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About The Eugene weekly guard. (Eugene, Or.) 1899-1904 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 21, 1903)
TheContrabandist; One Life’s Secret! —~~r CHAPTER XIII. It sai evening. Iu the lofty an I richly furniahed library of the marquis, the ail- ver latupa burned with a soft, subdued glow, blending their moonlight radiance with the deeper and warmer tinge cast by a blaring wood fire upon the broad hearth over the magnificent apartment, with its dark, massive, antique furniture, its broad, high walls, lined with costly attd substantial volumes, the crimson draper ies of its deep windows, and the polished oaken floor that shone and reflected back the mellow warmth in rippling lines of light. Beside a table of curiously carven oak. which is strewn with rare and ancient volumes and the writing implements of the marquis, aud which occupies the cen ter of the floor, sits Rose. She is lean ing forward upon this table, her face hid den in her folded arms—those fair, sculp tured arms whose snowy whiteness gleams rarely through the veil of falling tresses. Her graceful form is attired in a robe of shining fabric, its pearl-hued folds sweeping the floor aliout her and shining, glittering softly in the mellow light shed all around her. She does not move: she is silent—motionless; she hard ly seems to breathe even. So quiet is she. as she reclines thus, with her face concealed, that you might think her sleep ing. But Rose is not sleepiug. Her errand hither is of too painful a nature for that. Alone, in this swelling silence, she waits; and listening for an approaching foot step, the hour passes in deep and sorrow ful reverie. For Rose has a duty, too long deferred, to perform to-night, and its consequences may be only too bitter —bitter to her, inasmuch as they affect others. She does not fear the perform ance of this duty because she shrinks from fulfilling her trust—from keeping her plighted word: but she pictures to herself the disappointment she may be aliout to inflict on others. A distant door uncloses, but so softly In its casing of cloth that no sound fol lows. It is a gentleman who enters; he pauses a moment; his glance takes in the beauty and subdued splendor of the scene before him; but it is accustomed to that. It rests upon the center of the whole— upon the bowed figure of the young girl yonder by the table. A shadow, a blend ing at once of sorrow and perplexity, rests upon bis fine brow. Then closing the door, he advances, and stun.ls beaide the table. "Rose!" he calls, gently. The young girl raised her head. "Is it you, Louis?” she asked, with an air of sadness. “I thought you were away.” "I have remained at home. Rose. I could not go. I wished to see you.” "You wished to see me, Louis? We are in each other's presence every day. To-night----- ” "Ay, to-night. Rose! To-night, you would say, you have an interview with my unele, and cannot listen to me. I knew of this interview; my uncle told me; and, forgive me, dear Rose, but I would prevent it!” He spoke in a subdued, but agitated voice. He seated himself beside her, and leaned, also, forward on the table, with his hands clasing hers, as he ut- terqd these imploring words. "You would prevent it, Louis!—why? Would you bid me neglect the fulfilment of a duty already too long delayed?” "Ah, Rose, you are about to seal your fate! Think once more, I beseech you; there is time. Break this ideal bondage; lie silent, and forget the vows that are no longer binding. Do not bring this great sorrow to my uncle, who loves you so; do not break up this happy house hold, which can be no more happy when you have sacrificed yourself—when you have left the hearth that is only bright with your presence, to hide yourself in obscurity!” a The tears were filling her sweet eyes; a great cry was struggling for utterance in her breast; but she silenced it with a half-despairing effort. She raised her glance to his. "Y'ou are aware, then. Louis, of the object of this interview?” "Ah, too well—too well!" he answered; “for I knew that it must come, sooner or later, since you adhere to the decision you once made. But again I ask you— do not reveal this secret to my uncle.” "It is not alone my promise to Robin which I regard, Louis." "You would say that you love him still, then?” The tears fell from her eyes; a blush stole to her fair cheek; her head was turned aside. "Ah. no—no! do not say it. Rose!” he cried, sorrowfully. "Louis—Louis, this it not kind—It is not like you!” said the young girl, turn ing to him again. "You know I cannot break my promise. Do not add to the sorrow I already feel. I must see your uncle; I must acknowledge my betrothal to Robin.” “And render him unhappy, cut Helen Montauban to the very heart, leave me wretched—miserable! Rose, listen to tu e —" % "Louis, be silent. I entreat!" she tit tered, withdrawing her hand from his. w-hile the crimson glow of consciousness and timidity suffused her countenance; "have pity on me!” "Rose, one instant. Let me speak for the last time. I love you; I would ask you to be my wife! Nay—do not start and turn away from me. Hear me to the • nd. How can I bear to see you—you. Rose, who should move among the high est and the noblest of France, envied and admired by ail—who should have at command the thousand luxuries for which yon were born—who should oc cupy, finally, a positioo and enjoy ad vantages suited to your beauty, your grace, your refinement, your intellect- how can I bear to see you the wife of a peasant? Ah, be merciful to me! tie just to yourself; awake from this fatal trance: for you are dreaming. Rose." He spoke with strange energy. His . tones thrilled through her; his glance 1 •ought hers, waiting for an answer, with an earnestness—an anxiety that con- j fused her. A feeling of faintness at e "ver her; she put her band to her brow; I all was strange bewilderment about her 1*1111 bis eyes were fixed s|-n her. «till he watched eagerly. But over his lip« , stole the palor of death; hi« fine brow I grew cold and white as marble itself, and on it atrssl the very dew of ag ' "Ton yield, then?” be said, in a voice choked with emotion. "Yield!" Hhe rose slowly from her •eat; she unclasped his fingers from hers with despairing strength. "Ah. no' You mistake! I lore him; I wiU be true to him.” I-ouia stood with one hand supporting himself by the table, the other pressed harl aga.nst his side, and bis fa-e avert X ♦» A TRUE STORY OF THE SOUTH OF ♦» FRANCE tyy II •d. so that she did not see its expreaslen. He did not speak; but the hand resting upon the table was withdrawn in a mo ment and it trembled. "Louis, I have hurt—wounded v»u: I have been too harsh! Will you not for give me?" Rose said, gently, and iu a tone that quivered with agitatiau. She drew near to him, and laid her hand im ploringly upon his arm. "You can but see that my promise must be kept, and it pained ms that you should urge me to break it. Ah, it is sacred, Louis! help me to keep it so.” 1 here wan no reply. But he turned towards her; he held out his arms; be gathered her to his breast and held her there, while his lips were pressed calmly, silently, tenderly to hers. Then releasing her, he went out from her presence. The door closed tiehind him. A step is heard without—that of the marquis. "M ell, my Rose, you are waiting for me,” he said, cheerily, as he approached her; "and have been waiting some time, I am afraid, too. What shall I say for myself, eh?” and he seated himself be side her. "But, what ails you. my child?” he added, with evident concern; "you are ill!" "No—no' I am not ill, sir; but I am un happy," returned Rose, lifting her l>eau- tiful eyes, swimming with tears, to his earnest face. “Unhappy? you are young for that. Rose. Some girlish whim it is, 1’11 war rant me—nothing more, and you are mak ing yourself extremely miserable about it.” And he stroked her bright hair gent ly, as he spoke these words iu an enliv ening tone. “It is no whim, sir.” answered Rose, sadly. "I have been doing wrong all this time------ " She could proceed no further for her tears. "Doing wrong, poor little mouse? and to make a confession?” smiled the good old man. kindly. “Why, Rose, I think, then, that I must grant absolution before hand, and refuse to listen to your story. I won't hear any tales against my little girl.” "Ah, monsieur, you treat it lightly! You do not know how—how---- ” “I don't know, 1 suppose you would say. how serious an affair it is—is that it, little Rose, eh ?” “Yes, monsieur,” answered the young girl. "Exactly. Well, then, suppose I try to guess?” “You could not guess! Monsieur, yon must read this." And she drew from her pocket a letter, which she was about to give him; but he put it away, smilingly, with his hand. “Y'ou will not allow me to guess. Rose? then I will not look at your letter. I am harder than stone, my bird. And now. Rose, don't interrupt me, for, as I told you, I mean to guess; and I'll wager a —a wedding dress shall it be, petite?" His good-natured, comical manner and lively tone, together with a certain sig nificance which he threw into his last words caused her first to smile, and then to blush, despite her sorrow and agita tion. He waited an instant, and then went on: "What—silence? then you consent. Rose?—well, a wedding dress it shall be, theu. As I said, I will wager a wedding dress, lace, jewels and all.” “I shall want neither lace nor jewels, monsieur," said Rose, half sadly. "Do not interrupt me, my child! Against—let me see—against a pair of diamond buckles. You see I mean to make you pay well. Rose—that I shall guess rightly.” "I do not understand you. monsieur,” said the young girl, wondering, perplexed and diverted at his manner. "You don't? what a pity!" There was mischief in his eyes, that brought the smile to hers. "What a pity!" he repeat ed. “Well, at all events. I will com mence. and probably, by the time I shall have finished, you will comprehend my meaning more fully. In the first place, then, there is a certain young girl—you see I mention no names. Rose—a certain young girl, I say, who has a lover. You are listening. I presume, my child?” "I am listening, monsieur.” “Good! This young girl. then, is be trothed. Very well; that is not at all to be wondered at, as young girls very fre quently find themselves in this position. She is betrothed to a poor young man—a workman; we will say he ia—a gardener. Well, these two—the girl and her lover— cannot marry yet. because they are by no means in suitable circumstances; for she is quite as poor as he. Ah. they must be content to wait!” He paused, and regarded her with a curious smile. She looked up. her eyes sparkling with fresh-streaming tears. “Ah. monsieur! you are telling me my----- " The good marquis kissed her. “I am telling you about two people whom 1 once knew, my child. I will pro ceed. Our young gardener, we will say. goes away; and the girl, who meets with some slight i-hange of circumstances dur ing his absence, continues to remember him. But for some reason, which is. doubtless, in this case, an extremely nat ural one. she neglects to inform a certain friend, or friends, of hers, that she has promised to marry this young man. For this neglect she presently begins to re proach herself. Now, listen again. Rose;” and he grew quite serious; “if this young girl—if you. Rose, had been really alemt to bestow your band upon a poor, low born peasant, who had no desires, no as pirations. above bis condition: if you had become the bride of such a one, and for saken us and our love and care for you, after we hare all been so happy here to gether. and cast away from you ail that belongs to you in your present position, bad suffered that finer mind, those quick sensibilities, thst loftier, thst mors el- vated and refined nature, to mats with the coarse, gross, blunt composition of a mere tiller of the soil, a rude, uncultivat ed peasant, then, my child» I confe»» that It would have been a bitter, bitter thing to me. It would have b»a the hardest blow this heart has borne f .r many • long year R om !” And bi« voice grew husk; r. and faltered, and the tear», de- his manhood, gathered in his eye«, I lave learned to love you. my darling, ■aid. "with a father's affection. I bad .1• oDCF i aeem to bring lid have been jr< raising her head aud sixaking earnestly —seriously. "Robin was different from those about him. lie was better—more noble than they. He was " She broke off in the mi.lat of her words, blushing and confused at her own anituatiou. "Not long ago I had an old geutle- -'"•J; IUT '"‘‘•'’L .'«« need have no shame, said the marquis, kindly; “this man from a rural village to visit me," youug num was. indeed, something more said the suburbanite, "aud he found than those whom one is accustomed to New York dull. I never realised tie- meet iu that class to which he was allied. fore how dull our place couid be" 1 confess that your preference for him The New York Times explains why ia no mystery to me, aud I do not at all — ■ ' ' -....................... -- the gentleman from the eouutry found disapprove of it.” the city less lively than the life to WHEN THANKSGIVIN' COMES. Ah, how good you are, monsieur!" | uttered the >..... ajirl. gratefully, as w hich he had lieen accustomed. To Golti' to have a joyful day most persona, particularly to city resi she pressed his hand to her lips, Hout neit iburtuiav dowu our way "It ia no merit to me. Rose, that my dents, the old Utah's point of view will lielative« ’ll all be here Cumin’ now fr'rn far an- near. own honest convictions force me to ac- , be a uew one. Got « turkey home. i’ll bet knowledge hia superiority, aud the good “YVhen at home the old gentleman la the biggest we've had vet: sense you have displayed iu your choice. I w as accustomed to go after his mail,” Always lota to eat. I’ve round When Thankaglvlu’ cornea around. And now." he added, while the old said the city man; “so after break laughing glance shone in his eyes, "I dare fast one mornlug be said he would just Pa. he’ll carve the noble bird. •ay you are dying w ith curiosity to know Toilin' all the j<4ea te a heard. bow I came into possession of all this step round to the postortlce and ask Ma she'll keep things movin' right, for the mail. We bad to explain that Everyone II talk a aigbt knowledge." All except in* Bill an me ; "Indeed, air. it is a matter of curiosity , there was no postortlce within two We ll be at III aa «till can be. to uie," she answered, frankly. miles of us. and that we never visited Won't have time to make a sound When Thankagivln' cornea arvuud. "What, then, will you say, if I assure the office; we just waited until the you that Robiu himself told to me the ixistuian came round. Golly! but h a bully, though. greater part of it all. and that I divined Havin' relatives, you know "When the old gentleman was balk only a very little bit—eh, Rose?" he ask- I Ma jeat smile* when Bill and I ed of going to the postofflce. he said 'lake a aevond piece of pie; ed. Ta. he’ll only laugh anti roar “Robin, sir? ah, then you have seen that he really must get shaved. Would When Yve paaa our plate« for more; we direct him to a barber shop? Then him!" said Rose, with hardly suppressed N oy er a .titled n* ner frowned j When Thankagivlu' cornea around. joy. I bad to tell him that 1 didn't know ’ "1 have seen him. my child.” of a tiartier shop within a mile of the • I’ncle Jim aea me an’ Bill "And lately?" 'S jeat about ea hard to till house I shaved myself, and when I Ei two elephant«, but Gee! “Quite lately,” he returned, pleased and needed the services of a barber 1 If they'll only let ua be amused at her innocent betrayal of de- i found one downtow u. We won't cure fer what hey aay. light. But jeat grin an' eat aw ty "That greatly surprised him. for at We ll tn» full clear f. u» the ground "May I ask when it was. monsieur?" When IhankN.lY In’ comes mi und home his visits to the barber, a cheer “It was yesterday; uay—I have seen , Council Bluff* Nonpareil. ful. neighlairly. talkative fellow, are him as lately as to- day.” among the pleasantest Incidents of the "To-day? ah, then, he is very near!” she said, in a subdued yet joyful tone, week. It also set him thinking, and aud with her eyes bent to the floor, as we had to confess under cross-exami in meditation. Suddenly raising them, nation that we hardly bought so much she asked: "Where was it. monsieur?" as a paper of pins in our part of the "Too many questions. Rose.” laughed city. We did not patronize the little the marquis—"too many questions. I I shops of the region. Everything we must keep his whereabouts a matter of needed we bought in great shops ten secrecy for a short time." “Ah, monsieur!" said Rose, gently, and miles away. We bad to wait for moat DON'T fvvl •• if I should enjoy this things twelve or even twenty four with a pretty air of deprecation. Tbsuktgivin’.” »sid Mrs. Joel Nn "Indeed, my dear child, it will do you hours, and if an article was urgently bett. looking down into the basket of no harm. Wait till to-morrow, only to needed, we had to make a journey of glossy, red cheeked Npitseubergs a» if it morrow, and I will tell you where he is; something like twenty miles to get it. wero • family vault and taking up an nay. more—you shall see him. You will "That seemed to the old gentleman apple aa If it had been a akull; "uo, I grant me uutil than?” an excellent Joke on city life. Ills don’t." "Willingly.” "Then. Sarepta.” observed her hue own village Is aliout as far from the but there's somethin' reserved about her. I autumn rose in her hair, waa tripping “Now you can easily tell how I guessed band, who had just thrown a huge log hither and thither as light footed and only near-by city of any size, as our at the object of your errau l thither to on the open firv, "you don t d.aam noth and I didn't like tn ask about you— house Is from the heart of New York. in' to be thankful for! It'a aa harnaome whether you had decided to go out as a hslpfnl aa half a doaen household fairies night.” governess or not ; because, my dear, Joel j merged luto one. while Mrs Niebett “Since Robin told you all about thia.” It was plain enough that he thought 11 turkey aa ever flapped, mid I don t and I were talkin' last night, aud we j stood regarding her with a loving eye, we had returned to something like the know of a year when I've had nicer she said, with a slight and charming both thought what a comfort it would be. mnrmurin^ to herself: pumpkina on that ar’ corn lot! blush, “you must hare had little difficulty conditions of the frontier. "Well, well, it aeema like It was the to have you here ” " 'Taiu't turkey or pumpkin pies or in divining my purpose, when, at your "He was evidently comparing the in Iswd'e will to deny ua of just what we "To have me here?" questioning this morning. I acknowledged conveniences of our situation with the craul.erry sssa aa inakea Thauksgivin , “We're old and we're alone, and some moot want, but if I had a daughter I that it was to say to you something im condition of his farmer friends a few aighed Mrs. Niebett. how we've both took a fancy to you, tny could wish « » waa like Lida " "What ia It. then? Ef it'a cold westh mediately connected with myself that I miles front his village. As the old kitchen clock rtruck 1 Mrs. He had al chi hl. Ho when your Aunt Constance er. I should ha' thought the laet fn>at desired to meet you here.” ways been sorry for them; be was would hs' dime the bueinesa for you goes hack to the city, if you choose to Nisbett. looking fmn she window, gave "Exactly, Rose.” said the marquis, a Httla cry. come here”— gaily. "Well, my darling, we have mads just as sorry for us. Invoking round pretty fairly. Them artemiaiaa tiy the Mrs Nisbett paused abruptly ami buret "There he comes -there comw Joel, upon the dense shnibliery near the front door ia a<*orehe<l black, and the old our confessions—have we not? and they into tears. and, as 1 l.ve. there's the boy with htan!" were not such terrible confessions, after house und the wall of woodland only maple ia Iosin' ita leavea aa if they ««a “We had a little girl once, my dear, j Lida ran into the bedroom. all. Robin, I honestly declare to you, I a few yards away, he said, with a reinin’ down, l'araon Jsrvia io conUn’ and if she'd lived »he would ha’ been I When she returned, Mrs. Niebett wae like, aud am proud of. I have invited kind of shiver. ‘No doubt this is a all tiie way from SloateariUe to proeoh nigh about your age ” clasped In the arms of a tall, handsome him here to-morrow. But, Rose," and ba lovely place in midsummer, but It to-morrow, and the quirt's larned a bran Lida let the leavea drop down on the man of four or flva and twenty. new anthem just s-purpoee. about bein' took her hand in bis. "you must not ex floor aa she sprang up and threw both must be cold here In winter.’ ” "lAda.” said the proud matron, striv thankful for harvest and all that aort of pect to behold the linen blouse and ser arms round the old woman'a ueck. Ing to disengage herself from the affec thing. I’m aure I don’t know wbst elae viceable garments in which you were "Oh. Mrs. Nisbett." she whispered tionate clasp, “thia is my son Stephen, ORIGIN OF WORD YANKEE. probably wont to see him. Robin is no you'd have.” softly, “you are co very, very kind Be and—-why, what’s the matter?” Mrs. Niabett only him .wen-1 by a aigh longer a gardener, and, therefore, you It W m In t:»e in New England a« For Htephen had dropped her hands "I wonder if 'tain’t poaoible Stepbe'll lieve me, 1 appreciate it all. but—but— must anticipate quite an alteration in bis Early a« 17 IX I hardly know how to tell you." with an exclamation of surprise and be hum to-night,” nbe aaid after a pnuae. personal appearance.” Mrs. Nisbett listened intently. Mda j amasement, aud Lida stood there glowing "When you come to think of it there "He writ not. He thought he'd drop "How?—no longer a gardener, mon Is no special reason, no good reason, in arly to-morrow inornin’ if he caught smiled ami cried a little ami then whis crimson. sieur?" iterated Rose, in some surprise. pered so low It was scarcely audible. “Lida! Why. mother, thia la a aur "No longer, my child; he was offered at any rate, why the man from the the train lie expect.-i. Only think, old “1 am going to be married." prise indeed that you have prepared for nn employment of an entirely different north should feel offended when re woman; it'a fire years since Stephs was "Married!" ejaculated Mrs, Nisbett, me!” character, which he immediately accept ferred to as a Yankee.” says a writer bum to Thankagivin".” with all a woman's interest in this Im Old Nisbett rubbed hie horny hands, ed; it was much more congenial to his tal In the New Orleans Times-Democrat. “I prepared!" echoed the astonished portant piece of Information. "And who ents and capabilities, as well as to his "and yet it Is a rattier curious fact that with a chuckle, idding: old lady. "Well, that's a good un, when to?" "And I e'poae. if all accounts la true, Um ten times aa much surprised aa you tastes and desires. He is fast rising in men and women from that section of "Your son lives In Iowa—in Tarllng he's gettin' to be a great man out In the world. Rose;” and the good marquis be! Lida, what <1 om thia mean?" ton?" the country do not like the word when that western country. It was kind of a smiled. "Ah. he will be a great man, "It m.‘ane." said Lid», with ■ demure "Yea.” it is applied to them. Probably the hatvi pull when he went off and left us. some day! You would scarcely recognise smile—she wae beginning to recover her “ Well, did he evev mention the name him now. I’ll warrant. Why. child, this time was when the use of the word but maybe tihe boy was In the right. scattered eelf-pooeoMlon--"it moans that of-------” "Yea," said Mr«. Nisbett dolorously. rustic lover of yours is as great a gen 'Yankee' in the South was meant to this Is the gentleman I am to be married Lida paueed. her cheeks glowing tleman as there is in France this day. carry a sting with It. ‘Yankee trick.' | "but somehow I can’t get reconciled to rosea Old Nisbett had ronw In wWh an to!” The throne itself smiles upon him!” "Htephen!" cried Mrs. Niebett, “is Lida fof instance, and 'Yankee shrewdness' the idea of his marryin' a strange gal armful of wood, bringing a gale with him “He said so.” said Rose, musingly— meant something not exactly agrees qut there." to be your wife?" from the frosty outer world. Joel scratched hie head. Thia waa a "he said so—did he not? that he should "She has given me her protnlae to that ble Just after the war. But all that 1 phase of the subject that he scarcely "I'll tell you by and by.” whispered rise to honor and preferments ami effect, at least.” said Htephen. looking Lida in she went back to her work. is cliangisl now. 1 was thinking more wealth? Yet bow little I imagined that felt competent to diecun». proudly down upon hie lovely little "Joel’ll go ont again arter awhile," particularly of the etymology of the "Maybe you'll like her. Stephen says it would be so soon!” fiancee. thought Mrs. Niehett, "and then I'll hear "Well, you see, I have won my dia won! ‘Yankee.’ I was turning over the ehe'a a nice gal.” "Well, if it don't beat all bow queer "Stephen -aya! As if a man over head about Lida's beau.” monds. Rose." he said, laughingly. “You pages of Skeats the other day when I But Joel eat down before the fire with things do happen!" said M m . NlabMt. shall give them to me on your wedding came upon the word. Yankee was de and ear« in love wouldn't aay anything." a complacent aatlrfactlon which boded her face radiant. "And you’ve been liv "I wish he'd told ue who she was." day. And now. my darling, let us join fined as a ‘citizen of New England or in' neighbor to me these six weeks and Mrs Nisbett groaned again Joel went III for the gratification of hia wife's curl I never knowed it. our friends. They will be waiting for of the United.States.’ and. suggestive Lida, why didn't oeityr, and finally accompanied Lida home, ont to the woodpile, the everyday shrine us.” ly. Is of Scandinavian origin. It was thua frustrating all hia wife's designs you tell me?” whence he generally derived what little And Rose went with him. almost in a “BecauM I never dreamed that Ste and cutting off her chance of hearing of philosophic inspiration be had. state of bewilderment, knowing that she used in Boston as early as 1766. phen lUalngham, my betrothed western I,ids'« story. "In his history of the American war, had not said half she wished ft> say. yet “Mrs. Nisbett!" “Dear nie!" thought M>e. “I don't be lover, waa anything to Mr». Nlabett.” It waa a soft little voice, and the old unable to recall it. or to think anything published in 17H9. Dr. William Gordon lieve the man waa ever horn who know said Lid», laughing. but this sudden revelation of the mar says: 'It was n favorite cant word in lady's face relaxed instinctively aa it •There 'tie. now!” ejaculated the farm ed when he wasn't wanted! How lone Cambridge, Mass., as early as 1713, sounded on her ear*. quis. some it aesma when Lida's gone! What er "How waa ehe to know that he wae "Why. Lida Tremaine — 'tain ’ t you!" (To be continued.) and It meant excellent, as a Yankee does the girl want to get married for only my nephew, adopted when hie par “it 1s. I've done everything that Aunt gissl horse.' It is suggested, too, that when I could ha' took such a eight o' ent» died, twenty good years ago? We've Constance wanted, and now I’ve Just run A Htory of Sacceaa. the word probably spread through 1 over to see if you don’t need a bit of comfort with her? Oh. dear, dear! It always calle«! him son. and he’s alwaya How a single brain could achieve doea seem aa If the world was all >wen a »on to 11». But Lida didn’t know. New England as the result of Its use help." these extraordinary works Is a mys Old woman. wh»t do you say to Ste askew!" by the students at Cambridge. It has She stood In the doorway, a fair little The next day. In spite of the weather phen's wife?” tery. it Is deepened by the fact that gradually l>«i>rae part of the <■0111111011 apparition, all flushed and rosy with the prophet's prediction of snow, dawnrsl Mrs. Niebett clasped Lida to her the Inventor enjoyed a very few edu speech at the country. It seems to be November wind, while her blue eyes clear aud brilliant aa the dying smile of heart. cational advantages. Edison was a related to the law Iaitln 'Yankle,' ! »perkled aa if they were twin sapphire« Indian summer. By II o'clock Mrs. Nla- j "I do say,” ahe ejaculated, "this la the poor boy, anil at the age of twelve be meaning 'a sharp, clever, forward hidden away under her long, dark lashe«. bett saw dressed In her best r.llk snd i thnnkfnlleat Thankaglvln’ I ever lived to came a newsboy on the Grand Trunk Sue waa neither blond nor brunette, but cap. with the turkey browning beauti- j see!”—New York Dally New». woman.' and to 'yanked.' which means road running luto Detroit. Yet even in an agile girl, an incessant talker, a a fresh cheeked girl, with nut brown fully in the oven and the cranberry tsrta these days the terrific Intellectual ac hair, akin like the leaf of a damask rone, doing credit to themselves sa well aa to smart stroke.' We also have a hint of Had lime ft>c Them. a straight, refined nose and lipa as ripe their maker, the table set. the fire high tivity of his character was made mani the word in 'yank,' 'a Jerk, to Jerk.' a as a red crabapple, though by no means Of what are the turkey« thinking heaped with crackling logs and the plates fest. At one time lie had a small la- Out yonder In the yard. smart blow. So 'yanky' means quick, no sour. Generally »lie bad a demure dressed with coronals of autumn leavea I With their red eyre «adly blinking? boratory in the baggage car, w here he spry. 'Yank' Is from the Scandinavian sort of gravity lingering aliout her face, 1 Aunt Constance, a tall, prim maiden Ito you think their fate Is hard? tried chemical experiments. When ho Are they on Ilf'- reflecting •yack.' to talk fast, ‘yalke.' a blow. But but when ehe did laugh a dimple came Indy of uncertain age, atrnsl before the | An<l to bear their Anal call was a telegraphic operator he devoted out upon her cheek and a row of pearly the point I hnd In mind win that there bedroom looking glass arranging her coif Each moment now expecting? all of his leisure time and many hojrs No; turkeys don't think at all. fure. ¡Ada, in n blue dress with a late ' Is nothing offensive alsiut the word In teeth glimmered instantaneously. which should have been given to sleep In one hand she carried a bunch of Its use now. Europeans speak of the late autumn flowers. to the developing of Ideas which wire American citizen, no matter what sec i “Hevshe cried, bolding them np. “I to become great inventions. tion of the United States be halls from, ransacked Aunt I'onatance'e garden for After he had grown famous and opu- as a ‘Yankee.' and they talk about these. I knew that big vaae on the man 'Y’ankee shrewdness' making serious tel needed something, and. with a branch to take life easy, but on the contrary inroads on the trading rights of for or so of scarlet leaves, I'll have a royal threw himself with greater earnest- | eign countries. ‘Yankee’ is a good word bouquet to help you keep Thauksgiving.” It la a poor man, Indeed, who has nothing for which to be thankful. ness into the hard labor of bis calling. | Mr». Nisbett took the fair oval face Hnd the men and women to whom it is Pitiably meager la the life that «-ontaina nothing which on thia day of prayer between her two handa aud kissed the He so begrudged the time consumed in npplle<! either In Its narrow or in its frv-vb 'ittle mouth. ami praise creates a glow of Joy or an Impulse of gratitude. Hliailow la tba eating, dressing and undressing, sleep broad sense are of God.” "Het down, lads.” ahe said. "I wasn’t soul that can refle«-t no auneblne of bleaalngs ami la ever gloomy with wor ing and going from his workshop to n-calcnlatin' to have no aech fitin'a up, ries and wronga. his home at Menlo Park, that he placed | Not Dead. but a New Yorker. but you've ve<h e way, cbibl, 1 can't But there la none auch. The narrowest, the shallowest, the most darkly a tied and dining table In his worksnop. "How clever the ladles of your town never say no to you.” |H-salml«tlc among ua all may eometimee be surprised Into a smile and where he could eat anil sleep without ! “ But yti're going to keep Thanksgiv are!” said Marion Crawford to a West shame«! into at least a whisper of thanks. They who can find nothing elM disturbance, while engage«! upon Im- > ing.” cried Lida, throwing off her outer ern Mayor. to he glad about may at least be glad they are etlll alive and not yet paaaod wrnpp.nca and dancing up to the looking portant experiment».—Frank Leslie’» "Yes?" to that world of gloom and despair eapecially fitted to each temperaments. glaae like a little gale of wind, "because Popular Monthly. "I was the guest of their literary yon Invited Aunt t'onatance and me to The depth of possible human misery has never yet been reached. Per- club. We liad a delightful afternoon dinner and because your eon Is coming A ix-gal Expei thtion. ha pa old Job came neareet to It. and even Job wae no croaker. It la easy home.” An Illinois attorney argued to tbs' with Aristophanes.” to Imagine that old Job. with all ble holla and other troublM, would etlll bo "Indeed! I thought that chap was “Yes, child, yen." said Mrs. Nisbett, court one after another of a series of a lively figure at a modern Thanksgiving service. He would at least find dead," spoke up the Mayor. euheiding once more Into the mournful very weak points, none of which worda of thanks that bla body was no larger and ao could bold no more "No; he ain't dead." added the May key from which Lida's audden appear seemed to the court to have any merit, i bolls. Job would tx poeitirely Jolly In comparison with some of the tiring aroused her. oress; "tee's that Hindu Babu from ance bad momentarily until the court finally said: grouches who exist only In their own little Ilia. “Joel's got the turkey shut op in a coop, "Mr. ----- . do you think there Is any New York.”__________________ It la Mid that man differs from the lower animals chiefly tn bla being and the bakin'« done, and I’m just a-fix- Mark Twain anil a Poet. thing In these points?” able to laugh But the dog's wagging tall, that telle ue be would like to In' them apples, and------- ” To which the attorney replied: "Well, "Oh. oh." med l.lsla. who had flut A new story la going the rounds laugh If be could, prove» him to be txtter In heart than the human grouch Judge, perhaps there isn't much In any | about Mark Ts-aln and a young poet. tered to the window, "what glonoua red who seem» to feel that be could not laugh If he would one of them alone, but I didn't know | “How long doe« It take to get fame leave» ape»-kied o;er with little drops of Cheer up! You cau't »pit» God by refusing to give him thanks. God gold' May 1 make some wreathe for the t>nt your Honor would kind of bunch from a poem?” asked the poet will go right on doing business just the seme But you spite yourself by wall? Oh. please «ay yea" The sage thought ami lu a few min them." - fa»* and Comment. ehutting your eyes to the blessings within yonr reach and by your complaln- Mr». Nisbett »aid “yea”—It would have utes said: been hard work to say "no" to Lida—- 1 Ing you make a nuisance of yourself te everytavdy else. Benefit« of 1 a«-« Inailon. “Well. It takes about four hours to and the girl Mem came in. her apron full Cheer np! One of the very low eat forms of conaelonsneea— that of the Hewitt—Are you a believer In vac write one and nineteen year« eleven of the sprigs of the old maple tree, Bee«! Sprout Instinctively seeks the light, somehow knowing that life la there. cination? months thirty days twenty four hours whose shadowy boughs kept tba • ndow I while deeper down la naught but gloom and death. Jewett-Most certainly; it kept my an<l fifty five minutes to get It pub veiled with enol ehad-.wa through the Ia any nxn to show 1 cm sense and I sm appreciation of the eternal late daughter frttm playing the piano for lished! Then it's a toss tip whether glaring summer days and dio**r*d fad than does the seed sprout? la he alone, of all wonderful creation, to wll- nearly a week—New York Town it's famous or Infamous."—New York ing gold upon the dead grace when the ' fully seek the gloom, to narrow bls mind, to abut off his supply of energies, autmun came Topics. ___________ Tinies. to dam up the aourcea of bis health and to force bla life back through a Mr» Niebett looked with tendorr.eM Africa's Yield of Ivorv. tbonMnd cycle» of evolution and Into a mussel abeil of little woea? We can up>m rhe graee/ul little figure eestad on The n-an who is always telling bow There are annually killed in Africa a m-irb more work lx dors than bis a» the hearth mg. when tba shine of the j all find cause to be glad and thankful If we look for It minimum of •*>.'*•' elephants, yielding high heaped logs lost itself In her bright Thanksgiving day la a good time to throw open the window of the aoul Hcrew the production of a quantity of raw sociates. should be watched. hair and made sparkles la her eyes, a» and look out and np. taking a long, deep draught of the pure air with which loose «omewhere. •h» wrMtha and trails of autumn leaven ivory, the selling price of which 1« M. the heavens are filled the breath of hope and happlneaa grew rapidly fienea'h her deft fingera 2>>.<*»>. ___ It is easier for • me butchers to get Everybody has ranee to be thankful everybody but the turkey, and even "Ibda.” abe said softly, "Lida, my the turkey may be thankful that bls last days were passed In tountaeua Condtwt 1» three fourtbs of life.-Mat • lx bams out of one bog than It la to deer!” lads looked np. get < ne tzuhful word out of some men thew Arnold, e “J sew your Au»t Constance yeeteaday ' plenty. ! A THANKFUL j i THANKSGIVING ; H THANKSGIVING DAY IS A GOOD TIME TOR EVERYONE TO CHEER UP. i i»’Ol -ostisne “it was o wed. »f that' " ate <Jed »