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About The Bend bulletin. (Bend, Or.) 1903-1931 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 25, 1908)
HThe "Xlhited Cepulchre X The VV Talc of O Pclcc B v Will Levington Comfort , OpjrUht. lVv br Will Leslnttcn Cornet CoprrliM. MB, br J. II. I.terineorr CoMrurr. All rlthts retr?r,t vQ CHAPTlUt XVI. (Continued.) How ntanj tunes fhi blue eje-t of old Ernst rolled hack under th lids and his grip relaxed upon the oars, only to be re called by the pleading voice and the face of tragedy before him: how many time the whipping tongue of Macready mum bled, forgetting Its object, while his senses reeled ainlamt the burning nulls of bis bralu. Low UKiny time the splendid spirit of the woman recalled her own lowlier faculties to action and the terrible mean ing of the quest only Hod and these knew. Hut the little lioat held Its prow to the desolate shore. They gained the Sugar landing nt last, and sttituce sounds came from the lips of nmt. as he pointed to tlie hulk of the launch, hurtled to the water line. Gray covered heaps were sprawled upon the hore, some half-covered by the Incoming tide, mime entirely awash. I'elee had brought down the clt) ; and the fire-tiger had rushed in at the kill. lie was hissing and crunching still, under the ruin. The Ionian moaned ami covered her face. "There Is nothing alive!" she said with dreadful stress. "What else could you luk fur?" Mae ready demanded. "Walt till we get oer th' hill, and joti'il hear th' huml sing In the naygurs laiighln' In the fields an' wonderin' why the milkman don't come." "I mn live yes, I can lite until I see our house crushed to the hill, all coated with paste, and those heapn Ijlng about en the ground! 'A woman can't be a friend like a man ! You will stand and uncoter your heads when you see your friead lying upon the ground and I I will die!" She was walking letween them, up to ward the market place, fighting back her terrors, which added to the burdens of the men. The opened space was tilled with the stone from the bouses, hurled there as from a dice box. elmoke and steam oozed forth from every ruin. The silence was awful as the sight of death. Hue Victor Hugo was effaced, the way up to ward the mome undlscernible. A breath ing pile of debris barred eery way. It was plain that they must make their way outhward along the shore. "If I cud on'y get holt o' that barna cle ar a shark's toot. lugh If I cud on'y get him here wance bare-futted," Denny gasped "sure I'd lie happy lioldln' av him! Ha! don't sthep there!" He pulled her away from a puddle of tincongeated stuff as hot as running Iron, Once he had stepped upon whst teemed to be an ash-covered stoue. It was soft, springy, and vented a wheeiy sigh. Itain and rock-dust had smeared all things alike In this gray, routing shambles. "Speak won't you please speak ?" the woman cried suddenly. "It luks like rain, ma'am," Macready's quick tongue offered. They were on the shore, nearlng the rise of the Morne d'Urange. Saint l'ierre bad rushed to the sea at the last. The mountain bad found the women with the children, as all manner of risltatloua find them and the men a little apart. There was uotblng to do by the way, no lips to molstrn, no tola of pain to hush, no dying thing to ease, I'elee bad not fal tered at the last. There was not an In sect murmur In the air. nor a crawling thing beneath, not a moving wing In the bot gray sky. They Iratersed a shore of death absolute these three and the soman was thinking ahead. From the shoulder of the morne Lara turned back one look, Saint l'ierre was like a mouth that bad lost its pearl. The land ahead was a husk divested of Its fruit. I'elee had cut the cane fields, suck ed the Juices, and left the blasted stalks In his paste. The plantation house push ed forth no shadow of an outline. It might be felled, or lost in the smoky distance. The nearer landmarks were gone homes that bad brightened the morne In their day, whose windows had Hashed the rays of the afternoon sun as It rode down over sea levelled like the fields of cane. There was no balm, no waving grace. I'elee hail swept far and left only his shroud, and the heap upon the way, to show that the old sea-road, so white, wj beautiful, had been the haunt of man. The mango had lost their vesture; the palms were gnarled arid naked fingers pointing to the pitiless sky. She bad known this highway In the mornings, when joy was not dead, when the songs of the tollers and the laughter of children glorified the fields; in the white moonlight, when the sweet draughts from the sea met and mingled with th spice from torrid lulls, ami scent of jas mine ami rose gardens. 'j-1(. dark eyes under the huge helmet were taring ahead; her lip were parted and white. Though they had passed the ra dius of terrific heat, she deemed slowly to be suffocating. Macready remembered bin voice, "Things ore queer by the sea, ma'am. Now, If I'd ha' tuk Pugh lie th' froat I'd be Intertalnln' Mr. Constable presently In the bottom av th' ship, togged out head an' fut In Irons fur th' occasion, an he'd say, 'DInny, why didn't you sthand be th lady whin I tould you? Perhaps you can stand bo th' bunkers bctther, tii son. (Jo to tlilin, ye goat I' Krnst, lad. you're Intertalnln', you'ro loqiii-nchus." The woman waa stepping forward swiftly between them. Words died upon Macready's tongue when he saw her face nd thought of what she would find ahead. He believed that she would keep 1 her word that she would break, brain and body If the mountain had shown no irer.-y at their Joiirnej'a end. And Macready did not hoe. The man to whom lie bad tied his own life would be down like the others, mid the great house about him! All that a soft Irish heart could feel of terror and bcresive meat had waged In his breast for hours. To let the woman succumb among her dead was more than he could bear. The ruins of the plantation house wnv ered forth from the fog. The pra)er lutd not availed; the day still Iked. A swoou ..ad not fallen pitifully upon the woman. He was allowing her to walk forward to her end, this beautiful creature whose courage was more than n man's! Her Angers were upon his sleet e, pulling him forward. ihe had uo need of words from hi in now. Life remained In her to reach the place ahead. She did not want more life, if the dead were there. "Walt, nn'aui!" lie pleaded. "No, no! I cnniiot wait!" 'Tur onld DInny!" "1 thank ou both. You have been very brate and kind; but, Denny, don't keep me back not now! "Let me go tlrsht !" he Implored, har boring the mad idea that he might put something out of her sight, ".No!" she ecrettmed, breaking from him, and rushing forward through the fallen gate. Her cry brought an answer a muffled answer, the olve from a pit. Macready and Krnst plucked at the charred boards in the circle of iiiln. "Peter, King Peter I Where are you. (treat-heart?" she called, laughing, cry ing, picking at her hands. "In the cistern in the old cistern," came the answer. "Why did they let you come here I" "Didn't I tell jou 'twud take more than a spall av a mountain t' slag hair av bin, ma'am?" Macready )clh-d, dancing about the rim. "Are jou burted, sorrl Tell we, are you hurled 1" He was pushed away, and the woman knelt at the rim, bending far down, CHAPTKIl XVII. Constable rested and Mllectcd In the cistern. It tiki not occur to him, save In the most flimsy and pa.slng way, to doubt the efficacy of the distance in the rase of I-ora. She was safe, eight miles at sea, and watched over by Macready, whom he bad learned thoroughly to trust. Here was gladness Immovable. Second, for the present and to all intents, bis own life bad been spared. This was not so impor tant in Itself, but was exceedingly vital In consideration of the third point that she loved him. and had said so. Ills first worry was that Iara might be thinking him dead. The aspect of Constable's mind being touched upon, it may be well to outline the state of affairs as a third party would see it. In the first place, there waa a woman In his arms, a woman whom the fire bad touched and In whom con- stlousnews was not; the mother of the world's matchless girl. Then be was sit ting Uion a slimy stone In a subterranean cell, the Door of which was covered with six Inches of almost scalding water, and the vault filled with steum. The volcanic discharge, showering down through the mouth of the pit, had heated the water and released the vapor. An earthquake years before bad loosened the stone walls of the catern, and with every shudder of the earth, under the wrath of I'elee, the masonry lining the cistern tottered. Then, his band bad been torn during the descent of the chain, and the terrific beat In the well livened his burns to exquisite paiu fulnttas. Hut, as lias been stated, these were mere cuticle disorders, and the heart of the man sang again and agaiu Its tune ful story. I'elee was giving vent to the after pangs. Torrents of rain were descend ing. The man In the cistern had lost track of time. Though replenished with rain, the water was still loo hot to step in ; therefore, he could not change his position and relieve the tension of his arms, .Still, he felt that he owed an as tonishing debt to the old cistern. No sud den Impulse bad brought him there. Since he had discovered the place In his night's vigil, nnd examined It more closely the following day, the Idea had become fixed In bis mind that It might be used at the last minute. The women sighed now and stirred In his arms. The first gripping realization took his mind. He waited In embarrass ment for her to speak. Would the faet that he had sated her life stand ns ex tenuation for bis rough treatment? Con stable was by no means sure that be was not about to hear her estimate of him on the old footing, with the rage of a manhandled woman added the whole a finished document delivered with Mrs. Htunsbury's art and force. Hut she did licit jet nwake. His brain worked rapidly now. She had Iain upou his shoulder during the de scent. Livid dust bad fallen through the orifice. Ills burns were flight. Ills ejes strained Into her face, but the cistern was dark, dark. The fire hud touched her hair he knew that. Her bare arm brushed his cheek, nnd his whole being crawled with fear It seemed that hours elapsed. Where had I'ncle Joey been at the last? Did Pclee tolerate any favorites? Hreen, Soronla, 1'ere Habeaut, Mondet, the ships In the Inner harbor, the thirty thousand of Saint Pierre- were they all wrecked In the trills of the world? Hut the Madam was eight mile; tit sei I Peleo hud watted for the woman, Ills heart of hearts held this Joy. The breath of life was returning to his burden. Sh- sighed otuv more, nnd then, full pityingly, he felt her wince with the pain which consciousness brought. "What Is this dripping darkness?" he heard at last. 'Hie words were slowly uttered, and the tones ague. In a great d.rk room somewhere. In a ost life, perhaps, Constable had heard such a olce from tome one tjlug In the shad ow s. "We are In the old cistern you and I, Peter Constable." Ills tones Nviuiw glad as he added, "Hut jour daughter Is safe at sea !" "Did you forget something, or did l-nra semi jou for her parasol?" "I came for jou came to tell jou how much we needed jou how much we fear ed for jour life, nnd to ask jou onco more- " "What an extraordinary joutli!' she murmured. "Was there etcr such darkness as this?" The iincr n was dark, but not utterly blnck now. The circle of the orifice was sharply lit with gray. "They will come from the ship to res cue us soon. Please please turn your face to the light eo ! Yes that will do!" "Did jou not know- that I am blind, hoj7 How big jou seem! I should think jou would put me down and rest jour arms " Her face bad been turned upwnrd In the descent of the chain ! He steeled him self to snNik steadily. There was a cumulative harshness In that her face, above all others, so fragile, of imrest line, should meet the coarse element. iHirnlng dirt, l'urles IraiHil uam ltltn that be bad not saved tier. "The water Is still hot In the Uutttm of the cistern.' lie said. "My arms are not In the least tired." An Interminable internal passed Iwforc he heard the voice agnln. slower, fainter "And so jou came back for nie ami jmi knew I'elee letter! No. the burns do not hurt terribly. Mj face feels dead. You were not burned so?" This was the moment of dreadful mem ory. Her body, her face. arms, throat, had covered him, as the rusty chain slip ped through his band. The molten stuff had not cracked his flesh Ix-cnnse she had stood between. "I tried to save jou you know that but you kept the fire from me!" Ills voice was broken with rebellion. Then out of n sigh came the words that lived' with him always: "I would have jou know that la Montagne Pelee Is artistic!" (To be continued.) BHARPnWINa A PENCIL. In This Act Vou Mr lleml Mutt's Character, No womnn should mnrry n ninti till she hna hccii lilm alinricii n lend wti ell. She cnti It'll by tlto wny ho dm It whether bo la miltetl to her or not. Hero nn n few lufnlllblc rules for her Kiiblnnco In the matter : Tin man who holds the jtolnt to ward film nnd cloae up Bg.tltiat hl shirt front l alow nml like to linto Kccrctii. Ho la ttio kind of mnii who, when the dtiircat lrl In tlm world find out tlmt thcro nro "otlicra" nnd HHka lilm who they nro nml whnt ho tnenna by cnllltn: on them, will nitaiiiiio mi nlr of excexstvo illKiilty. The ninti who holds tlm pencil out nt nrin'K IctiKtli mid whittle) nwnjr nt It, lilt or iiiIkh, la Impulsive, Jolly. Kisxl-nntiirtsl nml kviiituiin. He who Iciivih n blunt xilnt la dull mid plodding, nml 'will wu-r ntiioiiut to much. I In la reiilly kihhI nntiirisl, but find Ida rhlcf pliiisiircrt In tho cominiinplniv UiIiikh of life. lie who hhiiriu'iiH his pencil nn Inch or nioru from the iMilnt In high strum; niwl Inmglnntlve nnd subject in mil Iterant IIIkIiIh of fniiey. He will nl- wnjH lw accklns: to mount upwnril nml ncomipllah thins In the higher re KlnriH of htiHlticim nml nrt. mid hlx wlfe'a crenteat trouble will be to hold It I in ilnwn to enrlli nnd prevent Ills llyltiK off iiltoKi'ther on n tniigoiit. Tho mini who ahiiriH'na IiIm pencil nil nroiuul mnootlily nnd evenlj', iin tliougji It wiih plunisl off In nn auto matic nhnriMMr, la aystemntle nnd alow to nnger, but lie la o iindevlotlnx from n fixed prlnclplo flint lie would drive n womnn with n aeiiHltlve tem perament to distraction In lias thnn alx montlia. On tho contrary, ho who Jumps In nml leaven the shnrpewsl wood nn Jagged iih wiw teeth nrouml tlio top linn n nnsty lumper nml will Hpnnk tho bnhy on tlm Hllgliteat provo cation, Tlm mini who doesn't Htnji to polish tlm point of load once the wood Ih cut away Iihh ii Htrenk of cimrHcnewi In IiIm nntiiro. Uo who hIiiivim off the. lend (111 the point Ih llko il needle Ih refined, ilnll cnto nml hciinIHvu. I Id will not bn likely to nccoiiipllHli ho miic-li iih IiIk more common brother, hut lie will never Hhock you, nml Ih without doubt n Rood mini to tlo to. New York 1'ronr To lie Kiitt't. "Oeo whlzl Hero'H tho rnln rniiilnjf down niiln and BomelHidy'H Htolen my iimhrelln." "Hoinehody'H Htolen whnt?" "Well, tho umbrella I've, been carry- Iiik for tho InHt two weeku." I'hllu dclphla PriiM, A BONCI 01' THAlfKSaiVlNQ. I'm thankful that the jests art longr ItoHsrer long they be. Ther till ar laborers glsd and strong That ever work for me. This, roe I rut with rsrulrm shears And wear and rsst sway -Th cosmos nroititlit a million years To make II mine a ilsr. This Illy iy I lie psstut bsrs llenesth I tie walnut trre, lnns ere th lHnill formsd In stars, Was on Itt wsy to me. Tlis laws of property sre 1st My ntlstiNir's tsrm It flu) I'm thankful, though lis psjrs the tsi, The I'est of tl It mine. No sheriff s eluteh enu loots ihr grip On fields I lists not sewn Or shake mjr tent of ownership In things I tin not own I'm thankful for my nelghWs wooit. Ills offltsnl, Iske, sn,l les i for, while lujr ejet cuntlnu gool, I own all 1 can see. I'm thankful for this mUhty sie. The il)t tjtul compare. When hope Is tu,'li a herllsge Ami lire s Urge sITslr. We Ihsnk the godt for low and high, HUM, wrung iss well we msrl, I'or all the wrotu of lists gone by U'orkt s,Mlnt for lo-tlsj. Here on Time's lalilelsnd we psui To think on l-emM kites. To Ihsnk th gixlt for all that was. Ami It, and It lo be. I'm Ihsnkful for th glow srnt gntrs And winsome leaiitr of the Nesr, Ths greslnett of Ih reHtatonplse. The slory of th Here I'm thankful for wsn's high emprlas. Ills stslwsrt ttiirdtness of twit, Th long lo-.k of his skyward ')' That tlshtt a fsrot gixtl Ami s,t I feel lo Ihsnk ami Mett Hath thlmt unknown sal itmlertteod' Anil Ihsnk Hi stubborn thmkfulnett That itukMh all thlnjs foot -flsm Walter Pots, In Muceets Mtjsitn. sM-H--M----l--r-M--h.' Mrs. Pcssinglll's Thanksgiving Dinner. WHH-l-rHHfvY "The times Is bad." sighed Mrs. Pettln gill, looking as lugubrious at II was pot slble for a roty-rheked dumpling of a woman to look. "That's so." assented her friend. Mary Ann Dawson. "Pa says "single misfortunes never com alone,'" continued Mrs. PeltlNglll. "I'ust. he lost that little bit o money he got for the med.ler-land. I iM him 'twan't safe to put It In the bank. Then old ltrln dle up an' dlel, so we have to buy out milk. An now Sjw llllnes young ones hev all cttme down with th mestles, an' Sam's out of a Job; so, of course, pa can't collect rent from him." "Seems to me Deacon Pettlngllt don't worry much 'bout hit hard lurk,' sug gested Miss Daw tun. "Ia, not II tsys the Iird will pro vide; but I tell Ii til the lnrd expects folks lo look out for themselves a little." And the good woman worked away with re doubled enerby on lift Ixsltpread that th and her friend ware engsged In o,u!ltlng. The quilting frsm was set up In the "front room." and Its mlstrvts felt a par donable pride In th red and green lhr. ply carpet on th floor, ami the s.miW fcslr-cloth furniture ranged against Ih walls In uncompromising stiffness. "I declare, Mrs, Pettlngllt." said th spinster, aftr a while, "yon look all beat out. I'm 'frald you'r workln too stlddy. It's kinder hard on you doln' this extry work Jutt at Thanktglrln' ilui." "Kf you'll heliev It, 1 ain't done noth In' for Thanktglvln'." "Wbatl ain't din no cook In' J" gasped Miss Dawson, to whose New Htigland soul this breach of a tlm-honored otnerrance was little less than sacrilege. "Not a mite," replied Mrs. Pettlnglll. "I wasn't reckonln' on doln' much, time beln' so bard; then Joel look a notion that I.lty Jans must go to his folk for Thanksglvln' week, so I jett made up my mind not to worry over th cookln'. I bad calc'lated on roastln' a turkey or a couple of chickens, but when I asked pa which he'd rilther her, he siys, Mett 11' her some nice codfish, wit It boiled beets and fried pork sauce, cli as we utter her years ago," "I'or the land's sake! Why, I nerer heard of such a thing -that Is, for Thanksglvln'," stammered Miss Dawson. WHO SAID PUMPKIN PIEf THE ANNUA! "Nor nobody else, I guest," said Mrs. Pettlnglll. btiMtlttig with Uughier. "Hill. j-oii see, l.liy Jane Jutt 'Utuilnatet nst rltli, so we ain't had none I don't know when; and tier pa's or fill fond of It." "IV-ar. dear!" thought Miss Dawson. In silent horror. "I should say they bed felt the bard thttes. I guess I orler go. IW soul!" she said to hrrtvlf, as she walked homeward; "she carries It off well, lull they mutt ! dretful nr.' "I womler what makes Mary Ann Daw still art so ipier," sollltild Mrs. Pel llnglll. "I s'ait. It must b hecaut she's an out-an'-out old maid." "Wall, mother," sld Deacon Pettlnglll on Thanksgiving morning, "I hop jou ain't goln' lek on lhal etKlfith dinner?" "Dear. nn. pa, hut It It an orful ijuwr dinner. I've half a mind lo make an In dlan pudding to keep th rodrlth com IHtny." "Jutt th thing." declared the deaeon. with a satisfied air. At that moment there ram a routing knock at the door. It was little Tommy Tompkins, who llttl close by. He hut brought a two ijuart pall of cranberries. "L'nrl John snt ma a bnshl of cran b'rles," h tld bashfully; "an' ma 'lowed you might Ilk to taste of 'em, 'cause thy'r Cape Cod cranb'rles," "Thst was reel kind of yer ma," said Mrs, Pettlngllt, as th emptied th pall and filled It again with rosy'Cheeked ap ples. "There! Mbb yer ma wouldnl mind herln' a few of our None-surhes; sn' I'll fill yer pockets with butt. milts," th. added. Ilefore th good woman could prepar hr codflih and vegetables for cooking, sh saw Parmer (lltnon's old while hors ami jellow market wagou stopping In front of th door. "Wall, I'm In someibln' of a hurry." said the fanner, a Utile awkwardly, tak ing a big parcel from his wagon as h spoke, "I was nn my way hnni from Wrslbury market, an' I Jest thought nielt Ihi you could use this turkey I had lfl over." "Why, I dunlin but what I'll take It off jrr hands," said Mrs. Pmtlnglll. "I ain't askln' yer tor buy It, .Mrs, Pettlnglll," said th bluff farmer, with Inrrenslng confusion, "I wanter glr It ter yer. I couldn't tell It nohow," he added, "an' It would Jest .pile." "It certainly It good of yer," said Mrs, Pettlnglll. "Hut you mutt let m give jou a keg of our new elder; It's Jest right for drinking." Scarcely was the dinner well under way rf5"SW t " Js5-"InX I cin o I -Tty. j.f- ,', ,,, ,, s.ri .a. m TIIAQEDY! when Ibere wat another knock, and MU Crshsiu. Ibe ntlitlsler's Kill lUugttl-r, made her appearance with a basket on her arm, "Oh, Mrs. Pettlnglll." th rrM. eagerly, "gramttn sent ns snsst of hr ry own mlm pl.t for Tttsnktglvlng. and mamma wsnis to know If jow wotlldn't ai-eepl two of Ihem wllh her lote?" "Wall, I neter!" rJeuUtr.t Mrs. Pel tlMglll. "Twst MeeomatoH kind in your mother. I'll Jt til J our batket with applet ami UitlertiHlt.' Pit mlaiiles later pretty Tills llraham, wb.1 lltett next oWr to Miss Dawson, pre--Hle,l herself wllh a bplg dlth of hot iblllcltHHIt. "Mthr was trjlag a Mew rcWp," th young girt shl, "sn she thmiiht )ou wouldn't ml ml kr sending jmi a' few, ss jou wss to buiy." "I swum! that looks someihln' like," uld the deaeon at b ram hum from rhiirrh. Ills wlf prudently refrain.! front mtntlonlHg th rsrlMit ibHisthiiit. Hit cutigratulattd lirrmlf that as It was now put noon they wihiM probsbly ! allowe.1 lo din lit pear. Vain delusion! Scarcely were they satel at the tab) when Mlts Dswsou apiared, bearing a dellcloiis looking rhlrken pl. "Ywi see," the said, hreatblestty, "I knew ; on hadn't no tlm for rhlrken fit In', so I Jett baked this pie wbrn I bed the oven bet up" "I'm tur you wss Jutt as thoughtful as you could be. Mist Dawson," rttirn.1 Mrs PeitlHglll, "An' I'll accept Ih pi. f you'll stop an' help us eat It." After some urging the tpllnt.r conwlit eil. ami out of compliment ta her ths ehlrken pre was est I. Hut as she glance! at th platter of risky oslflth, cooked lo Jutt Ih right degree of tenderness, fiankea ly dishes of crimson lett, mealy polsloe. an.) festhery biscuit, she confette.1, "I do believe I'd fulher her smile of lhal than Ih pie." And when sh had llMilird her repast with a tilth of Mrs. PetllngiU'a golden-lirnwn Indian pudding she declared, "I diiiino when I'vs rellihed a meal so much," "Jett com here a mlnnlt," said Mrs. Prltlnglll, conducting her guest to lb pantry, after the deacon had gun out. "Now, whatever do you 'f I th meaning o' thst?" and she pointed to lh array of eatables with a look of perplexity on hr rosy face. "I'or the land's sakes I" cried the spin slrr, blushing guiltily. Mrs, Pettlnglll surveyed her visitor womterliigly, "Why, you don't mean to say" ah began, snd then sh burst Into a laugh, "Mary Ann Dawson, 'must think jou'ro a gooae." she said, when she had recovered her breath. "Do I look 's though I didn't her 'liough ter eat?" "I never said any such a thing," slam mered Mitt Dawson. "I jes happened to mention m th minister's wife an' Mlts Oraham 'Immii your lln so busy; an' you know jou was Inlkln' considerable 'bout the hard limes an' an' Hie codfish," faltered Mt Dawson, "lint nvr thought " "U! jou needn't take It to heart," In terrupted Mrs. Pettlnglll. "Hut I dasn't lell ni. llowsumever, I guess I glte 'em as good ns limy sent. There's one thing I can't make mil, though, an' that Is 'hoot dinner (ilhson, lives n good two miles from here, to he couldn't very well hear nti) thing," "Mujba I can explain that," said Miss Dawson, wllh n conscious blush, "You see, Mr, (llbson and ine-s calcnlalln' to get married "bout Christinas lime." "Well, cf that don't Isutt alll" ejacu lated Mrs. Pettlnglll. "1 guess he'll be a real good provlilor. an' I'm sunt 1 bona you'll lie happy. Now, a'poso he might h roinlit' over to your house to-ulghiY" "I spose ha might," returned Ml Dawson, "Well, ef you'll Jest get lilm to call an' tako them donations over to Ham lllg glnses' we won't say nnnthur word 'bout 'em, Well, I do declare." sollloipiUed Mrs, Pettlnglll, after her friend hud gone. "Kf that don't beat all. And lilm a con finned old bachelder. and her an oul-nit' out old maid." People's Houia Journal.
