Evening star. [volume], May 14, 1910, Image 23

About Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972

Image provided by: Library of Congress, Washington, DC

                
LlROSS the narrow
> street, -raved with
*WKKT' cobblestones
D y A^k amons whicli the
? grass sprouted.
stood the old bricic
church with its
0M I IS solitary gable surJ
II mounted by
v primitive bell towV
er. When the bell
* <8> 17 tolled Aliss Penrose's
abode across
the way vibrated, and so did the doughnuts
on the baker's counter underneath,
for Miss Penrose lived over the bake
shop.
When the rickety depot carriage swung
up before Miss Penrose s nouse, Aurora,
within It, sat looking about In speechless
rapture. The ancient hackmcn climbed
down from his perch and breathed : :
upon her an air of mingled whisky and
peace.
"You're here, mem," he said, and Aurora
looked at him with such an engaging
smile that he coughed confidentially behind
a very dirty hand and added: "She
do have the queerest folks come visItsn*.
One's owln* me a quarter two
years come August. He writes poetrv.
I wouldn't have her know for nothin'l"
and he released her. Auro-u flew up
the narrow stairs.
"The old Aurora end t'.e young Aurora!"
and the was held at arm's length,
and the old Aurora looked at her with
? itical eyes Just a little weary.
"I wouldn't mind being old if I were
as distinguished as you avei" and young
Aurora flung her arms about her aunt.
Miss Penrose winced a little.' "So it
s?< ms that am reall.- old? I zr.y it over
. -VMB
??>*< ever to myself, but I have never
quite believed it."
"If I'm only as nice as you when I'm
as old "
"For Heaven s sake, child, that Will do.
It only proves that an old Aurora is absurd.
I abhor the name, b..t." she said
Bayly, kissing her niece, ' may you live to
be an old Aurora of a hundred."
"What a heavenly place!" said young
Aurora, sinkng into a low chair an 1
aighinB vdth joy. It was a queer, curving
room with flv. windows fu!i of plants
There was a littered desk and a low'
table beside a co ch, and on ti.e wide
hearth a driftwood tire blazed with green
nnd scarlet and golden tin rues, while the
early summe- sun flickered through thu
vines at the windows.
"What a heavenly place!" young Aurora
repeated.
a;i mi ,1 u-i -n r ui - n ut v; . v??
come to your room. Ah. child. I'm glad
you have come; I need jouth about.
You see i had net :y forgotten that I
was growing old."
From the balcony of M'.ss Penrose's
-vm-kshop you cou!l ;ook down the winding
river just pajt tie Whitby lighthouse
to the ocean.
*
* a
Miss Penrose pioclaimed her supreme
indifference to the social unR-nities when
she moved into the old house on the
wharf with a bakesr.o underneath, which
flavored the atmosphere with doughnuts.
"I shall buy the house from the baker
if I can." Miss Penrose said to Aurora,
"and I mean to live hire and die here.
You will inherit I* after I am cremated?
remember. I wish to be cremated." and
she paused In the war.hlng of her brushes.
She had on a long calico paint-splashed
pinafore and there was a tired look in
her face. On the easel stood her last
work, a sunlit spring landscape with
apple trees In g'orious blossom and a
pool reflecting the spring iky?and there
T/as a touch of chill iu the srleador of
the sky.
"You see, *t is the youth of the ji-ar,"
she explained, "and youth is always a
Mt ?ruel."
Please don t!"
"D?a't what, child?'
"Tglk of ojing," and Aur ra shivered.
:p
[T~g
"Why not? Ii is the most interesting
experience in life?the only experiment
each makes for h'mself. Sometimes i
long for the time. I am a little tired of
my own body," she said. "It has stood
between me and happiness. "
Aurora stared at her aunt. To be tired
of one's own body?it was beyond her.
The young Aurora', body was a particularly
agreeable one. "You must have
been a very fascinating woman," she
said. "I am sure many men have been
in love with you."
"Not just with me, child, but with my
mind. Nevertheless it's very kind of
you. There, run down and see if that
was the postman."
- The balcony w as shielded by a Japanese
screen and in one corner stood an
easy chair. Miss Penrose leaned back
among the red cushions and stared down
the river.
9
9 *
"Dear aunt, here is a letter?such an
interesting hand.
A faint blush crept into Miss Penrose's
face. "It should be, for it is from Roger
Lythgoe."
Not the noet?" and young Aurora's
eyes were round with wonder and reverence.
' Yes, the great Roger Lythgoe." Miss
Penrose took the letter, but she looked
ahst^itly at the girl. "Aurora, if I could
have a wish fulfilled it would be to be
you?to look like you."
"But aunt, dear, think of your min 1
and mine?I am so commonplace."
"1 know it." and Miss Penrose opened
her letter. Young Aurora had a modest
opinion of her own mind?she acquiesced.
"Aunt Aurora, how I should like to sei
\ ^ ^ I *
:':%m
him! I never saw a real pott."
"Well, he threatens to come," and Miss
Penrose frowned.
"Oh. how beautiful!" Then Aurora's
face fell. "But he wouldn't notice me."
"I don't know?you never can tell," and
the line, down lines on Miss Penrose's
mouth stood sharply out.
"What is he like?"
"I never saw him."
"Never saw him!"
"He came once two years ago, but 1
had gone away."
"And lie was so disappointed that he
forgot to pay the hackman," and Aurora
laughed. "How I want to see him?but
I'd have no chance with you about?poor
eoinmonplace me!" The wind was fluttering
the skirt of her white gown and a
red gauze scarf she had tied about her
dusky hair. She was wonderfully pretty.
"But tell rac, aunt," what is Mr. Lythgoe
like?"
"lie writes that he is the homeliest
man ever made. Are you preparing to
fall in love with him, Aurora?" Miss Penrose
laughed, but there was a sharp ring
In her voice.
Miss Penrose sat at her desk writing
and Aurora watered the plants. She put
each on the window-sill and deluged it
nnreflect inirl v. The house vihrateri
as the old church across the way boomed
the hour.
"If you wish to respect time, have it
measured off."' said Miss Penrose. "The
bell says an hour is dead; it will never
come back again."
"Who cares:" said young Aurora.
"Wait till the hours grow scarce."
"When I'm as old as you. perhaps."
Miss Penrose winced.
"You are not commonplace, Aurora; you
have a way of putting things."
a
* *
Aurora was glad that her distinguished
aunt did not consider her commonplace,
and she watered the flowers with renewed
enthusiasm, when up from the street
tneic came a deep growi, and Aurora
thrust her bright face among the pots and
fell back with a gasp of frightened
amusement. "I poured the water right
on his head." she gasped; "such a funn;y
little man?look at him!" The victim below
w as rnopp ng his hut and face. "I
believe lie is rooted to the spot?why
doesn't he go away?"
Miss Penrose looked through the ivy
trellis. The victim of the watering pot a
was still looking up, his damp hat in tl
his hand and his white Hair glistening sc
in the afternoon sun. "Child, I think you a
have really made a conquest." h
"That old thing?" and Aurora flung her- r<
self into a chair and laughed hysterical- 1
ly. just as the door bell gave a sharp
peal- ti
"He's angry, and he's come to " and 11
Aurora turned pale.
"My dear, if you will pour water over
elderly gentlemen, you must take the
consequences," and Miss Penrose retreat- c\
ed. laughing, just as the hall door opened y
and the little maid servant ushered In a p
short, stout elderly man, whose gray .b
beard lay on his portly breast as on a h
salver. Aurora rose and stared apprehensively
at her victm. A
"Aurora!" he cried passionately, and S]
took her long, slim fingers in his own. n
"At last!"
Aurora stared at him with frightened
brown eyes. a
"I knew you at once," he said. S
"You knew me at once," she faltered. lc
"When I saw your beautiful face among
the flowers " ci
, Aurora recovered herself and smiled, w
lie might be insane, but he was certainly 01
civil. "1 knew it must be Aurora Pen- y<
rose?this was the face of my dreams, it
But why," he cried reproachfully, "why w
did you persist in maligning yourself?"
"Forgive me," young Aurora said, in c!
polite perplexity, "if I ask who you are?" f<
He turned quite pale. "Can you not r<
guess?" he faltered. "Did I not prepare
you to see the ugliest man God ever s]
made, and did you not say it was the w
man and not the face?"
"Oh. dear me! I am afraid this is all a b
dreadful mistake!" w
"A mistake? How is that possible? lo
Surely you are Aurora Penrose?
"Yes, I am Aurora Penrose?'' i<
"Mod be praised!" 11
"But so ie my aunt." si
Me sank upon the nearest chair and
Aurora lingered, her hand on the door
knob. She was sorry for him, she knew et
the disillusion in store for him.
"Who shall I say?" she asked gently. lu
"Roger Lythgoe." tl
* tl
. * * IT]
Young Aurora gasped. Site looked at a<
him as at a vision. He seimed taller y<
and slimmer and his eyes were Quite sj
beautiful behind the gold spectacles. As y<
for the great poet, he vouchsafed her not
another glance, but bent all his energies SI
to rubbing the nap of his ruined hat. He ol
was still at it wnen Miss Penrose came m
in, and for a moment they stood and ui
looked at each other in silence. sc
"Do you find me disappointing?" Miss hi
Penrose asked abruptly. M
"Let me rathQr ask, do you find me so?" al
They looked at each other again and h<
neither spoke. Then they both blushed. h<
Her last letter he always carried in his gi
breast pocket, and its very touch had al
made him quiver?how often he had ct
kissed the fine, clear writing! His fore- 8]
head grew damp at the mere remem- ra
brance, and somehow he could not see sj
himself in future carrying about the cor- ?i
respondence of this elderly lady. As for C
Miss Penrose, she remembered with a h<
kind of horror the long evenings she had cc
dreamed away on her balcony, his let- it
ter her only companion, reading the pas- hi
sionate utterances of the man she had y<
never seen. ? ni
It was Miss Penrose who first recovered in
herself. "So, after two years, I at last cc
see the poet," she said, politely. U<
And I the distinguished artist," he added,
with a forced smile. "Your pictures A
are poems without words; mine were sc
needless."
"I had just sent you a letter begging m
you not to come," she exclaimed abruptly
ai
FACTS AB<
THE reading room of the Congres- p'
sional Library, with the entire *a
range of the .world's literature at sj;
one's command, is popular with Wash- d<
ingtonluns and others who are here from P?
a distance. Although perhaps it is not
known to*every one, it is a fact of some <-.i
interest that every member of the llbrar- ai
ian's force is a college man. The per- o.t
son whom one sees handing out light ?'
juvenile fiction has undergone a collegiate
training, which, though possibly of th
little use in this instance, may stand him re
well in hand when the neat reader arrives,
asking for directions for securing ^
a copy of Justus Frederick Karl Heck- m
er's "The Epidemics of the Sfiddle Ages," pt
or some other equally rare and heavy E:
work. These patient, faithful, obliging
librarians who wait upon young girl ^
readers seeking Gibson s "The Passing th
Show," with the same polite and tlior- an
ough attention with which they respond J1'
a ^ A I th
iu me applications oi Htuaemi ana men jn
of learning, are. mupy of them, men of
considerable learning of literary accomplishments.
Richard Johnson speaks and
reads French quite as well as he does
English, and If a Frenchman unable to tii
speak or understand a word of English th
were to drop into the library reading fl
room lie would perhaps experience less
difficulty in securing what he desired
than if he were in Paris. The others are oi
also able to read French and German, in m
addition to English, this being one of the ?0
requirements under which they hold their .
places. In addition to this, however, Mr. 01
Johnson is able to speak French as well y*
as a native of Paris. Frank Reynolds ?r
speaks excellent Spanish and usually attends
to the wants of visitors from the ol
republics of Latin America. In
* pi
A
? . pt
l.ouls Solyom. however, is perhaps the di
most accomplished linguist in the library. 01
He speaks ten languages and reads in a
still larger number.
He Is one of the few Americans who u
are able to read and speak the Chinese, th
Japanese. Turkish. Hungarian and Polish af
languages. ? and. among other duties, at- th
tends to the cataloguing of works in the cc
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZI^ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZJU
rltesfv
a
/HEN A
GE W J
BY ANNA . EIC
"Why?"
"I don't know, but I was right."
Mr. Lythgoe had fought a gallant tigl
nd was recovering his equanimity. "An
tiis is the room you have so well d<
bribed to me," and he looked curiousl
bout. "How often I have longed to t
ere and In its peace and silence 1
sad to you, first of all the world, wht
had written."
Would she expect liini to explain e>
avagant passages in his correspondence
t would be very embarrassing if she dh
. *
* *
"Come up to my balcony." site sah
itli a slightly sarcastic smile; "thei
ou will find plenty of subjects ft
oems." He climbed heavily after he
reatliing short and mopping his for<
ead.
In the corner of the balcony youn
urora lay among the red cushions. Sh
nrane uu with glowina color. She wa
id lan 1.
"Is it not rather sudden, Aurora?"
"Oh, no, aunt?six weeks." There wy
touch of condescension about Auror:
he was Irving' to explain the A B C t
>ve to a backward old child.
"Just think: he said; and the prett
alor flushed to her bright eyes, "that
as his inspiration." Miss Penrose close
ne eye and examined her canvas. "An
et you remember you said I was core
lonplace. I told him that you said
as commonplace," and Aurora poute<
"That was a mistake on your par
hild, for he has at least a great respec
>r my?mind. He will remember lha
smark."
"It was then that he said I was his ir
r?iratlon," Aurora cried, triumphantly
hile Miss Penrose scraped her palett<
"Then see that you attend strictly t
usiness," and she made a rasping soun
1th her knife, "for the poem he rea
ist night was simply atrocious."
"Oh. aunt, how can you I" Miss Per
>se paced the studio, triumphantly jing
ng the keys in her apron pockets. "
lull certainly tell him what you said.
"Tell him, by all means!"
"And poets are so sensitive, and 1 want
1 him to look up to you like?a son."
Miss Penrose stopped suddenly befor
sr niece. "Aurora, we will draw the lin
lere. Roger Lythgoe is five years olde
rnn I am, and I don't propose to burde;
lyself with a ready-made son of tha
je. Marry him by all means?but i
>u value his reputation don't be his in
dration! Come to think of it, what an
ju marrying him for, anyhow?"
"He is so distinguished," said Aurora
tie was answering a question she ha<
'ten asked herself. "Besides, he adore
e, and 1 never cared for young men.
jed to learn his poems by heart a
liool?the girls raved over them. It wil
i such fun going back to visit them a
rs. Roger Lythgoe. I shall give then
I his autograph. 'Mrs. Roger Lythgoe'jw
well it will look on a card?'A
>me from S to 10.' I shall go out i
eat deal, for I shall want to help liin
1 I can. Roger?to think that I shal
ill him Roger?means to stop over h
ir'ingfleld to see father. He is going to
orrow. We shall be married in tin
>nng," ana Aurora blushed an*
>arkled. "But I wish lie didn't live ii
alifornia. I hate to write. He say
s'll need my letters for inspiration. O
rurse, he tells me everything now, an*
seems that some one has been wrltinj
m the heavenliest letters these last tw<
?ara?a woman, of course. He said h<
?arly made a fool of hiraBelf and fel
t love with a mind?fancy! But, o
turse, this is the end now; it wouldn'
> for him to raise false hopes."
"I do wish he were as tall as I am.'
urora confessed uneasily; "the girls a
ihool are such ones to notice."
"Leave him at home. You have hi
ime and you can take Ids autographs.'
"Aunt Aurora, I sometimes think yoi
e very sarcastic. Roger does. lie say;
3UT CON
ilnese. Turkish and other orients
nguages owned by the library.
Mr. Bablne speaks and reads the Rus
an and Slavic languages as well as h
>es in English, cataloguing all work
lnted in these tongues which come t
ie library, for, although the numbe
! Washington people who read Russlar
tiinese. etc.. is rather limited, still ther
e enough of them to render the pur
1A8A nnrl lfoonino- nn r%f a rmmlui
* was *-?a (a hwikwv
' works in the languages just mention
I. as well as in Turkish, Japanese, Hun
irian and Finnic, a necessity. Amoni
lose who patronise the library readitu
>om, and who read in Chinese as wel
i in English, may be mentioned Williar
roodville Rockhill, and several other
ho have served in the navy and diplo
atic service. Of the total number o
itrons who read in languages other tha
nglisli, those who have mastered Frenel
id German are in a decided majority
Ime was when the number of peopl
tmer'ransi who could read in Russiar
te most difficult of all European lan
j&ges. amounted to very few, indeed
it owing to the growing importance o
ie Russian empire and people interes
this peculiar tongue is on the increase
*
* *
In the matter of preference, history ha
ie greatest number of devotees amom
ie readers at the Congressional Library
:tion coming second.
Now. and for some tune past, nearl
le-half of the number of readers in th
jrary reading room come here to rea<
iwn histories, genealogies and that clas
' works which during the past tw
>ars have appeared in such numbers
id which deal with historic towns, fam
es. etc., of the different groups of state
' the Union. Such subjects have becoin
intensely popular of late years, and peo
e who. ten years ago. probably did no
low the names of their great-grand
irents. and possibly cared less, arc to
ty poring over old directories, gcneal
ties, town histories and the like, in cf
irts to scratch up a distinguished un
stry. And Hons and Daughters of tlx
merlean Revolution and kindred organ!
itions have l>een largely responsible fo
its, and many of those who evenlni
'ter evening may be seen rummaging
rough literature of this character ari
ntemplating joining one or the othei
<3H8R!T^Tt
\S VICT
:hbergking.
that you ""are not quite what he expected.
He thought you would be sadder?more
tt poetic."
d "Did lie, indeed?"
-- "He thinks you are a little unfeeling,
ly but he did say that you don't show it in
>e your work, and that your illustrations to
0 hi? poems two years ago were much
it mora beautiful than the poems. He is
so generous, you know." Miss Penrose's
t- blue eyes grew soft. "But he was a little
i? disappointed."
3. "Was ho?" and Miss Penrose recovered
herself. "Well, so was I, child, and you
can tell him so! That is, you needn't!"
1, site added hastily.
e The next day Aurora paced the railway
>r platform beside her poet. It was a dingy,
r, dirty place with an overwhelming aroma
2- of decayed fruit and coal dust, the last
place for the parting of lovers. Aurora
R wished that everybody could know how
le distinguished lie wus. for she was conis
scious that he was rather short.
Roger Lythgoe drew Aurora behind a
protecting baggage truck. "Write me
is every day, my darling! I am a mpody
i. man, and for my work and happiness I
if shall need the hope and the faith in myself
that only love brings. I am ashamed
y of my folly, but I can't tell you what
1 those letters were to me these last tw?>
d years. And an absolute stranger, child!
1 What shall 1 not expect from you, my
i- life, my love, my hope of heaven!" He
1 crushed her lingers in a passionate clasp.
1. "God bless you, my darling,' good-bye!"
t, and he pressed her hand to his lips an!
a tore himself away.
it She stood there watching the train and
rubbing her hands,
i- He thrust his head out of the window,
and the sunlight was reflected from his
?. spectacles and made his white hair
< > c list en
d Sorr.2 one spoke to her. She tried to
d look melancholy?sbe felt she ought to.
It ws.s one of the handsome young men
i- in tennis flannels.
"You are Miss Penrose," he said, smil1
ing. "I am Robert Merlton. My sisters
" called on you, but you weren't in."
"I have been much engaged lately," Au.
rora said with elderly ulfablllty.
"Yes, with that old gentleman."
e "That gei.Jeraan," and she ignored Ahe
. offensive adjective, "is Mr. Roger Lythr
goe?Roger Lythgoe, the pcet."
a "By Jove, you don't say so! I remember
t learning! his pieces by heart when I was
t quite a little shaver, and gettttg^-apanked
. when I couldn't remember 'em. So that's
q Roger Lythgoe? But I aay. Miss Penrose,
will you play tennis this afternoon?"
i "Yes, I will play," she said, very sobg
crly, to balance the confession, and she
I felt a little guilty because he strolled
t home beside her.'
1 Her aunt was on the balcony; there
a was a dreary look in her blue eyes and
1 she sighed. The slam of the front uoor
_ and two young voices roused her; then
I Aurora burst into the room breathless
i and eager. The young man was patiently
, waiting downstairs.
1 *
:t * * '
"And so your dear poet lias gone, my i
e child," and she drew her toward her. |
1 "And what will you do now? You must ,
i not cry your pretty eyes out." s
s "I am going to play tennis with the
f Meritons. That's what I came to tell
1 you,"?Aurora wis breathless?"Mr. Meri;
ton is waiting below," and she was gone \
a like a flash.
? Miss Penrose looked down again at the
1 river. It was so peaceful, so beautiful,
f but a pretty little naphtha launch broke
t the silence and scooted about nervously. 1
"To come on the wings of love and to <
' return in a naphtha boat!" and she ]
t laughed, but without mirth. She took a f
package of letters from under the red j
s cushion. "Shall I send them back? No, 1
* he will be conceited enough to rejoice be- s
a cause I kept them. Shall I destroy them? 1
s No, why should I? They are from a i
GRESSIONAL
I of the organizations above mention- j
ed. They are thus seeking a revolu- 1
l" tionary ancestor upon whom to base their i
e application, or else they arc members of
? the said societies looking up the record J
? of those who are seeking membership. ;
,r One would also be surprised at the <
' large number of people who resort to the t
library reading room to spend tneir ,
evenings reading works on hypnotism, t
r table rapping, theosophy and -lndred <
" subjects. The interest in such matters is i
" intense and far-reaching, and despite the ?
5 advanced state of learning and science <
* it is astonishing to witness the large num- f
II ber of those who every evening call for l
n works on the subjects aforementioned.
s The Congressional Library, like all ini
stitutions of considerable age, has quite
f a number of old patrons, persons who
n have called regularly every evening for
h the past twenty or thirty years. Some of ,
them have been coming to the library for J
e a period which extends beyond the
. memory of many of the oldest employes i
' and librarians. One man has called every
day for the past twenty years to -spend
' several hours daily reading roetry He
t wao.1 c? onvttiinir filOA fllit* hAlnff hift '
IICVCI I cauci wn.? ituiin ----- r~*
1 hobby. Another old timer has made the
> subject of mushrooms his hobby and
reads everything printed on the subiect.
Those who come to prime themselves
. full of hasty, readymade information for
papers, speeches, addresses, etc., are alS
ways in evidence. Some of the heaviest
, reading is done by young Japanese and
Chinese students, who are making the
very best of their opportunities. Next to
y works on spiritualism, etc.. the number of
e books that are read on sociology, social
i questions, criminologv. the trust prob8
lems, etc., is astonishingly great. The
interest in such things has been on the
0 increase for the past several years and
!, shows no evidence of waning.
m
s <* A
? Minors under the age of sixteen arc not
t allowed in tlie reading room, and it has
- long been the policy of the librarian of
- Congress to assist young readers between
~ the ages of sixteen and twenty-one to a
~ class of good reading matter. The libraP,
rlans do all 'in their power to increase the
usefulness of the library as an educa*
tlonal institution by giving advice, sug- f.
' gestions and information, to the end of
* encouraging a desire among young reads'
ers for the best and most Instructive
* class of .--.oltd reading matter. i:
r While standing near the desk of the t
I
K WRITE;
"ORIOUS
soul to a soul, and both souls are dead Oh,
foolish poet: 1 ant afraid you will f<
find that it would have been better to 1?
have loved an old maid." p
Spring had come to Whitby. The banks u
of the river wore a soft green mist and a
the fresh young grass sprouted merrily
along the black wharves. The white n
tleecy clouds chased across the deep blue
sky, and the rowboats and the little h
yachts had come to their moorings, daz- h
eling white with a new coat of paint.
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The Japanese screen again sheltered the sa
high balcony and the long chair stood in Si
its accustomed corner. Miss Penrose lay lo
imong the scarlet cushions and looked st
it young Aurora.
"It was a long, tiresome winter, dear." *'?
"Yes; aunt." ca
"But at least, child, you had something
io look forward to."
he
**?
R<
"it's been a hard winter," and Aurora,
ally twisted her long, red sash. "You P?
lon't know how I hate to write letters, an
He asked me to write him every day? th
Lhink what nonsense! Things don't hap- la
pen every day. and so I wrote once a
week?there isn't a thing I hear and sec !
ind buy that I don't write about. I teli cr
lim all about the afternoon teas and tennis
parties and balls and theater parties
w
. LIBRARY :i
to
fr'
eading room one day the writer saw a
ittle lad just sixteen years of age hand "
n a card for Plato's "Republic." This ar
lappened at the close of a great rush on
he rart of a large number of young
eaders for cheao juvenile tiction.* The s"
ittle fellow did not have his card made '
>ut quite right, but the librarian attend- i,?
id to that for him with evident nleasure,
jutting himself to no small pains to see T1
1IO.V Ult; .vuuilRnter W its MippilPQ 111 SflOrt it
jrder und with tlie right translation. ve
When a boy shows a taste for such liter
iture there is some .hope for" him. and he cu
;an always rest assured of receiving' ?
jvery attention at the disposal of the
ibrary and its force.
tei
4
The Ignorant Roman., Z
Kit ME. CAVALJERI, tlie day before 8*"
the Lusitania sailed, discussed JO
marriage humorously with a reporter. ?
"But the trouble with these matrimonial 50
liscussions," said the beautiful singer, '
is that they who take part in them are ,je
usually ignorant of matrimony. Thus 1,
aiking marriage to you, am in the posi- m<
ion of l.uigi Aragno talking South h?
America. 1
"Luigi Aragno, of my native Rome, he
proposed to emigrate to South America, be
His destination was Quito, in Ecuador, va
There, you know, it is very hot. sh
'' J ttlort ? ",l"*
uuaiitcu UIIC auciuuuii, ^coicu
jefore his uncle's cafe in the Corso, of an
he prosperous times he would enjoy in
iulto. bit
" Til do splendidly there,* he said, sipling
his liqueur. 'I have a Job awaiting
ne at iiCO lire a month.' ro1
" 'But, Aragno," said a friend, 'you'll
lever be able to stahd Quito. It's right
inder the line. The temperature is 115
xi the shade.'
" 'Oh, well,' the emigrant replied, 'very "?*
ittle of my work will be in the shade, i_
rou know."" , t ,
Ihm
The Art of Sleeping.
prutu tUe Fmntlj Doctor. ' dc<
Slumber commences at the extremities, j
leginning with the feet and legs. That
* why it is always necessary to keep f
lie l'eet warm. ' "
10 Ij
-oh, dear me," and she sighed in unaf- the
feted dcpair; "and when I send off a eyes
?tter so fat that I have to put on double do
ostasre. he writes baek that I never 'd
rote anything:. Men are so unreason- une
He I
"Child, do you think that >ou can kiss
:ake him happy?" eyel
"He seems to think so, or he wouldn't T1
ave asked me. Of course he will be 1001
appy?he is so distinguished." "ll
There was a pause. "At all events," hen
mm*mm &&-.<%&*&wa&s&sfr' & #* *.
tsm
'?.aV -:>yj
**-v V' aVv' ' vVV--*
'j ~T- i-x.- ' ,> -jA- -'/Af.V-"- ' - - ; v c:
%vSi w *
' ! . . '*."> ;- 'St.:.id
Miss Penrose, "you are satisfied?" at J*
le gazed at the girl with a quizzical awa
ok, which the latter did not under- "T
and. ,\ur<
"Oh, dear, yes! One can't have every- writ
ing, and Roger is the greatest Amer!- The:
n poet, you know." writ
"Was it ills idea to meet you here?" "1
"Well, no, aunt. You see, the people "tlm
ime are all so dreadfully unpoetlc, "D
id I thought papa and mamma an i ador
jger would have so little to talk about."
rhe day Roger Lythgoe arrived Miss
mrose was alone. The room was still
id peaceful and the sunlight fell through
e plants at the windows, and one shaft an*]
y at her feet as she sat reading by the '
ten fire. l"ur
Bho looked up startled and a faint blush ""let
ept Into her cheeks. "You were nit flani
ipected until tonight," she exclaimed.
Vurora is at a tennis tournament?she l'ie
ill feel so disappointed." uee<
Be. had grown older, and his beard was lj !?s
ayer and there was a weary look in 11
s eyes. he '
look
He smiled faintly as he drew up a chair ?
the fire. "I am afraid I shall be a
Ightful contrast to those young fellows. me .
hat. in Heaven's name, did she see in
i old fellow like me?" ,f
_ _ ? ?i k
'Surely, you know your own worth, ,.N
e said quickly. cvch
"Xo, I have lost faith in myself. 1
ive come to the turning point of life. unhl
lere is no future, only a past. I show *
in my work; it's been rot this past
ar. Enough of me!" and his face
ture
;ared. "What have yoju done?" c*iet
'Nothing!" she said impatiently. "I,
a, am growing old, it seems. The win?
. .. sa>
r was dreary?my worn was nad.
Today is one of your days," and lie het.
itched lier face; "you should be sketch- ?ula
s; the orchards are full of apple bios- .
ms and sunshine. I always think of
u when I see the glory of springtime.
>u have eternal youth in the touch of
ur brush. "V
le paced the floor and finally stopped Aurc
fore lier. "You will think me disloyal; t*
u will despise me," be cried, "but. I J"2 s
ust speak! All this miserable year t Aurc
ve been homesick for?think of it?you." and
("he sunlight touched her down-bent neitli
ad with the wavy gray hair. An early
e beat against the window pane in a "A'
in effort to reach a yellow primrose. San?
e looked up with a frank smile. "I "L*
1 glad,' ehe said. tily.
'Aurora, do you understand?" he cried
terly. "I love you!"
'You love me?" she repeated?"and Au- rPra
ra?" "N<
w
'It is true,"' lie groaned, and turned
ay. "Forgive me:" io dr
'Roger," and she held out her hand, ?
o not let her suffer, for she loves you.
[ am old?an old heart ran bear wounds. 7
svill always be your friend, as 1 have
?n. Come to me for the strength vou 'an^
"Mi
Ink I can ghse, ahd It will be my glory
it I was able to help you by word or *our
^upon
le held her two hands in his with a ur^'
lap that pained, and their eyes met. don't
oger," and out of her face faded all
WK t / J V
r
lines of pain and bitterness, and liar
5 tilled with unaccustomed tears, "yen
not know how I love you "
Vhv. Rojfcr. when did you come?" a.i
.isy silence fell on the noisy croup
shook hands with Aurora?he couldn r
lier before all these curious yours
8.
lat uicht Aurora went to her aun t
n for moral support.
lasn't he crown old!" and she threw
?elf un the bed. >ll*? Penrose looked
"i ^ -V-"
'SHL^g^Bwl
jMk t >k"
O ?
- ' V
B9 V % .
Lurora with a guilty start and throat
y a pile of letters,
lie idea of looking at old letters:" an.l
ara yawned. "I wish people wou'.dn
e letters?it's such work to read them,
a Roger's got the most dreadlu! handing.
But hasn't he grown old:"
'don't think," said Miss Penrose,
t he looks happy."
ion't you? I wonder why? 1 know he
es me."
* *
>rtunately .-die did noi wait for an
ver.
he cruelty of youth:" old Aurora
mured, and beat away a moth thai
1 to commit suicide in the yellow
e of the candle.
le tide was low. They strolled along
Arm grrav beach strew rt with eeai
and whitening crabshells and peb$
it reasonable that she eau love me?"
exclaimed, and stood stock still and
ed at her.
le wrinkles on her forehead vanished
she laughed. "You must not ask
laughed against his will. "I shall
e her unhappy.*
lo. not so long as you are in the enopedias
and the newspapers."
i'ell, to be honest, she will make~t*e
ippy."
ey walked on in silence.
fhat does a handsome young t raa
like that want to marry me for?" he
1 in desperation.
ou have asked her; -what did sh*
id I believe her capable of breaking
word and my heart? She is so aJ0
rly obtuse! What rliail T do? As a
leman, I cannot break my word."
i *
ou've just deserted me, Roger." and
>ra pouted. "What were you doing
lat church?" Roger turned scarlet t<>
peetaeles and old Aurora drew young
ira to the couch and patted one hand
then Roger patted the other, but
ler spoke.
'hat Is the matter?" Aurora cried,
urora. my darling." Aunt Aurora bebut
her lips trembled.
;t me speak." Roger Interrupted has"I
am to blame." But he did not
to find words to begin,
father sick, or mother?" and Autumed
white,
o. child, no "
hat has happened?" and she tried
aw her hands away, but they hot a
r to her.. .
trora. Aurora, 1 know yor will for?"
Roger be^an very uncertainly,
as the door was opened and a long,
man put in his head,
re. I.ythgoc, pardon inc, but you left
sunshade in the chorclv" w he rehe
withdrew. 0
ra. Ljthgoe"' she cried, and tneaaold
Aurora from head to fool; 1
believe it!"
(Copyright, 1S00 f