The Manitowoc pilot. [volume], March 21, 1901, Image 7

About The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932

Image provided by: Wisconsin Historical Society

                
| MANSFIELD, M. D. I
| BY 11. A. KEAYS. |
• <; - *-A • !’ • I * ?' • •■■*> ♦-;
AFTER thier consultation the two
doctors left the house together.
They had met over this case many
times now, for it was one which baffled
them equally.
At tlie corner, where their ways
forked, the younger man would have
hurried away, but the old doctor hesi
tated.
“Mansfield.” he began, with evident
reluctance, “you are engaged to Dora
May?”
There was a peculiar insisteiu”* in
his voice.
“Why certainly.”
“We 1 !, thank (iod. my pood fellow,
that you are, for I’ll waper every
hair on my head and po bald through
all eternity if there’s another such
pirl on this dirty earth."
“Oh. naturally, that’s what 1
think." admitted Mansfield. But he
spoke as if he hardly heard himself.
“I tell you that woman’s a demon,"
Dr. Moodie continued with explosive
irrelevance.
“What woman?"
The two words cut into the end of
the old man’s sentence like icicles
fallen from some dim planet a million
leapues away.
“What woman?” There was an
inferno of indignation in the rep ated
question. “There is only one such
woman. Mansfield, and you know it
as well as I do."
With that the two men melted arart
by mutual consent. Along with
beards and bifurcation, the ability
to say the last word soon enough
may perhaps be reckoned an equally
distinguishing masculine characteris
tic.
A few minutes later Dr. Mansfield
entered Mrs. May's drawing-room.
The girl, waiting for him. sprang up
With a lit lle cry.
“No, I shan't kiss you." she fumed
with pretty petulance. “I've been
waiting
He stooped down to her and. lifting
her chin with one finger, calmly tilted
her pouting lips to his.
“Oh, Apollo, what a superior ca
ress!" she exclaimed, rebelliously.
but she subsided against his shoulder
vith a contented sigh, and began to
pull the ends of his moustache with
tensing fingers.
“Hut where have you been to
night?" she asked presently.
“Oh, visiting a patient." he an
swered. carelessly. “You know, dear,
a doctor's
“Yes, yes, now don't preach." slo
lnterru]ite(l nnnphtily. “I ipiite un
derstand that when I'm your wife I
must never, never expect or even
wish to see you except when nobody
else wants to. lint you know I’m
not your wife yet.”
“No.”
“Dorn. Dora!" he protested.
“Do yon know.” she said, unexpect
edly. "1 heard to-day that Mrs, l'*iar
tei's is dying?”
“Did you?"
“Aes. Isn't she?”
Dr. Mansfield sat up straight.
“D rn, you know I never d'senss
my patients."
"Oh, Leonard. I'm not askinp you
to discuss her as a doctor. Can't you
speak of her as a man?"
“As ;i man?" lie repeated, starinp
at her. “Oh, as for that " but in
stead of t'mishiup his sentence, he pot
tip and bepan to pace the lonp draw-
Inp-roont restlessly. As the ifl
v lied him her tender eyes
tened.
"Leonard, come here." she called
out presently with pretty imperious
ness. “Sit down at once. Von look
like an imprisoned tiger. and besides
mamma says you are wearing out a
regular track in the carpet."
He sat down silently. The pirl
leaned towards him and ln’s
stronp hands with timid, fitful finpers.
There- was a shadow on her lovely
face.
“Do you know what 1 think. T.eon
nrd? I think that woman is a perfect
fiend."
There was a passion, unfamiliar to
him in the still intensity of her voice,
find il almost seemed as if the very
Words must have turned to stare at
thenisejvi s on her fair yonnp lips.
"(iood heavi ns!" he exelaimed,
drawing hi-- hands away from her as
if her tin-.-i-rs were thorns, “that's tin
second time to-nipht I have been li Id
that."
“Ah, then other people talk to von
about her?”
She nodded her head convictinply.
Tbit ids lips were steeled to nDer
nnce aptiin. and he let her talk on in
unresisting silence.
“Aunt Melle told me such ii lot to
day. I can't understand it. Il really
seem as if that woman lias <|iiile
enonpli pood in her to know she’s
bud. Why, if she was only all pood,
she’d lie splendid, Leonard."
“Oh. I don't know. Dora. I'm not
sure tint what evil’s a pretty jolly
thinp after all. It would he insuffer
ably dull down here if it wasn’t for
the nanphty people."
“Oh, then I suppose you'd like all
the women in the world to lie like
Mrs. Charters?"
“Heaven forbid! I should be sorry
to see wickedness lose its charm front
lack of contrast, Dora," he said, te.qs-
Inply.
“Yes, but seriously, Leonard. I al
ways felt as if that woman was a
kind of leper. And she knew I did."
“Did she?"
“Oh, yes. I remember the first time
she met yon a year ago at the Les
lie’s ball. She was lovely to you. just
to spite me. Do yon remember?"
Remember?
Does a titan ever forpet his first
childish prief, his first childish joy,
the nufadinp eestaey of his heart’s
earliest dream, the last cold touch of
love’s dead lips?
Dr. Mansfield said nothing as ne
stroked his sweetheart’s shimmering
hair with a dull hand.
“That night I couldn’t sleep, dar
ling. thinking of her —and you." the
girl went on. sweet and tremulous
under his touch. “But after that I
never worried, because 1 saw that
yon didn't care. Ah. you didn’t know
how 1 watched .you, sir!”
“Did you. Puss?”
“And this morning when Aunt Belle,
said that Mrs. Charters had never
failed to win any man she had set
out to conquer, I didn’t say a thing,
because I wouldn’t even mention her
name with yours, Leonard: but oh!
you don’t know how proud of y. it 1
was in my heart. Oh, Leonard, I
don’t think yon begin to know how
much I love yon.”
With an exquisite yielding of her
self. she lifted her suddenly wet eyes
to his. and the young man gathered
her close in his arras, while he mur
mured those love-worn words of
which the ears of women have been
covetous since that time so long ago
when the first two souls discovered
themselves in flesh.
“Hut I can't understand it, Leon
ard. Aunt I Idle says she’s so clever.”
She waited for him to speak.
“Yes.”
“And awfully good-hearted."
“Yes."
“But she isn't what you'd call a
beautiful woman?”
" No."
“And children just adore her. I
think that's so strange, because, you
know, they always say children judge
character correctly by instinct."
“Yes."
"But she's not pood. Leonard."
“No."
"And she didn't cure a snap for her
own poor little baby.”
"No?"
"She's a cruel woman.”
"I ndoubtedly."
“Then how can she be kind-hearted,
t oo ?"
"I don’t know."
“Oh. wind an uncommunicative
boy!" the girl exclaimed, petulantly.
“You’re as prickly as a. burr to-night.
I can’t get anywhere near yon."
"My denr," he said, elaborately
widening Ids anus, “if this is what
you want
Hut she bent him into silence with
a sofa cushion. Then she studied
him with tin elftsive frankness which
might have charmed him had lie only
eves to note it.
“Leonard," she asked suddenly, "do
you like Mrs. Charters?"
Car away in the big house it cuckoo
clock struck 11 in cadences which
ro*e ami fell in mournful unison with
t he wailing wind.
Dr. Mansfield rose abruptly.
‘‘Dora, you will lose your beauty
sleep. 1 must go. dear."
I tut she stood in front of him, her
little hands clutching the edges of his
coat.
“Do .von, Leonard?" she repeated.
His clear blue eyes looked steadily
into the soft, appealing bro >n of hers
as he answered calmly: "I? Like
her?"
lie paused it moment, considering.
"Why. I’nss. I think I hate her." hi
said, deliberately.
A soli broke from tlie girl.
"Why, darling, what is it?" he asked
in I he teuderest alarm.
“Oh, I don't know. Leonard. Cm
tired, ami you’ve been Oh, such a
tunny, funny boy to-night."
“Dorn. I'm going to lose a patient,'
he said, gravely. “Every physieiat
hates that, and I’ve fought for this
woman's life."
“Yes. I know. I'm sorry. 1 was
naughty." she said, smiling winsome
ly at him through her 1 ears.
It seemed iis if she could hardly
let him go. lie kissed her good-bv si
many times that at last he said, with
the merest shade of impatience in his
voice: "Oh. my dear. I ought really
to begin to say good-by to yon as soon
as I arrive."
She let him go then, and as the big
carved door swung stealthily to upon
iis noiseless sockets behind him. sin
Hew to the tower window in the li
brary. and watched his lessening fig
ure until she could no longer separate
it from the swaying shadows, and the
Inst faint echo of his footsteps died
upon the encroaching distance.
She did not set 1 him again for se'-
rnl days, so that when she was finally
summoned one evening to receive him.
there was a piquant frost upon her
■lrtish charm iis she entered the
drawing room and fluttered close to
him Ii 1 i a timid bird, lint lie drew
away from her.
“Leonard!"
The smothered reproach in her
void stirred him.
"Don't. Dora," he said, huskily. “1
have come to tell yon something. If
xon look at me like that I can’t. And
1 must. I have tried for days to per
suade myself that 1 needn’t till you
now."
"(Mi. I understand it all." Her long
strangled intuitions had sprung full
fledged into birth, as only a woman's
can. "You have come to tell me that
you eared more for Mrs. Charters
I ban you do for me."
He stared at her in bewilderment.
“And yon mean that you don’t
care?" lie said at Inst.
Cor an instant slie looked at him.
with eyes which might have stung
his souk then she said coldly: "Is
that all? I’ccansc this is not a pleas
ant interview, find I would just as
soon have it over."
“-No, it is not all," lie exclaimed,
passionately. "It isn't the beginning.
I bit I thought you loved me, and
now
She threw out iter hand with a
fierce gesture. "How dare you talk
to me of love? You! You! What do
you know of it? You. who love me to
day, and and her to-morrow. Don’t
speak to me."
Hut the scorn in her voice goaded
him into impetuous speech.
“Dora, listen to me! I will say
what I want to. I can't understand
myself. If I did 1 shouldn’t be here
now. Don’t you know the other night
I told you I hated Mrs. Charters? So
1 did. But 1 hated her because I
loved her. Don’t you remember tell
ing me you felt sure 1 didn’t care for
her after the ball. Yes. I did avoid
her. beganse I knew she was (he kind
of woman a man was safest away
from." Be hesitated.
“I have no right to blame her.
Dora. But long before she called me
in to attend her she had made me un
derstand in a hundred ways— ’’
He paused again. The girl nodded
her head silently. She was leaning
hack in a chair, tier eyes shut, as if
she sought blindness from the blow
which must fall. The utter forlorn
ness of her slight figure, so still and
nnresistant in its misery, might have
turned ttie erlirc of a less relentless
fate. Hut suddenly she sat up,
straight and aggressive, with flaming
cheeks.
“Leonard, did yon ever discuss me
with her?"
“On my soul, Dorn, never!" he ex
claimed impetuously. But in a mo
ment he added, with the appalling
self-honesty which characterized
him, “That is, if we did. we never
said so."
She covered her face with her hands,
for the tears would come. The un
conscious "we" smote her so cruelly.
“Oh. Leonard, how could you?” she
moaned.
“Perhaps if you had known her ns
I did— " be began again, aftey a long
silence, but Dora chilled him with a
proud gesture.
"Leonard," she said presently.
“Leonard, i must know. I must. Did
you did you ever kiss her?”
He could have smiled. In the face
f the deep involving of his soul with
that dead woman’s it seemed so
puerile a query.
"No," he answered coldly. “But I
would have given my soul to."
"Thank you,” she said proudly.
“Your frankness is admirable, but
somewhat gratuitous.'' She moved to
the door, but he held her as she swept
past him.
“Dora, listen! I'm going away. I'm
offered my services as an army sur
geon."
Site wavered, and then turned to
Dim helplessly. If she had not loved
him better than herself it would have
been so easy to be proud.
“(ill Leonard, don't go! You never
loved her. Aon only think so now.
~ome day you'll know better. You'll
know you loved me best."
“Perhaps I shall, but I don't now,"
he answered, inexorably honest. "The
trouble is. Dorn. I've been loving two
women. Someone Inis said that at
heart all men are bigamists. It must
be true, or I can't explain myself."
She winced under Iji* words, but tin
intuition born of her love sustained
her even now.
“You're too honest, Leonard. Yot
ask’ yourself too many questions. 1
should think that a doctor would havi
known better than to pore over sym
toms, like a student, until he thong l '
he had the disease. 1 suppose we’v<
got the germ of everything 1 in on
bodies and nur souls if we chose t>
look for it."
"Oh. Dora, von don’t understand
"Don't I? Do yon suppose I dido'
know?" she demanded, with sttddei
upheaving passion, “Why, Leonard
from the very night of the ball I fol
lowed it all, step by step."
He stared at her stupidly.
“Yes. and yon pry and pry, and
then you're so honest that you’n
brutal. Why, you're so honest that
believe you'd almost tell a lie in mak
lag 1 sure that yon told the truth."
He listened to tier in amazement
He had never suspected this simph
child of -übiety. He had thought he
"■ plain to him as a page of prime'
prose.
Ml at once she turned to him with .
lit I le cry.
"(Hi. Leonard, don't yon care any
thing for me? And I'm so good. I'vi
never done n thing in my life that I
would be ashamed to have you know.'
Her cheeks flamed. "Could Mrs
Charters have said that?"
"No."
“Why. they say I'm the sweetest
girl in (Ins town." Sin- smiled at hin
wanly.
“And I'm well, oh yon know.
Leonard " Was she going to speak
of her wealth, for whose sake so many
men had craved her "sweetness?"
"Why, Leonard, yon know I'm not
ugly, and oh! I love yon so terribly!"
Her ni'ie died into a whisper, so faint
that he barely caught it.
“I’gly. Dora, you’re as beautiful as
in angel!" he exclaimed in deep,
strong tones. The bittei pathos of it
all. this simple mustering of all Imi
girlish virtues to tempt him back D.
her side, melted his heart to her liki
wax in a furnace.
I bit she Idd her face from him, and
began to sob. Her bnmiliation vv a>
greaier than she could bear.
“Do away!" she whispered pas
siotuilely: “(iood-bye."
“No. no. Dora," he protested
“Don't you know I mat never se<
you again? I can't leave you like this.'
She sat up instantly.
"Do von want to kiss me?" slni
asked. with a naivete tit which he
could hardly hide a smile.
She was such a child when she was
not a woman A week ago he had had
her till a mils zed anil labeled, and -lie
had required very few tags, for the e
was nothing complex about her. Hut
now it struck him wit It the force of
discovery that no human being is
simple, except, perhaps. )In* one who
deems hint such.
The next day he went away, out
upon the field of bravery, a wiser and
it better man. with all his nature en
larged and sweetened by the vision h>
had had of the love which holds the
hearts of men true to all that is most
cd'le in themselves. Canadian Maga-
COFFEE AND CAKES.
Coffee and cakes.
(And the bright eyes of Helen )
What Joys are in store for u Time has
the tollin'!
Coffee and cakes, and the bright eyes of
Helen!
The rustle of silvery curtain- a ;
The light of her eyes and th h of her
lace
Where the bright dimples re
A blessing that day from L • - heart
was upwellln'—
Coffee and eakt-s. and the bright eyes of
Helen!
Who’d think that a beggar w kn-.-it in
the dust
And the darkness of life. C; J
God for a crust.
Would e'er o'er a banquet be on and the
grace
Of th. light of those eyes and the j >y of
that face.
Where such rose-dimples ra<
Ah, what Is in store for us-T.me has the
tellln'
Coffee and takes, and the In yes of
Helen!
Was ever such banquet? Ah. every
bright minute
Had silvery ripples of laughti r v.nvi- in it'
All the Jo> oi i lifetime s ■ ed
in an hour
Of light and of joy, in an April-sweet
shower.
And that face like a flower
Forever and ever Love's 1 uig np
wellla'
Fur toffee and cakes, and th- Ft adit ■
of Helen!
—Frank i.. Stanton, in All
Hon.
Jobson Reads Hi
t( I IMlOl’tmK,'' said Mi .It.i <i.
I wlu'li in arrived h< v. i a
i; K \ paeknpe under his nt 1 1 1 1 '1" r
evcniiin “1 propose to nr t, pr> s
nt year iiit of ill> 1 1 'limi am!
mental cultivation in this In useho c ‘
,iiu! he cut the twine that hum■< tin j
bundle, ri| |h . uiV thi 1 ,-r ai n
vcaicti a slack of boob • r tin same
u:!iii' ami pailern.
“Tin. t hintr." lie wnt or. “of dnd-!
dcriny around the housi ' r live or
six i: 411-s. tv ry nipht. ttnti h, me.
pi ayi up eh t eke rs. or savvi: p on i h id- 1
lin. or listeninir to you p’n mi a : ote
here and a note there m 'ln piano,
ami waidling - you reiu'ii wdh rapt.
pen ii.oiil lieil attention n i arr it ion
of the extraordinary at:v attires rtf
'lliruie .1 nteworks.' or, ‘i In Hapless i
Maiden of the Mill.' has p t to eon e to
an cud. It's slothful, ii pm til lt!e.
idiotic, anil a miserable fa-I.ion ol frit
tering away the time.”
Hert Mr. .1 iltsoll half I I and p '/ed
solemnly at Mrs. dohson. who won
lieret! what w is coinin<r I'M.
-| have here. Mrs. .lobs ."In went
on.' “an immortal histo' a work,
which you may have In n of. aid
which yon may not have I < rd of. It
is called ‘The Ileeline and I , of the
Homan Empire.‘ and it w - writtii by
(iihhnn."
“Quite true." said Mr..lolise.n sivi et
ly. “I read an abriepement of it when
I was at seiiool. am I have n o the
eomplclt work ihronph twin-since we
were married. V n will remembef
that my I'nele .loliu pave it to u e for
a. birthday present, in t isrht uduu s.
it is in the beokease now, iioui ■ in
murocco. you’ll remember."
Mi. .lobson's euuii!ei:mice ft• I but
he promptly recovered and looked in
ereilulons.
“Tin n's soineihiup uueei ah
THE PEOPLES SAVINGS BANK.
H. Ci. OLP, Prop.
/Manitowoc, V Wisconsin.
',s jess r e r
QUALITY IN PAINT
is shown by the way it wears after being exposed to the weather. Our high grade*mi\-
ed paints have been used extensively in this and adjacent counties| uul for ears h.s
stood the wear of the roughest weather. VVe recommend it for itsjjcovering capacity
and the hard, smooth surface it forms- Our special price on this paint is fora limited
time only.
this, that's all I've go, to say.” lie re
marked. however. "I never knew of
these books being - in the house, and
you must have beta hilling’ them all
these tears. I'll bet you the nicest
poke bonnet that can be built for new
currency that those volumes have
never seen the inside of the bookense.
anyhow —you've pn.b.i'.ilv had tin min
the bottom of one of the old trunks in
the storeroom ail his time."
“They've been in the bookcase ever
since I got them." pi t in Mrs. .lobson.
and M r. .lolison, pt rei'u ing that he w
cornered.cbarci his throat ponderous
ly and went on:
“We'll just let that little mystery
pass for the present.” he said, “h I
had known that there too an edition
of this immortal work around my
house d'ye suppose t hat I'd have blown
in s~ s for this 12-volmuc edition Ho
wever. we’ll let that pas-, is I say. The
fact remains that a chapter of this
great historical work is going to be
read in this household evert night
from now on. and I'm g( ing to be the
reader. We need to have our horizon
expanded. We live too much in the
trilling and frivolous present. We are
too much concerned with merely
dinky affairs. We need inspiration,
elevation, exalt at ion. What better way
of gaining those things than In balk
ing back, through the medium of th : s
masterful work, to the glorious days
and tin mighty ha open ii; g s of im
perial Home'.’" and Mr. .lobson w ;■ be
coming - so eloquent that Mr.-, .lobson
fe I 1 ike ehi 11 ii;g in wi l h “llna rl I!i■ yrl "
but she didn't care to take Ihe chance.
"I think." we - ’: on Mr. .lob (in. "I hat
1 started to lead this book when I was
a young fellow, but I'm not sure, and
' | ' \
if'* t*. '•A';-""-' '■ I
A'H /I ■
HM I'IUI.UNT I'l N I > r 111: lUITSTfI’F
Ini not sett in ir up any ficiiiiiiona
rtainn dl;e some pc *pl; I km w. We ll
h pin on i hese *rea inp.- i ddt af - • r
i.innir, and from this time t.i. i.otl-iiiir
whatever is pomp- to in lit fere wii . t
least one ehapli r of liilile n e\t ly
e\ < ail p , 'l mi’ 1 1 thank me lor ihi - lan r
on a i lump'll I cat see by your lot Us
now that you are r uffi rlmr 'ha i-et—
hsof an ant ieipati and inn rt y ; n.“
Mr>. .1 oil-, n dii. i l iti i.np.'aeli
me lit. and said;
, “Of eonrse. you know (li.il 11 1 • el.ap
ter' of (iil)hon's' '|i ciine and Kai ' are
\ .tv Ini; r . and 1 lua t
“(l!i, 1 1:..iI 'd In all i'p li(, t ood' ir 1 it
rupli'd Mr, ,loi in. “I don't i are if
fill'll ehapi ■ I's as i'lll" .1' tie 1,. It),
when 1 si■ t myself a eirt.du ta-k, that
la-k I perform in the fae ■ of every ills*
eourap eini ni. dust hurry tin- part up
with dinner. so‘s wa ean pel at the llrst
Il n ,’>l i'! irkl after (I ill life V
-■so, unmeoiutiT' after Hie eter.ir.g
meal, Mr. Job.-am planted Mis. .Idi.-mi
in a chair right opposite himself, so
that he could watch and e if she
yawned or nodded, and started in to
drone chapter 1 of volume I of (iib
bon's “Decline and Fall.” lit Ia - : t
got through with more than half,a
page before he struck a nttmln r ,f
s'nags. By the time he had read fom
pages he was in real diflieultii s. The
Latin quotations in the foot note- tir.-t
got him going. He brately want 1.1
them and spluttered them so flat flu v
sounded like it mixture of ragtime an 1
Fiji, and he looktd out the tail of his
eye to see whether Mrs. Jobsett was
laughing at him. She waisn’t laughing
oufw irdly. however, no matter l.i.vv
much she might have been inwardly
enjoying herself. The name- of the
ancient provine,■ -ol the li a. an eu - .| i: 1
caused Mr. .lobson to splutter and
choke a good deal. too. but lit attael.i 1
them all. and continued to regard M:>.
.lobson slantwise, after misnaming a
long list of the provinces, to - e i 1 -l.e
was giving any ext t in; - u anile- 1 a ,
of gl. i . w hich w , old lun , a li; r. a
his opportunity to throw t < k
down and refuse to play tint me:.. >
JOiISHUI. how evt r. pi t-tl\t li her i.
e.-ted exterior.
" 1 worn . r.” Mr. .Inb-■ n I <. 1
after reading many pagt >. "win n
tlieke: - tin hot stuff, so to -pc: 1.. e>
tll i.- Wi; rk beg iII s W 111 fe'- tf act I
of | hi- fellow. Nero, who u- e. t . i a
Christian maidens for torehi -at 1 v. o
play, i, on the lidclc while lh mi \ s
binning, and
"\\ II." inti rrupti tl M 1- i'ii. "
w : n : i; t •: 1! 1 • r (lull the w i U and
inelndi tli- n iu of ,\rrn. i\ i.i I ’-
111 f> 111 s. 1 “ belli V •. \\ i I 11 11' i e ;
tvip.t if \ npnstns. am; I In n '■ nr; I
I i'm on to t In reign of IT;.j n. w in . e
il i n■;1 1 story begins. ’’
-Wi 11, tlint'll he in .it nil f. :• :! e
Jill - II I ■ .1 i M 1 . .1 ill I . eii.M ; I ll g
book with a snap. “ V' ir I kn.
the w'holt 1 1. ill};, ai yin w ■ o y. n
b ll it. I .Hi vi-r. I hi. re t ■
n ail ings 1 1 -mi it iw ii, nil sj J,|
ifler I,'ini e."
Mr. Jill.-in r is
•li I lie follow!:. g i u . r-
II n lied I liem for foil r t; i . . .. . Ids
vole grew husky, Here.
pear if 1 1 enjoy ini; lii.i e \ i , ;
I in meil iai e . s a! 1 1 r i!i ii r e i. 'i i
< . i \ i • \ i 11 i 111 : lie went n, ■ i i'; , a Ii: u ; i
In ea me n w i.. a hunt ha I ,n; e - ■. r,
lie was 1 I il < .111 : n hi. i. 1 e !
ami j’ri lll jn ii up.
\ ii ■ yon gni ng out?” ii; 11' ii i ■ i Mis.
J.imsim. ■
“11. I 'in k liki I’m i : mi v y . . n
lo I lie ei bar to n pair . i e 1 un : ei . “ he
a- k. il her.
“lint." s-iii Mrs. J.Je.m, “hi x\ ai ait
I lie reading from "
i . n
Mr. .lolison, “If y i 'i I li In I. \ • n’r. eo
itig to pill up a job liki that ami n :.!.
: t stiek liambi a/!iim me into muiii g
• 1 1 >: > 11 1 a mil lion pagi s * vi r\ night of
long wimleil, ifry as-dnst.. ileail .telf
about (had e rim ill tils with purple t ■ a-,
for the purpose of keeping me in the
House all the lime, yim’ii mixed, that's
all. I'm going downtown to play bil
liards a.id lake in m variety show, and
if you want to wade through that lio
man rot. go ahead. Tin re's nolnu y
going to stop you.”
And when he had pone Mrs. .lohson
smiled and smiled.- Washington Star.
ROYALTY’S GREATNESS.
London Itngn in u 111 n Treated ts
Chriulmns Dinner* by the Dukt
noil Duchess of 1 nek.
There are not tw o wanner hearts ia
England than thos* nt the cjnke and
duchess of York. Every Christmas some
hundreds of poor, hungry little
wretches have at least one hearty meal
provide! for them entirely by their
royal highnesses. Last tear the poor
children in a certain parish in the east
of London were thus regaled, and, to
add lo their enjoyment, the duke and
duchess went themselves and said a
few cheery, heartfelt words to each of
the little ones.
Going up to one urchin, who wa*
looking very solemn and somewhat B*.d,
the duke said to him:
“Now. my little man. why such a dis
mal fai-i ? Let me see if Ica n't do some
thing to make you happier. Would
you like some more pudding, eh?”
"Ves." stolidly, but very politely, said
the urchin.
"Yes, what 5 What ouph’ you to say,
tin little fellow? You—"
"Ye- il 1 can gel it!" replied the
youth, without moving a muscle of hia
face.
Hi- roya! highness later went tip to
a sexeii-year-old boy win) appeared to
be in more than ordinary pain,judging
from his sorrowful, troubled fare.
"Von are i t happy . little man, are
you?" .-aid the duke, nio-t kindly.
"No, suit! the yont h. crying,
“Db. 'his w never dm." replied the
duke, encouragingly “Why are you
not happy?"
i’he it! a- boy put bis hand across his
11 - 11 1 - ■ i■ - - “I’in ti a tight her#
to be lia| py . sir!"
B'.ANKLTirJG ORANGE GROVES.
lion tin* \onnu Trrei* \r* Protected
I roni thr I roit In the
Son 1 li.
Who i ver heard of an orange tree be
ii rolii up in a blanket at night?
T in hi vit li. ai i! of such a thing in
Kin; a in til tip year of the blizzard
wlo-i tin temperature dropped from
almvi / in iii iht in one night and
it were
tnmeii blank ami trail-. Now orange
lmiivm r> I ive blankets for their trees
mill win n there i- danger of a frost
t, at' are >t ret eh ed around them, and
vi■ rv liki \ bir kernsene lamps or small
stoves ii lit in- i’i the tent to keep the
linger* and tin - o’ valuable trees from
b ngnippi . *>i y be sei-iinds are need*
e tu pm up 'uiiii of tin 'i tents which
an alri .i \ in place altaehed to poles
beside tln I rei ' and operati and by means
of riti”' ami strings. In an hour a
whole ore: aril ear le- made to look like
an arm \ ramping ground. Some young
orchard* of many acres are inclosed In
'lat hoii'i ' which ran br opened and
ri.isnU il' winnow 'butters. Still an
r wa\ i tin* orcl ird In
a t Ot
f ..-ty i iu l i' a roof is formed by strips
of iiiii'lin siretehrd on w iris from one
sii of tl I tir'd In the Other, in all of
tin-',- inelu'iirt s artificial In at of some
k'nil i> kept up and everything it used
r. a ham lumps to big sheet iron "salt
i ini ii ‘at ni’e- of stovepipe to
i tl, lit at .t aI. pa rts ot the