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The Baltimore County union, the Towson news. (Towson, Md.) 1909-1912, November 20, 1909, Image 1

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VOL. 60. WHOLE No. 2341.
You Can Have
BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS
All Winter, at Christmas Time, at
Easter Time, also in your Lawns and
Flower Beds
AT THE FIRST OPENING OF
SPRINGTIME
IF YOU PLANT NOW
BOLGIANO’S FALL BULB 3.
Our beautifully illustrated 20 Page
Fall Flower Catalogue will be cheer
fully sent you if you drop us a postal
today.
Plant flfamr' ' %
Each Doz. 100
Baby Hyacinths... 3c 30c $2.00
Bedding Hyacinths 5c 35c 2.85
2d size Hyacinths. ■ 7c 60c 4.50
Ist size Hyacinths. 9c 90c 6.75
Roman Hyacinths. 6c 65c 4.50
Krocsla Bulbs, 2 for 5c 15c 1.00
Early Tulips, mix. 2c 10c 75
May Tulips 3c 25c 2.50
Parrot Tulips 3c 25c 1.60
Double Tulips 2c 15c 90
Narcissus, single... 3c 15c 75
Narcissus.paper w. 4c 26c 1.25
Jonquils 2c 10c 60
Double Narcissus.. 3c 15c 75
Snow Drops 2c 15c 85
Crocus, mixed le 6c 40
Oxalis 2c 10c 00
Easter Lillies 10c SI.OO 7.50
Calla Lillies 8c 90c 7.50
Our famous Self-watering Window
Boxes are especially well adapted to
m the successful growth of all kinds of
H flowering bulbs, plant tubs, flower pots.
Your local merchant can get from us
U wbat Fall Bnr<s you want. If he does
U not sell our Fall Bulbs you can send
■ your order to us and we will see that
■ they reach you in perfect condition.
J. BOLGIANO & SON
H Four Generations in the Seed Businees
BALTIMORE. Md.
l
ROOFING
THE fact that Amatite needs no
painting makes it the most
economical roofing on the]
market.
A roof which requires painting]
every couple of years to keep it
tight is an expensive proposition.]
If you will stop and figure out the]
cost of the paint, you will find it is]
frequently more than the roofing]
itself.
Amatite is covered with a real
mineral surf ace,which makes paint*]
ing absolutely unnecessary. ' ~
Anyone can lay Amatite. It
quires no skilled labor. Nails and
liquid cement which requires no
heating, supplied free with every]
roll.
Griffth & Turner Company
Farm and Garden Supplies
s } Baltimore.
J. P. STEINBACH
Maker of
GENTLEMEN’S CLOTHES
PROFESSIONAL eldg.
CHARLES AND PLEASANT STS.
Bot'i Phones.
C. *P. TELEPHONE
N. C. HAEFELE & CO.
Gas and Electrical Construction
in all its branches
Up-to-date workmanship and reason
able prices. Let me make an estimate
on installing your home with
GAS or ELECTRICITY
I guarantee entire satisfaction in good
work and fair dealing
Office and Show Room:
Bel Air Road, between Overlea and
Maple Avenues,
Overlea P. 0., Baltimore Co., Md.
JARRETT N. GILBERT
(Successor to BAY and GETTY)
GENERAL
COMMISSION MERCHANT
Grain, Wool and Hay
BOURSE BUILDING, Custom House
Avenue and Water Street
BALTIMORE, - - - MD.
DEAL WITH
REITZE
FOMESMLOTHES.
We beg to announce tho arrival of our
FALL AND WINTER FABRICB, and in
vite your early inspection.
gn]ts $13.50 up
Pants'...”.” 5.00 up
Specialists on Full Dress Suits... 30.00 up
J. H. Reitze & Son
643 W. Baltimore Street, 2 doors
west of Arch,
Baltimore, Md.
THE COMMERCIAL BANK OF MARYLAND
BELVEDERE AVENUE,
Hear Reisterstown Road, ARLINGTON, Md.
. , O a
CAPITAL STOCK, $25,000.
. , 0—
3STOW OIPEUST FOE BTTSinSTEJSS
Does a general Banking Business in all that Is consistent with safe and careful man
agement. The location of oar Bank makes ft the most convenient place for a large
number of residents of Baltimore county to transact their financial business.
During the short time onr Bank has been open for business the amount of deposits
has reached a success far in excess of onr expectations.
We have a SAVINGS DEPARTMENT and pay interest on money deposited there.
Call and see ns and we will explain why It will be to yonr advantage to open an
account with ns.
Prompt attention given to all collection business entrusted to us.
, . , .0—
—IOFFICEBS:
CHAS. T COCKEY, Jr., JOHN K. CULVER, Ist Vice-President. CHARLES E. SMITH,
President. HOWARD E. JACKSON, 2d Vice-President. Cashier.
DIRECTORS:
CHARLES T COCKEY, Jr., HOWARD E. JACKSON, ROBERT H. McMANNS,
ARTHUR E. NICHOLSON, J. B. WAILES, MAX KOSEN,
JOHN K. CULVER, GEORGE W. ALT, H. D. HAMMOND,
J. FRANK SHIPLEY, H. D. EASTMAN. Dec. 26—ly
I: T one? *
W'AY # i;
< ] To have money Is to save It. The sure way to save it Is by depositing it fn a,
] ► responsible bank. You will then be exempt from annoyance of having It burn < (
i i boles In yonr pockets, and aside from the fact that your money will be safe ] ►
< ] from theft, the habit of saving tends to the establishment of thrift, economy, , >
] I discipline and a general understanding of business principles essential to your <,
< [ success. < >
] > To those wishing to establish relations with a safe, strong bank, we heartily < [
< ' extend onr services. 41
i:The Towson National Bank, i;
j| TOWSON, IsOLTD. ]!
;! DIRECTORS. <;
! J JOHN CROWTHER, President; D. H. RICE, Vice-President; ! ]
, > Col. Walter S. Franklin, Lewis M. Bacon, ] >
<; Hon. J. Fred. C. Talbott, Wilton Creenway, 4]
]. Hon. John S. Biddlson, Ernest C. Hatch. <,
; Emanuel W. Herman, _ _ , . >
-I W. 0. ORAUMER, Cashier. !;
Second National Bank
TOWSON, Md.
• We invite the accounts of Individuals, Firms, Corporations, Societies, If)
Executors, Administrators, Trustees, Ac. WT
j | ——— ) l
* x Collections Made. Loans Negotiated.
Banking in All Its Branches.
S * EVERY POSSIBLE ACCOMMODATION FOB OUR DEPOSITORS. 4*
—1 OFFICERS i
Thomas W. Offutt, Elmer J. Cook, l Vice-Presidents. Thos. j. Meads,
president. Harrison Rider, 1 Cashier.
THOMAB W. OFFUTT. W. BERNARD DUKE, HENRY C. LONGNECKER,
Elmer J. Cook, Wm. A. Lee, Z. Howard Isaao,
Harrison Rider, Chas. H. Knox, Noah E. Offutt,
JOHN I. YELLOTT, w. GILL SMITH, FRANK X. HOOPER.
Feb. B—ly
INSURE YOUR PROPERTY
XJST
The+Home+lnsurance * Company
or NEW YORK;,
49-Whlch has for the past twelve years paid every loss in Baltimore County"®*
CASH When Adjusted.
Assets—Twenty-Five million Dollars. FIRE, LIGHTNING AND WINDSTORM.
The “Home” Writes the Largest Business In Maryland.
REPRESENTED IN BALTIMORE COUNTY BY
WHEELER & COLE, Towson, WEIDEMEYER & SHIPLEY, Owings’ Mills,
WM. J. BIDDISON, Raspeburg, HOWARD M. GORE, Freeland.
| 3f~See that your Policy is in the "Home.” [June 5-6 m
J. J. GEORGE & CO.,
, PRODUCE COMMISSION
109 MARKET SPACE,
Near Wholesale Produce Market, :o: BALTIMORE, Md.
5 Red X Chick Starter, Red X Chick Feed, Red X Poultry Feed,
Red X Dry Mash Feed, and Poultry Supplies.
1 Peerless Hot-Water System Incubators and Brooders, also the Peerless
Lampless Brooder. Portable Poultry Houses and Hennery Outfits.
Iron Age Potato Diggers. Farm and Garden Implements.
The United States Cream Separators. GET OUR CATALOG,
May 29—6 m
: S. K. FENDALL & CO.,
TOWSON, IMTO.,
AGENTS FOR ALL KINDS
■ ] Farm Machinery and Implements
inuu nECDfC Diirricc I INTERNATIONAL GASOLINE ENGINES,
lIUHIV Ufcfcn W DlllllllCws I The Best Engiuea farmer or man u factor can buy
r Repair Parts for All Machines on Hand.
If we haven’t them we will get them on short notice and can save you money on our full line.
. The Met Cora Planter a Specialty. Br^"
SODTHCOMB’S HATS
Wise Heads Wear Them.
109 K. Baltimore St.,
BBTWKKN CALVERT AND LIGHT BTB.. BALTIMORE MH
(SOUTH SIDE.) t, ” u * HOVJnc., mu.
Sept. 4-ly
Entklopes I
ENVELOPESt
ENVELOPES
for Professional and Business Mon,
furnished In large or small lots, with neatly
printed corners, at a very small ad vanceon theft
original cost. LARGE STOCK to select from.
OFFICE OF THE UNION,
Deo. 7.—tf. Towson. lid.
TOWSON. MD., SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1909.
J. MAURICE WATKINS 4 SON,
DBALMBB I -
Staple, Fancy & Green Groceries
Fruits In season. Fresh and Salt Meats.
Full line of Tobaccos, Foreign and Domeatlo
Cigars, Ac.
Bept.lß ly TOWSON, Md.
|
WANTED
1000 Orders
From your section
for &
LUMBER and
MILL WORK
COMPO-BOARD.The
great substitute tor
Lath and Plaster
J.L.6ILBERT & BRO. LUMBER CO
East Falls & Eastern Aves.
Baltimore, Md.

The Balto. Co. Water & Elec. Co.
411 E. Baltimore St.
Both Phones Baltimore
We furnish
WATER
anywhere in
BALTIMORE COUNTY
See us before selecting a loca
tion for a suburban home
The Balto. Co. Water & Elec. Co.
411 E. Baltimore St.
Both Phones Baltimore
E. SCOn PAYNE CO.
362 and 364 N. Gay St.
Baltimore, Md.
BOTH PHONES:
St. Paul 1228 Courtland 267
HEADQUARTERS FOR
Bar Iron, Steel, Axles, Springs, Shafts,
Spokes, Rims, Hubs, Wheels, Wheel
Material, Horse Shoes, Horse Shoe
Pads, Horse Shoe Nails, Rubber Tires,
Rubber Tire Machines, Rubber Tire
Channels, etc.; Wheelwright Material.
A Full Line of Builders’ Hardware
HEADQUARTERS FOR
FIELD FENCE, LAWN SWIN6S, LAWN
MOWERS, LAWN SPRINKLERS,
At a big reduction. A postal card will
reach us.
E. Scott Payne Co.
362 and 364 North Gay Street,
Baltimore, Md.
If the Egg Sac of the Hen is not supplied
with pure, rich blood, the Embryotic eggs it
contains cannot develop properly. Fairfield’s
Blood Tonic and Egg Producer purifies the
blood and furnishes it with the materials from
which eggs are made. Sold under written
guarantee bv A. M. Weis, Towson; L.Kellum
<fc Co., 1053'Hillen street, Baltimore; A. H.
Uhler, Reisterstown.
GEORGE W. GRAMMER
GENERAL BLACKSMITH
WHEELWRIGHT
and COACHMAKER
Builds and Repairs Carriages and
Wagons of all Kinds
FUNERAL DIRECTOR and EMBALMER
Gaskets always on hand. First-class
service at moderate price. Carriages
furnished at the lowest prices and satis
faction guaranteed in every particular.
PUTTY HILL, Bel Air Road,
Fullerton Post Office, BaltimoreCo.,Md.
You have been experimenting with the old
fashioned "Cure-all” Condition powder long
enough. It's time you were using the Modern,
Sensible and Scientific kind, the Fairfield Blood
Tonics. A separate and different Conditioner
for each kind of animal. (Ask for Fairfield’s
Free Book.) Sold under written guarantee by
A. M. Weis, Towson ; L. Kellum & Co., 1053
Hillen street, Baltimore; A. H. Uhler, Reis
terstown.
F. COOK
527 YORK ROAD
TOWSON.
DEALER IN
Boots, Shoes and
Rubbers, also Dry
Goods and Notions
shoe repairing - neatly done
Would We Return?
(From the Century.)
Would we return
If once the gates which close upon the past
Were opened wide for us, and If the dear
Remembered pathway stretched before us
clear
To lead us back to youth's lost land at last,
Whereon life’s April shadows lightly cast
Recalled the old sweet days of childish fear
With all their faded hopes and brought anear
The far-off streams in which our skies were
glassed;
Did these lost dreams which wake the soul’s
sad yearniug
But lived once more and waited our returning.
Would we return?
Would we return
If love’s enchantment held the heart no more
And we had come to count the wild sweet pain.
The fond distress, the lavish tears—but vain ;
Had cooled the heart’s hot wounds amidst the
roar „ .
Of mountain gales, or, on some alien shore
Worn out the soul’s long anguish and had slain
At last the dragon of despair—if then the
train
Of vanished years came back, and, as of yore.
The same voice called, and with soft eyes be-
Our g loßt n |ove beckoned, through time’s gray
veil smiling.
Would we return ?
Would we return
Once we had crossed to death’s unlovely land
And trod the bloomless ways among the dead
Lone and unhappy; after years had tied
With twilight wings along that glimmering
strand,
If then—an angel came with outstretched hand
To lead us back, and we recalled in dread
How soon the tears that once for us are shed
May flow for others—how like words in sand
Our memory fades away—how oft our wakiDg
Might vex the living with the dead hearts
breaking.
Would we return
Would we return ?
A Crown of Gold.
(From the Outlook.)
Mirabel stood in the kitchen door,
on an April day, waiting for her hus
band to come in from the barn, where
he had been unharnessing after his
trip to town. It was noon, and her
dinner-table, in exquisite order, stood
waiting for them. A beef soup of the
old-fashioned kind, with onions and
dumplings, bubbled on the stove.
Mirabel knew he would be content.
Pleasure was too strong a word for
anything Harrison might feel. He
had no commendations to express
more than as sober certainty that she
would do things as perfectly as they
could be done. He thought exceed
ingly well of Mirabel, but there was
no throb of surprise over any miracle
Bhe could offer him from time to time.
She stood there on the doorsill sway
ing from one foot to the other in a
childish way she had, her fp.ee half
smiling in a quivering response to the
bright spring weather. It made her
feel quite strangely, as if she were a
little girl, with no tasks, only to laugh
and sit in the sun. Yet she liked her
work. Only there was a part of her
that seemed to be always flying
abroad over the boughs, or singing
irresponsible things like the bluebirds,
now in their nesting fervor. From
the sky she looked down at her blue
calico and wondered if it were be
coming, and then sighed impatiently
because there was no way to find out.
Mirabel looked quite unlike any of the
girls in the neighborhood or any girl
she had ever seen. She had a skin
so delicate that the sun seemed to
scorch it, and a fine drooping profile.
But what puzzled her most was that
there were freckles on her nose, and
that she had thick, heavy hair, bright
bronze red and curling passionately,
and that to her husband none of these
things seemed to matter. Sometimes
when she went into a room all by her
self, and stood in fropt of the glass in
wild self-scrutiny, it seemed to her
that she had the prettiest neck and
chin a girl ever had, and her hair was
so glorious to her that she caught her
breath. After such a meeting with
herself she would look at Harrison
when he came in from the barn and,
flushing all over her delicate face,
wonder if he would tell her how pretty
she was. But he never told her. Not
once in all their courting days hi d he
mentioned how she looked to him,
and they had begun their love-making
so early that there had been hardly
time for other men to speak of it. He
was coming now from the barn, a
straight, tall fellow with good brown
eyes and a square chin. Mirabel sped
in to the stove, and had the steaming
dinner dished up before his feet could
touch the Bill. Harrison hpd anarm
ful of packages. He laid them down
on the kitchen lounge, swept off his
hat with one motion of his hand, and
with the other began to pump into
the basin in the sink. He soused his
head and face, and came out dripping.
After a scrub at the towel by the door,
he turned to Mirabel, waiting beside
her plate.
“Well,” said he, “you all right?”
That was deep affection. Mirabel
knew it and her eyes glowed. But she
answered soberly, because that con
sented him, and they sat down to eat.
When Harrison had dulled the edge
of appetite he set back and sighed
with satisfaction.
“Well,” he said, “who do you
s’pose I see in the post-office waitin’
for the mail?”
“I don’t know.”
“Lucy Miles-’’
In spite of her the color flew up into
Mirabel’s tell-tale skin. She felt it
there and chided herself for it.
“How’s she look ?” she asked, with
a careful interest.
“Young as ever. Pretty, too.”
“How’s she look, Harrison ?’’ said
Mirabel. “You know I never really
see her.”
“No, she was visitin’ here when I
used to see so much of her. That’s
whatshe’sdoin now. Goin’ to-morrer,
she said.”
“How’s she look?” Mirabel re
peated the question clearly, and
turned candid eyes on him. She had
no reason for being jealous over Lucy
Miles. If Harrison had wanted her,
she had many a time assured herself,
he might have had her- But Harrison
always called her pretty, and hearing
that her heart ached and her lips grew
mutinous-
Harrison was speculating over her
question.
"Yes,” he said, at length, “I guess
Lucy’s a mighty pretty girl, fur as
looks go. She’s got black eyes an’
black hair an’ a good skin, an’ she’s
straight as an arrer. Yes, I guess
there’s no doubt but 7/hat Lucy’s
pretty. Got any pie?”
There was a custard pie warm from
the oven, and Harrison addressed
himself to it with a fervor feminine
beauty had not challenged in him.
Mirabel ate a little brown skin on the
top of her piece.
“You sick?” inquired Harrison,
seeing it unfinished on her plate
“No,” she answered. “I ain’t
very hungry.”
“Give it to me then ’’ He ate both
pieces and rose with another sigh.
But he came back from the door
on his way out again, hearing how ,
Mirabel’s step lagged, beating
back and forth from table to pantry.
“I guess you ain’t very rugged to
day,’’ said Harrison. He put a big
hand on her shoulder and Mirabel '
brightened. “I’d lay down a spell.”
Her spirits came back in a dancing
troop. Her face dimpled delightfully,
She bent her head and dropped a kiss i
on his sleeve- 1
“No,” she said, “no. I ain’t tired.
I ain’t ever tired, this weather. Only
I got thinkin’.’’
“Well,’’ said Harrison, kindly, and
went on to the barn. i
The days when Mirabel got thinking
were not very frequent; but she waß i
conscious all the time that she did
want Harrison to like her looks- At
least, she longed to know whether he
did or not, It was partly hunger and
partly curiosity, but between them
they consumed her.
The next day the fever was still
upon her, and when, in the morning,
he told her he was going to the river
pasture fencing, to be gone all day,
she was glad. She could wash her
long red hair, and then coil it up de
cently, and by the time he came
home be ready to forget it and shake
herself down into a new calmness. It
was a sweet April morning with the
warmth of May- Harrison looked at
her almost regretfully as she ran out
to give him his little packet of lunch
where he sat in the dingle cart, ready
to go.
“I ’most wish you was cornin’,too,”
he mused- “Mebbe ’twould be kind
er damp, though, settin’ round out
doors all day long.”
“I’ve got lots to do,” said Mirabel,
gaily- “Good-by. I’ll have some
thin’ for supper ’long about six-”
When the blue cart was bobbing
away down under the old elm, she
ceased to watch it, and ran indoors,
because she meant to be so busy, and
the outside sweetness tempted her.
She hurried through her tasks with a
lick and a promise, as old Aunt Mag
used to say, the vagabond aunt who
had named her, and then got out the
little keeler, and into a bath of warm
suds let down her long, thick hair. It
was a hard task for one pair of hands,
but in half an hour she was sitting out
in the yard in the full flood of sun
light, with the hair streaming over
her shoulders, drying, and curling as
it dried. She rubbed it, and played
with it, and tossed it up to let the air
blow through it, and when the bronze
red kinks, like growing things all
alive, were clustering over her head,
she still sat there, holding up the
ends of it to let the sunlight in again.
“Good morning,” said a voice-
Mirabel gave a little cry. She
dropped her hair, and parted the
golden fleece to look at him. She
knew him at orce. He was the man
who boarded two miles away on the
Sudleigh road, and put up his great
umbrella in the midst of meadows,
and sat there painting all day long.
He was a short, stout man, with a
grayish, pointed bea.d, and eyes set
very far under straggly brows- He
carried the umbrella closed, and other
things she did not understand.
“Good morning,” said he again.
“I want to paint your hair.”
Mirabel gathered it about her, this
time like a mantle. She said nothing.
He was opening a camp-stool, and,
without looking at her, kept on talk
ing. . . .
“I guess you can give me a sitting,
can’t you? Give me all the time
you’ve got today- I’m going away
to-morrow- Wish I could stay longer,
but I sail Saturday- I didn’t know
there was such hair within a hundred
miles”
She half rose from her seat. He
seemed kind, and also irresistible,
but she felt like flying into the house,
and doing her hair up tight and firm
and not looking at it all day long
“ Why,” said he, “you mustn’t be
afraid. You wouldn’t be afraid to
have your photograph taken, now
would you ?”
“No,” said Mirabel, almost in
audibly.
“Well, then ! I only want to make
a picture of your hair. Sit still, like
a good girl, and let me do it.” He
had unstrapped other things. He
was seated before her- She could
not flee- But her face quivered a lit
tle. She felt as if she were going to
cry. He had been dabbing colors on
his palette, and row he leaned back
and looked at her, his head on one
side. She felt her chin trembling.
“That’s right,” he said. “Part it
a little more away from your face.
That’s good. I want you to seem to
be looking through it. There, that’s
exactly right.’’ Then he began to
work-
Mirabel’s chin shook more and
more, but he either did not see it, or
he did not seem to mind. Suddenly
he began talking. It might have
been to himself, though it sounded
partly as if he were reading from a
book.
“Once upon a time there was a lit
tle girl, and she had red hair. Why!”
he glanced at her with a queer sur
prise in his lifted eyebrows, “it was
just like yours. Isn’t that odd ?
Well, she went to school with other
girls, and none of them had red hair.
None of the boys had, except one,
and his was a real carroty red, and he
was all freckles. On his hands, too ”
“Lester Pritchard!” called Mirabel
“How’d you know?” Her voice
surprised her, it was so sharp and
loud-
His eyes twinkled in their ambush
“ There’s always one like that,” he
said- “Well, the girl kept on grow
ing and growing and growing till she
couldn’t grow any longer, because
she was grown up- And her hair
kept growing and growing and grow-
THE UNION ESTABLISHED 1850 j
THE NEWS ESTABLISHED 1905 j
ing, too, and it always grew longer if
it wanted to: but when it got the
right length it stopped. But it was
always red hair.
Mirabel was watching him keenly
from her glistening covert.
“And,”he said abruptly, “red hair’s
the prettiest hair there is. So that’s
all there is of that story. What’s
your name ?”
She could answer now, though she
would rather have stopped to think
over the conclusion of the story.
“Mirabel May,” she said- “My
husband’s name is Harrison May.”
“Mirabel May. Who gave you
such a pretty name ?”
Mirabel jumped in her chair and her
eyes gleamed out at him. She began
to talk tumultuously. The barriers
were down.
“Do you think it’s a pretty name ?
My aunt gave it to me. She used to
read story papers, an’ lay round out
doors, mother said, an’ she died as
poor as a rat, Mother said they all
said she would if she carried on so,
but nothin’ would stop her. I thought
maybe ’twas a funny name. I
thought maybe my hair was funny,
too.” She ceased, aghast at her own
boldness, and gathered her hair again
under her chin. The stranger was
smiling at her kindly and pausing
with his brush in air.
“Sit still,” he said, as if he were
gentling a horse. “I’ll tell you an
other story. This is the story of the
picture they made out of the red hair.
Once upon a time there was a grown
up girl that had red hair. She looked
just like you. Maybe it was you.
One day an old man came limping
along to her gate- He just
like me. Maybe he was me. ‘Hul
lo !’ says he to himself. ‘Here’s a
girl with red hair.’ So he sat down
and painted all day long, and the
girl sat still, very still—don’t wiggle
round so. You’ll hearthe story if it’s
ever finished, and I guess it will be.
And he painted all he could that day,
and took the picture away with him,
and painted some more as he remem
bered it, and he called the picture ‘A
Study in Red.’ And everybody came
to see it, and they all said ‘Oh, my !’
And all over the city they Baid ‘Oh,
my !’ for two weeks by the clock, till
the painter had to pack up his um
brella and his canvas and his camp
stool and run away because he was so
deafened by hearing them say ‘Oh,
my I’”
Mirabel’s cheeks were blooming
rose with the wonder of the hour.
She began to talk herself, but she
could think of only two things to say,
though she had said them once al
ready.
“I thought maybe my name was
funny.”
“Mirabel May,” he repeated. “No!
no! That isn’s funny. It’s nice.
Mistress Mirabel May!”
“I thought maybe my hair was
homely, too-”
He smiled at her, and shook his
head over his painting.
“No! no!” he said. “No! no!
You sit still and maybe I’ll tell you
another story about that. Do you
mind the sun on your head ?”
“No, oh, no,” said Mirabel, in a
vague happiness. “I like it.”
There were soft flying clouds in the
sky. They dappled the grass with
shade. The birds were very busy
that morning, singing and weaving.
The road was quite deserted- No
body went to market and nobody
came to spend the day. More and
more it seemed to Mirabel that she
and the stranger were in a new place
where she had never set foot before
and where she liked to be.
At noon he lay down his brush. He
knew it was twelve o’clock by his hun
ger and she knew it by the shadows
on the grass.
“Well!” he said, in a tone of satis
faction.
“I’ll run in and cook some eggs,”
said Mirabel. “Do you like milk ?”
He did. His smile told her. At
the door she paused and looked back
at him timidly. “Won’t you come
in,” she asked “and rest?”
“In a minute,” said the stranger,
and while she cooked the eggs he
walked about and stretched himself,
smoking a short black pipe- When
the meal was set out, she called him.
The stranger was very hungry, and he
liked everything; but Mirabel only
ate a little bread and milk, perhaps
because she felt so solemn- After it
was over and he had gone out to
smoke another pipe, she left her dishes
standing, and hastily let down her
hair- Like a modest hand-maid, she
appeared before him in the yard.
You want me to sit down again?”
she asked, in a fervent faithfulness-
He nodded, and they took their
places, and that afternoon he worked
in silence- When the sun was low,
he looked up at her with a different
smile, as if they had both been in
the picture together, and now they
had come out of it.
“There, child, he said, “that’ll do.
We’ve done all we can.”
“Have you finished it?” asked
Mirabel. Her eyes were large and
seeking. She was pale- At last
she began to feel how stiff she was
“ Come and look at it,” said the
stranger.
She went timidly round to his side
and looked. She gazed at it a long
time, and then she took up a strand
of her hair and studied that.
"You think it’s pretty ?” she asked
him-
He answered gravely.
“It’s very pretty, Mirabel. We’ve
done a good day’s work.”
“You satisfied ?” She interrogated
him like a child.
He nodded, again gravely
“ Yes, I’m satisfied- Now, I must
pack up my traps-”
While he did it with deft hands,
she stood absently watching him
She still looked pale and her eyee
were tired Glancing at her he hesi
tated. His hand sought his pocket
“I want—” he began- “I know
you’ll let me give you a little remem
brance to—”
“No! no!” Bhe cried- Her voict
Consolidated 1900
was sharp with protest. “No, I
couldn’t”
“You wouldn’t —” he lifted a little
charm on his watch chain and looked
at it
“No, no,” said Mirabel again- She
did not know how to tell him that he
had given her already everything he
had to give
“ Well ” He considered a moment-
Then he smiled at her as he had when
he told the stories- “I know what
I’ll do,” he said comfortably. “I’ve
got a little picture of the Long Mead
ows down below here—with the wil
lows by the edge- You’d like that-
Yes, I know you would- I’ll send it
to you tomorrow when I go- And
thank you, Mirabel. Thank you ”
He took off his hat and stretched out
his hand- She laid hers in it, and
smiled gratefully at him- Then he
picked up all his traps, and she walk
ed with him to the gate and stood
there watching him as he went away.
Once he turned and smiled at her.
“Good-by!” she called- “Good-by!’’
When Harrison came home from
the river pasture the supper-table
was ready in the sitting-room, and
there were ham and eggs. Mirabel,
her hair done tidily and her face a lit
tle pale but very happy, was ready to
pour his tea and listen to his story of
the day- It was not until he had fin
ished that he looked about him and
realized the festival aspect of the best
china and the table spread in the
“company room- ’
“What makes ye eat in here ?” he
asked, not complainingly, but with
an acquiescent interest.
; Mirabeldid not answer directly. She
, pushed back her plate and leaned her
■ white arms on the table
, “Harrison,” said she, “there was
i somebody here today- He wanted to
i make a picture of my hair- He said
i ’twas no worse than Bittin’ for a pho
) tograph-”
“Sho!” said Harrison- ‘Where is
, it?”
, “The picture? He took it away
■ with him-”
“Was it that feller that’s be’n
i paintin’ down in the medder ?”
' “Yes”
, “How was it? Anything like?”
I A blush burned her cheek
“l don’t know,” she said, humbly.
“I don’t know’s we can tell how we
> look ourselves ”
, Harrison chuckled
“ Some on us can,” he rejoined
l “There’s Lucy Miles- She’s peek
• in’ all over herself every minute, jes’
3 like a rooster afore he crows- Jote
, Freeman spoke on’t last town-Jieet
■ in’ day. We passed her when we
were drivin’ along to the school-house •
i ‘Look there,’says he- ‘See her crook
her neck and ile her featuers- Now,
I there’s your woman, Harrison,’ says
. he; ‘a handsomer woman never
stepped, an’ she don’t know it no
i more’n the dead.’ ”
Mirabel was leaning far over her
3 plate- The red had come into her
cheeks and her eyes were shining.
! “Who did he mean, Harrison?’
i she trembled. “Who’d he mean?”
i Harrison gazed at her in slow won
der.
“Why, I told ye,” he returned.
“Was it me, Harrison?”
) “Why, yes. Who’d ye think it
1 waß „ •
r “What did you say to him, Harri
son?” she breathed- “You tell me
• what you said-”
r “Why, I don’t rightly remember
[ what I did say- Come to think of it,
i yes I do, too- ‘That’s the way with
i them real high steppers,’ says I
) ‘They don’t know there’s any odds
between them an’ anybody else !’
s Seems queer.” He was lighting his
■ pipe, on the way to the kitchen, and
i he paused to laugh a little
“ What seems queer?” she remind
• ed him, still breathlessly.
“The way things go. When I fust
' begun to shine up to you, mother she
warned me- ‘Harrison,’ says she,
t ‘she’s a handsome creatur’. < You
c dunno how she’ll turn out. Yes,
3 says I, ‘she’s the handsomest creatur
in this county, but she don’t care no
more about it’n I do.’ She lived to
3 see I was right, too. Where’s the
, strainer pail?”
i Mirabel flew out of her chair, and
brought it to him. He took it, and
3 she clung to his arm a moment,
/ laughing and crying together.
3 “Oh, Harrison,” she said “ain’t it
t wonderful?”
3 He stayed a moment, to stroke her
g hair with his clumsy hand.
r “There,” he said, tenderly. I
e guess you’ve done too much. You’re
all beat out.”
) “ *
Miles—“By the way, old man, do
_ you believe in dreams?” Giles—
j “You bet Ido ! One night about a
month ago I dreamed that an angel
t appeared at my bedside and said,
. ‘Prepare for the worst,’ then disap
y peared.” Miles-“ Well ?” Giles
‘ ‘The very next day our cook left, and
, my wife has been doing the cooking
ever since-’!
“Brethren,” said a man in the
a meeting, “so many sinners are dying
every day I have come to the conclu
’• sion that hell is full. He sat down,
e when an old deacon in the amen cor
ner raised the hymn: “There’s a
6 place reserved for you, brother, a
§ place reserved for you-”
Architect (looking over site)—“l
d would suggest leaving the trees;
they’ll screen you from the gaze of
passers-by.” Client—“Mein Gott!
e Vot do you subbose I’m spentingfifty
tousend dollars on a house for!—Gut
d em down.” —Life.
A precaution.—“Ma,” said a news
it papar man’s son, “I know why edi
tors call themselves, ‘we-’ ” “Why?”
3, “So’s the man that doesn’t like the
i. article will think there are too many
!8 people for him to tackle,
i- * '
t. He —Did you shoot anything while
sv you were up in Canada? She —Yes,
i- indeed! We went out in a boat one
day and shot the loveliest rapids you
:e ever saw.

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