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
»