up last eve

an clean fo

oquette in the world!" he c

he string-piece of the dock, "and more too. A

," said the youn

it is, Mr. Morpeth. You've been hanging around Pauline for a year, and you are the only one of t

a-w

five seasons. There's only one way to get her worked up. Two fellows tried it, and they nearly got there; but they w

r jealou

scorn; "make her jealous of the oth

man ponder

den change in the atmosphere, and perceived that the young lady

cted himself. Winter promptly changed to Su

a good one. Only-it involves

ed Miss Floss

dden admiration for any one of these other young ladies whose charms I have hithe

d frank response; "especially as ther

ere am I to dis

nd retied her shoe.

th-" a hardly percept

rpeth was startled

es

eth simp

Miss Flossy, "I'm not

-" and he threw a convincing emphasis into the last word as he took what was probably

o you supp

ister told me.

ill your elder sister's married. I was eighteen years old on the third of last December-unless they began to double on me before I

k that he was an ill-bred young man. He was merely astonished, and

your plan of campaign?

sy, calmly, "and to f

itude you are to take w

imperturbable Flossy. "

dangl

ou know. Let you hang r

ind

. You might as well face the situation. You don'

aned the

d shore, talking to Little Sister. Now if Little Sister jumps at you, why, she's simply taking Big Sister's leavings; it's all in the family, any way, and there

ask you to

ound like a wet cat, and mope, and hang on worse then ever. Then Big Sister will see that s

id Mr. Morpeth. He seemed to have

hance," said Miss Fl

ger sign or sound of the canoe, and he looked at Miss Flossy, who sa

w how feasib

Mama will write and scold me. But she's got to stay in New York, and nurse Papa's gout; and the Miss

uggested a complete abandonment to Miss Flossy's

ime-table, and I've got to make a strike for liberty, or die. And besi

rpeth

bore as possible," he said, extendin

e Sister doesn't want any kind, elegant, supercilious encouragement from Big Sister's young man. It's got to be a real flirtat

ng man

aid; "but are you certain t

uline will raise an awful row; but if she go

Flossy's calm face. Then he

so far as I'm con

hand met his with a firm,

use you," sai

?

of. Miss Flossy's scheme had succeeded only too brilliantly. The whole hotel was talking about the

lf giving the most life-like imitation of an infatuated lover that ever delighted the

sister that if she, Flossy, found Mr. Morpeth's society agreeable, it was nobody's concern but her own, and th

n opened

elegraph to New York for some real nice candy and humbly present it fo

in marvels of sweets in a miracle of an upholstered box. The next day he found her

her to hear-she had men around her already: she had been discovered-"but I never eat sweets, you know.

nbonnière went to a yell

k, only that he might drive her over the ridiculous little mile-and-a-half of road that bounded the tiny peninsula. And she christen

ved Flossy. But Mama could not leave Papa. His gout was worse. The Miss Redingtons must act. The Miss Redingtons merely

he younger Miss Belton he was on terms which the hotel gossips characterized as "simply scandalous." Brown glared at him when they

to Mr. Morpeth, "it's time y

in the evening darkness. No one was near

ting for us. Now walk me up and down and ask me to marry you so that she can hear

y Belton up and down the long verandah. He had passed Mrs. Melby three

I-I-I lo

or uncertain. It rang out clear

nd I wish you didn't. That's what

. Morpeth, vag

s Flossy; and she added in a swift asi

e my wife?" stamm

erly ridiculous. The idea of it! No, Muffets, you are charming in

the gloom at the end

of having only the ghost of a breath left in hi

t. And you were beautifully rejected, weren't you. Now-look at

that every man and woman in the hotel knew that he had "pro

?

egan to cast for trout. They had indifferent luck. Miss Belton and Mr. Brown caught a dozen trout; Miss Flossy Belton and Mr. Morpeth caught eighteen or nineteen, and t

e of the canoe so sharply that the beautiful split-bamboo broke sharp off in

Muffets," she said; "row me home,

; and she was so much moved that she stamped her small foot, and endangered the bottom

Flossy toward the hotel. He had said nothing whatever, and

ou to do, Muffets," she said; "but you haven't save

d before he knew just what had happened, Morpeth was swimming toward the shore, holdin

bottom in his last desperate struggle to keep the two of them above wat

ith her, and when he got b

it? It was wicke

mposedly in his arms, "that will do,

bringing blankets and bra

?

ached to the apartments of the Belton sisters. Miss Belton, senior, was just coming out of the

far enough in playing with the feelings of a m-m-mere child,

age Miss Pauline Belton sw

peth heard a voice, weak, but cheery, addr

's crazy mad. She'll make up to

t was empty. He pushed the door open, and entered.

he whispered, as he

I love you and you only? Don't you know that I haven't thought about any one el

weak arms, and put them a

g all Summer?" said she. "Did

O

'd oughter've seen

O

man who had but one desire in the world ungratified. His name was Richard Brant, and he was a large, deep-chested, handsome man-a man's man; hard

and of a straight-forward, go-ahead spirit that set him apart from the people who make affectation the spice of life. He wanted only one thing in the world, and that one thing money would not buy for him. So he was often puzzled as to how he might best spend his

t need it, any more than a cow needs a side-pocket. It's too beastly hot for comfort at this

, although he was a man of strong nerves, he sta

ar's Ghost

he squalid, commonplace sub-suburban street, it was bewildering. There, ahead of him, walked Mephistopheles-Mephistopheles dressed in a

t, undersized man of fifty, whose moustache and goatee, dyed an impossible

ou?" deman

shivering figure, "

was it? A walking advertisement-for a

ring, "lemme get along. I'm most freezing. I'm Zozo-t

es passed on his way to the railroad station, and he had some faint memory of a g

in that neighborhood is kinder superstitious. They ain't no idea of astrology. They don't know it's a Science. They think it's some kind

o that he made ten sy

at my street clo'es before I knew it, and so I had to light out mighty quic

e off his should

"Confound you!-" as the

ped into the coat w

cried, "but I

ar from here?"

ost home, now," replied Zozo, s

he had been able, by rigorous economy, to save up enough money to build himself a house-"elegant house, sir," he said; "'tain't what you may call large; but it's an

"orfice" at his own cost. Three hundred and twenty-seven dollars he had spent on that modest structure. No, he had not insured it. And now the bakery had

a great deal of scroll-work about it, and with a tiny tower, adorned with fantastically carved shingles. As they stood on the porc

There's Zadkiel, and Zoroaster, and-oh, I don't know-they're 'Zs' or 'Xs', most of 'em; and it goes with the populace. I don't no more like humoring their superstition than you would; but a man's got to live; and the

the poor woman; "y

the astrologer, "and m

is wife cried,

a' froze if he hadn't lent me the loan of his overcoat. My sakes!" he broke out, as he looked at the garment

d the owner

for this coat. My sakes!" he exclaimed, reverently, "never see the like! That'd keep a corpse warm. Shut th

t? 'Tain't mornin', is it?' sez she. And the orfice burned down! Oh, my, Popper! I thought our troubles was at an end. Come right in, Mr.-Mr.-I ain't rightly got your name; but thank you kindly for looking after Popper, an

the dining-room. It was a small dining-room, with a sma

nd his best suit with it," explai

ch revered in the family. A four-year-old child hung back in a corner, regarding her grandmother with awe. B

the real-estate boom in this neighborhood, I ain't no astrologer. Yes, Ma," he went on, addressing the old woman, who gave no slightest sign of intere

t, and his wife was passing her

" she said, "y

annels," said Zozo. "Don't you

in his office was his only suit. Or perhaps he wished

," he said, addressing Brant, "but we b'lieve in spirits for medicinal use. Yes, Mother, you'd oughter've seen that place burn. Why, the flames was on me before I know'd where I was, and I jist thought to myself, thinks I, if these here people see me a-runnin' awa

d look at his wonderful watch, that struck the hour when you told it to. Before long she was sitting on his knee. Her father was telling the female members of the family about the fire, and she felt both sleepy and shut out. She pl

consciousness of his own achievement to realize the extent

u get three hundred dolla

t he might wake the baby, who was sl

o-to advance the

at him alm

Society house, and there's all the mortgage on it that it

uspicion of the poor. "Your note will do, Mr. Simmons," he s

ty did dawn upon them, nothing would do but that Mr. Brant should take another drink of whiskey. It was not for medicinal purposes this time; it was for pure conviviality

his benefactor's horoscope. His benefactor told him the day of his birth, and guessed at the hour. Zozo figured on a slate, drawing astr

y when his impassive and sleepy guest sighed as he spoke of a blonde woman who was troubling his heart, and who would be his, some day. There was a blonde woman troubling Brant's heart; but there was

id. "She may make a muss;

ght!" sa

of genuine regret. "But you jist see if it don't come tr

?

r, at the age of eighteen, to a title. The title was owned by a disagreeable and highly immoral old spendthrift, who had led her a wretched life for two weary years, and then had had the unusual courtesy and consideration to die. Then she took what

him. That, she said, she could not do. He was her best, her dearest friend: she admired and esteemed him more than any

her more than once. And there matters st

he began to find the situation intolerable. He had no heart in his business-which, for the matter of that, took care of itself-and he found it, as he said to himself, "a chore to exist." And what wi

it. I will wait till an even two years is up, and then I will go a

scientific idiot was getting up an Antarctic expedition

tles it,"

ound it just as hard as ever to occupy his mind. If it had not

and discussed with Zozo the color of the paint and the style of the signs. Zozo tried to convert him t

ng hid in Zozo's back room, listening to Zozo's clients, who were often as odd as Zozo himself. He ha

?

o worshiped Brant as his preserver and benefactor. Zozo's affairs entertained Brant. Br

ot an astrologer for nothing. Brant's coachman and Mme. de Renette's maid were among Zozo's clients

?

iculous, Annette! I

ame. And it is not well to anger those who have the power of magic. If they can bring go

with a gorgeously-pr

"show him in, Annette. B

ly idea what to do with his hat, profuse of bo

inquired Mme. de Ren

n a tremulous voice, "I come

l you kindly deliver your message? I do

?

t, beaming, happy Zozo who stopped Ric

sir," he said; "I'd like

t, wondering if Zozo wante

an, "and I hope you b'lieve, sir, that me and Mommer and Ma

s all righ

ere, like, in your business. But knowin' as I done how your

lady!'" bro

Rennet," ex

il!" sai

st that her mind wasn't at ease with regard to the dark lady-whereas the stars show clear as ever they showed any thin' that the dark lady was only tempora

woman in the world! What have you said?-oh, curse it!" he cried, as he realized, from the pa

nd rushed off toward Ma

t. "There's no getting an idea l

?

ly presented himself to the lady of hi

Mme. de Rene

any attention

woman?" inquired

no other woman

enette, with icy distinctness; "but I know that there won't be,

o was j

, OLD

nia-'tai

, OLD

ons were of English extraction, and, as somebody once said, the extraction had not been co

hich was as English as they could make it, among surroundings quite

ons, and they were unreasonably proud of the fact that one of their Tory ancestors had been obliged to leave New York for Halifax, in 1784, having only the alternative of a more tropical place of residence. I do not kn

ty has presented the poor bricklayer who saved seventeen lives and lost both arms at the Chi

rs. Tullingworth-Gordon would sigh; "a

lge the fancy of his life, and to be as English as his name; an

"which 'Uckins it ever was an' so it were allays called, and which 'Uckins is good enough for me, like it was good enough

ing and queen. Of course, at the first, there was some friction between these two potentates. For ten years they scratched and sparred and jostled; for ten years after that they lived in comfortable amity, relieving their feelings by establishing a reign of terror over the other servants; and then-ah, t

es of the situation, was having her own way in

ten long years. But I say as how it would 'ave been more to your credit, Samuel Bilson,

ly: "what you was, you is to me, an' I don't noways regret that you ain't what you was,

?" demanded Sophronia,

, placidly: "or to be

sich," said Sophronia, c

geway. He paused in his labors; put his hands on his hips, an

derful, an' you 'ave your teeth which Providence give you. But forty's forty. If you mean Bilson, you mean Bilson now,

d for a space of some few weeks she was doubtful

r was above reproach. He allowed himself one glass of port each day from Mr. Tullingworth-Gordon's stock; but there he drew the li

-Gordon had been made acquainted with the state of affairs; had raged, had cooled, and had got to that point where the natural woman arose within

ient. Her betrothal was not two months old when she suddenly realized that there was something grotesque and absurd about it. How did she get the idea? Was it an echo of the gossip of the other servants? Did she see the shop-keepers, quick to catch all the local gossip, smiling at her as she wen

ead and ears in love-and yet the little red feather of his vanity will st

matters not. One dull November day, Sophronia Huckins tol

en or may befifteen years ago, I don't say as it wouldn't 'a' been different. But as to sich a thing now, I may 'ave been fooli

d grown old and awkward, he was unaware of it. To his dull and heavily British apprehension, it was the same Cup

les. You don't know when they're comin' out

ing had been put to rights. He was sitting in the butler's pantry, sippi

aret, with the comet year, with the wine that had rounded the Cape, with the Cognac, with the Chartreuse, with the syrupy Cura?oa

he love of twenty years nipped in its late-bourgeoning bud. She

claret; he drank the nutty sherry; he drank the yellow Chartreuse and the ruddy Cura?oa. He drank the fiery Cognac, and the smok

d a side-door in the mansion of Mr. Tullingworth-Gordon,

reat South Bay, and there he had wandered in his first intoxication. There he had stepped over the edge of a little dyke that surrounded Mr. Tullingworth-Gordon's pike-pond-where all the pike died, because the water was too sa

or the doctor. The doctor came, and set the leg. He also smelt of Mr. Bil

uble with him, probably. Hasn't h

orth-Gordons. It came, in some way, to the ears of Sophronia.

and head. He looked up, as he lay on his bed, and saw a comely, middle-aged Englis

ia!" he

he medical man said

ia-'tain

, or a 'orse or a goat, or anythin' that is my neighbor's. But

the sufferer; "'ta

Bilson. You wait, an' you'll se

ole in the floor. Through this hole came a peculiarly shaped fel

old," said Sophro

ying slightly backward and forward, like a stiff cornstalk in a mild

r the Rectorship of St. Bede's the Less, a small church in the neighborhood, endowed by Mr. Tullingworth-Gordon and disapproved of by his Bishop, who had not yet appointed a clergyman. The Bishop had been heard to say that he had not yet made up his mind whether St. Bede'

household by grace of Mrs. Tullingworth-Gordon's charity. In New England they would

elbow in astonishment,

I ain't a-dyin', and I ain't got no need of a clergyman, th

a wax-figure in a show, "this is to wed you and me, Samuel Bilson,

Mr. Bilson inqu

I can not, both bein' single, and nussed you mu

de him to leap from the bed; but his

shouted: "I'

, calmly but sternly, "if marr

s hollow and deeply reproachfu

," she

'ere

here y

u 'ave not tre

nown as you was not fit to take care of yourself. But I mean to do my dooty no

neck-band of his night-shirt and ra

understand-you did not tell me-there does not appear to have been the u

him with scorn in he

sir, as you find y

r me, you know, I can't perform the

rew more profo

w'y we should not be lawfully

rturbed cleric, "h

r men to find out w'en they wanted wives, there'd be more old maids than there i

one last f

I was; I'm a wuthless and a busted wreck. I can't tie no

bably, "and you know better than I do, you should be glad

an broke in, feebly asserting him

nia; "and we're a-waitin' f

tated a second; then nervously opened his book, and began the service. Sophronia sto

g the two chore-girls; and with a trembling v

his woman to be t

-y

nd had tightened on his with so powerful a pressure t

"I can not proceed, M-M-Miss-ah, wh

intending for to part 'usband and wife at this point,

lace to a flush quite as ghastly in its way. The blood was wa

and Bilson. Why had he yielded to her? Why had he permitted himself to be dragged hither? Why was he

ay: Who giveth this Woman

t seemed to open a way out of the horribly irregular busine

er or a Friend h

d Sophroni

ce from the lower s

'I

a'

-an' say it

do you want,

pen your mouth an' say 'I do' out

e from the

if you'll 'ave the kindness to go on, sir, we won't detain you any lo

minutes later, addressing the chore-girls, "Samuel an

e head of a youthful negro, perhaps fourteen years of age. Mr. Ch

e to say I done

mulous indignation in his voice; "did this negr

y," replied the

im, and at the chore-girls. Then he opene

?

ut-well, Bilson was growing old, and Sophronia was growing tyrannical. Perhaps it was better as it was. And, after all, they h

eighteen months later, he did not care to do more than sit in the sun and q

man a-goin' around with a baby, and a-nussin' of him. If things was as the

2

2

NAWAY B

sant home to be gone a year and a day, are just the reading for a Summer's afternoon, and there is still enough of Summer in the air to make it enjoyable to its fullest. How the Browns fell in with a band of barn-storming professionals; how

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I have done this with the sole hope of making that inspiration clear to people who will not or can not read Maupassant in the original. If through the new climes, the new times, the new changes, the new worlds, indeed, into

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