The Bend bulletin. (Bend, Or.) 1903-1931, November 25, 1908, Image 6

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    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.