* »
POWDER
Absolutely Pure
The only baking powder
made from Royal Grape
Cream of Tartar
No Alum, No Lime Phosphate
Inman Items.
Grandpa Tompson has been very
sick this week
Mrs. Floyd Keyes went to Neligh to
have some dental work done last Mon
day.
Born to Mr. and Mis. Walter Green
a 7£ pound baby boy, Friday, Septem
ber, 9, 1910.
Cleave Roe and Hugh Bitner went
to Ainsworth Saturday and returned
Monday morning.
Mrs. William Goree and Mrs. D. A.
Goree drove over to Page Friday and
spent the day there.
Wilson Bitner, who has been down
at Stafford baling hay for some time,
returned home last week.
The Misses Ina. Clark and Ethel
Kildow went over to Chambers Tues
day returning Wednesday.
School began here last Monday
morning and there seems to be quite
a large attendance for the' lirst of the
term.
Rev. Goree, our District Superin
tendent of the M. E. Church, was here
Sunday evening and preached in the
Methodist Church.
Miss Ruth Evans was down from
O’Neill last Wednesday giving some
special instructions to her music
pupils of this place.
Mr. and Mrs. H. J. Abrahams and
children who have been here for the
past two months returned to their
home at Omaha Tuesday.
Elder Levi Garnet and wife went to
'Little Sioux, Iowa, last Monday where
they will attend the L. D. S. reunion
which will be held at that place this
week.
Mr. Fred Knifer and family who
’moved to Colorado about a year ago
to make their home have returned to
Inman and purchased the Falconor
property located in the north part of
town and will make their home there.
Mr. Dewitt Derby had a narrow es
cape from getting seriously hurt last
Monday, when he fell from a load of
ibaled hay. The team being a little
frightened bega n to run, the front
wheel of the wagon running over his
'loot. He is unable to work for a few
'days.
A Witty Suggestion.
At the time when Thuddeus Stevens
was a representative In congress a
member of the house who was noted
for his uncertain course on all ques
tions and who confessed that he never
Investigated a point under discussion
without finding himself neutral asked
»ne day for leave of absence.
“Mr. Speaker." said Stevens. "I do
not rise to object, but to suggest that
the honorable member need not ask
this flavor, for he can easily pair off
with himself."
Few Wits.
nim—I was confused for a bit. I con
tfess. but it took me only a moment to
■collect my wits. Her—Yes; it couldn’t
take any longer than that. Go on.”—
•Cleveland Leader.
Measures His Man.
"I enn’t say i've never told a lie.”
"Say the rest of it.”
“But I never tell a man a bigger lie
than I think he’ll believe.”—Pittsburg
Post.
Kipling’s Corncob.
-‘Did Kipling ever steal one of my
corncob pipes?” said the late Mark
Twain once.
“Never, and if he says so he’s wrong.
He tried to steal one and failed; then
he tried to steal another, but I pre
vented the theft and gave it to him,
probably the only pipe that Kipling
ever got honestly.”
Thrift.
An economical housewife drank a
quantity of silver nitrate by mistake.
The doctor, who had been hastily sum
moned. ordered large drafts of the
white of eggs to be administered.
■•‘Mary. Mary.” murmured the almost
unconscious patient, “save the yolks
for puddings!”—Success Magazine.
Judge—Have you anything to say
^before I pass sentence? Prisoner (who
iknows human nature)—Yes, my lord;
il should like you to have your dinner
tbefore yon pass sentence upon me.—
iLondon Scraps.
jBurton’s Luck|
| He Rode on the Back of an X.
Angry Bull. ¥
| By CLARISSA MACKIE. §
% Copyright, 1910, by American Press X,
¥ Association. ¥
Anne Bliss unfurled a harmless look
ing white parasol that developed a
bright red lining.
Neal Burton glanced at the rosy glow
reflected on the girl's softly rounded
cheek and met her inquiring eyes.
“How much farther to the river.
Neal?” she asked hastily.
"As if you didn’t know,” he retorted.
“You must have been there times
enough with Fuller. You needn’t be
afraid I’m going to propose to you
again.”
“I don’t wish you to!”
“You've made that very plain on
three different occasions. I*may look
at you sometimes, may I not, without
intending to throw myself at your feet
and plead for a crumb of affection?”
His bitter sarcasm stung Anne to
foolish retort.
"It would make me most uncomfort
able if you did, as I haven't even a
crumb to spare!”
Neal winced. “I don’t wish a crumb.
Anne. It’s all or nothing as far as
I’m concerned.”
“I'm sorry it must be nothing, then.”
In the adjoining pasture a sleek dark
form leisurely approached a break in
the rail fence.
The young man. eager for keener
torture to allay the dull ache of his
heart, spoke again jealously.
"Of course I’m no horny handed son
of the soil; I don’t mangle the Idng’s
English nor talk with a twang and
eat sixteen buckwheat cakes for
brenkfast. winter and summer! I can't
milk a cow. and I don't know the best
soli in which to produce giant turnips.
I do know the real estate business
from the ground up, I can provide a
home, and I can run a motor car.
These are my limitations. Speaking
of Nathan Fuller”—
“We were not speaking of him.” in
terrupted Anne coldly.
Again silence. The dark form paus
ed in the opening of the broken fence
with uplifted head.
“Are you going to that barn dance
tonight T asked Neal after awhile.
“Yes.”
"You told me when I asked you to
go that you didn’t care'for that sort of
thing."
“I changed my mind. I thought it
would be rather fun to go and meet
the country people. Their ways are so
fresh to me; they enjoy everything so
heartily. It is such a pleasant, simple
life!"
“The natives won’t enjoy themselves
much with a lot of giggling city board
ers looking on. I suppose the other
people at the farmhouse are going!”
“I—I hardly think so. Mr. Fuller in
vited me to go. I’m going to drive
over in the buggy with him.” Anne
blushed deep with embarassment un
der Neal’s sharp gaze. “Don’t look at
me like that. Neal Burton.” she added
sharply. "Nathan Fuller is a fine fel
low, and he saved my life! I might
have drowned if he had not happened
along the river when my boat upset.
You may laugh at him for a country
man, but I would like to see you do a
deed like that!"
“It is not my luck to have the op
portunity." returned Neal, his face
curiously white. “I understand what
you mean. Anne. I’m just a plain,
matter of fact sort of chap, the sort
you’ve always known, and you’re tired
of my type. If 1 may be permitted to
express the opinion—I trust Fuller will
not misunderstand your ‘gratitude’ for
something warmer.”
Anne made no reply. Her blue eyes
were fixed on the shining river which
they were approaching.
Suddenly Burton tore the red lined
parasol from her light grasp and
clutched her arm.
“Run. Anne! Run for the willow
trees and climb! It’s a bull! I’ll keep
him off! Run. I tell you!” He pushed
her toward the river, but she turned
and clung to him with a little cry of
alarm.
With a despairing gesture he tossed
the red lined parasol toward the ap
proaching beast and saw it whirl
along, its crimson silk full in the face
of the animal. Then he grasped
Anne’s arm nnd raced with her across
the intervening space toward the wil
lows.
Behind them the bull was trampling
the tantalizing sunshade into twisted
fragments. His angry bellow announc
ed that their flight had been discov
ered, and. with amazing celerity in so
clumsy u beast, he had turned and
was after them.
weal rainy tossea Anne s sugut iorm
up into the low hanging branches,
where she clung desperately. That he
was able to reach her side nnd throw
his arm about her was due to his
trained muscles, backed by a cool
head. As he braced himself against
the inclined trunk, his feet secure In
a convenient crotch below, the bellow
ing animal struck the willow tree like
a whirlwind.
As they rocked dizzily with the
swaying tree Anne clung closely to
Burton's shoulder, into which her face
was pressed. Neal smiled tenderly
down at her bright hair, while the bull
repeatedly charged the tree trunk with
Most unsatisfactory results. Presently
he desisted from the attack, and bis
1 111 1,11111
angry bellow dlmifilsi^^ wut
ter. like distant thunde^- It ^as quite
evident that he intend. ™ to wait tor
their descent from the t tt~e. He took
up his position beneath tL'® cooi shade
and waited.
Anne lifted p shamed faee.^V’Has he
gone, Neal ?” she asked meekly,
"No; he’s down there waiting, \ Per
haps he’ll get tired after awlille^nnd
go back to his pasture.”
“Can’t you find a branch for me'to
sit on?” inquired Anne from her posi
tion. supported by Neal’s willing) artn.
"I’m afraid not, but you can take
this place—there, stand so—leaning
against the trunk and brace your feet
here. Hold tight to this little branch
on either side.”
“Where are you going to stay?”
asked Anne uneasily. "I’ve driven yon
from the only safe position, only—you
see—I couldn’t”— She paused help
lessly.
"Of course you couldn’t,” returned
Neal easily. “I shall take a lower
stand—no danger—he can’t touch me.
Somebody’ll be after him presently, it’s
growing late. Too bad we missed our
row on the river.”
A half hour passed in silence. Anne
leaned wearily against the tree trunk,
her eyes fixed on the river below, Neal,
most uncomfortably astride of a slen
der branch that bent dangerously un
der his weight, sincerely wished that
it would not be Nathan Fuller who
came to their rescue. That bucolic
youth’s contempt for "city fellers” ran
kled In the bosom of one who had been
at the front in college athletics, who
had spent a vacation on a Wyoming
ranch and learned to ride a bucking
broncho.
"I suppose wo couldn’t make any one
hear even if we called ever so loud,”
suggested Anne dubiously. “If—if Mr.
Fuller were only around he might
know what to do.” She voiced the
thought half consciously and flushed at
Neal’s snort of contempt
“Mr. Fuller, even though he has gen
erations of stock raising ancestors be
hind him, cannot change a maddened
bull into a lamb and lead him away
by a blue ribbon. Unless the animal’s
attention is attracted elsewhere or he
is captured by strategy I don’t see how
either of us can get away.” Neal
paused and seemed to debate some
question within himself. He looked
down at the bull.
"\vnat were you going to say/
questioned Anne.
“Merely that I might drop down on
the beast’s back and thus get him
away from your vicinity—that might
give you an opportunity to seek as
sistance from Mr. Fuller—and at the
same time relieve you of my compan
ionship." Neal’s voice was bitter as
he voiced this sentiment.
“You couldn’t do that—you might be
killed.” protested Anne, ignoring his
sarcasm.
At that Instant something happened.
The bull lifted an ugly black head,
rolled a malicious red eye and hdn
grlly nipped at the drooping willow
branch where Neal sat The flexible
limb dipped down, down, and sudden
ly Neal lost his grip of small twigs
and slid quickly down the slippery
branch. landing squarely astride of
the animal’s broad back.
Instinctively his hands grasped the
smooth little horns before the frighten
ed beast dropped his head and swung
around. As the willow branch whip
ped upward Neal heard Anne’s desper
ately frightened cry:
“Neal! Neal! Neal!” Then he was
away on his mad ride. They mounted
a rise of ground, and she closed her
eyes and prayed.
When she opened them again she
did not look at the field. She turned
her gaze down to the river, where a
boat floated close under the willows.
Id the boat were Nathan Fuller and a
very pretty girl. The girl was speak
ing, half sobbing, then Nathan's
voice In reply: “I can’t help it, Lucy.
She as good as asked me to take her
tonight. It’s just city folks’ ways.
You know I don’t care about any one
but you!”
“If you take that girl tonight I
shan’t speak to you again!” flashed
Lucy tearfully. “She wants to marry
you. I know she does!”
Anne’s face was scarlet with morti
fication. Her silly gratitude toward
Nathan Fuller because he had saved
her life had nearly turned Lucy’s ro
mance Into a tragedy. Anne leaned
forward and spoke:
“Mr. Fuller!” When they had turned
startled faces upward she told her
story, and as Nathan hastened ashore
In quest of Neal she added to the girl
who stared at her resentfully: “You
see, I am engaged to Mr. Burton. I
am doubly anxious for his welfare.”
Lucy smiled understanding^ and
helped Anne down from her perch In
the tree Just as Nathan returned with
Neal, who limped slightly.
Declining Nathan’s offer to row them
home, they stood by the river’s brink
until the two In the boat had disap
peared around the bend. Then Neal
turned to Anne, standing with down
cast eyes and nervously plucking
hands.
“Anne,” ho said quietly, “I shall
never again ask you to marry me."
“I don’t blame you—I’m such an ar
rant coward, nnd there’s really noth
ing likable about me,” admitted Anne
shakily. “You must let me tell you—I
think you were very brave to do what
you did. It was splendid.”
“It was an accident. It was pure
good luck.” returned Neal calmly,
then insistently, “I shall never again
ask you to marry me, Anne, because
Nathan has just told me he heard you
announce our engagement to Miss
Lucy."
Anne was crying now softly.
“Do you love me, darling?” asked
Neal, bis arms around her.
Anne’s rosy face pressed close to tils
own was sufficient answer.
TRAClNQ COUNTERFEITS.
Exciting Employment For Skilled Se
cret Service Men.
Tbe tracing of counterfeit bills back
to the persons responsible for their Is
sue is a curious and exciting employ
ment. The expert assigned by the
government to this work are among
the most skillful members of the se
cret service. The protection of the
currency depends In large measure up
on their efficiency, and the pains they
take are almost Infinite. The follow
ing case is one Illustrating the diffi
culties which the secret service people
meet and overcome:
A bank clerk In Cleveland had de
tected a counterfeit twenty dollar bill
In the deposit of a small retail grocer.
An expert was sent for and under
took the case.
He found that the grocer had re
ceived the bill from a shoe dealer, who
had It from a dentist, who had It from
somebody else, and so on, until the
secret service man finally traced the
bad note to an Invalid woman who
had used It to pay her physician.
When questioned this woman said that
the money had been sent her by her
brother, who lived in New Orleans.
The sleuth looked up the brother's
antecedents and soon became con
vinced that he was the man wanted.
The brother, however, soon proved to
the satisfaction of the secret service
man that his suspicions were unfound
ed. Indeed. It appeared that the mon
ey had been received by the New Or
leans mnn In part payment for rent
of a house ho owned In rittsburg.
While the sleuth was a bit discour
aged. he couldn’t give over the case
when he had gone so far, so he took
the next train for Pittsburg.
The tenant of the house In Pitts
burg proved to be a traveling oculist
who spent most of his time In the mid
dle west The secret service man had
the good luck, however, to catch him
just as he had returned from a trip,
and the man at once recognized the
bud bill as one that had been given
him by a patient In Cleveland, the
very point whence the sleuth started.
The patient was a boss carpenter.
The secret service man got his address
from the oculist and went right after
the new clew. At this point he had a
premonition that something was going"
to happen, and be wasn’t disappointed.
The carpenter, an honest old fellow,
said that he had received the bill from
a certain Parker. The said Parker
was the small grocer in whose bank
deposit the counterfeit had turned up.
The expert flow to the grocer’s as
quickly as a cab could take him and
found it closed. He had left town.
Afterward It was shown beyond
question that the grocer was the agent
of an organized band of counterfeiters.
His shop was a mere blind. That the
bill which he gave the carpenter
should get back Into his own funds
after traveling all over the continent
was one of those miracles of chance
for which there Is no explanation.—
Chicago Record-Herald.
A Dean Ramsay 8tory.
Dean Ramsay’s memoirs contain an
anecdote of an old woman of Starth
spey. Just before her death she sol
emnly Instructed her grandnephew,
“Willy, I’m deeln’, and as ye’ll hae the
charge o’ a’ I have, mind, now, that as
much whisky Is to be used at my fu
neral as there was at my baptism."
Willy, having no record of the quan
tity consumed at the baptism, decided
to give every mourner as much as he
wished, with the result that the fu
neral precession, having to traverse
ten miles to the churchyard on a short
November day, arrived only at night
fall. Then It was discovered that the
mourneis, halting at a wayside Inn,
had rested the coffin on a dike and
left It there when they resumed their
Journey. The corpse was a day late
In arriving at the grave.
Interest In Aneient Days.
As a rule, the ancients frowned upon
the Idea of Interest They called It
usury, and, except In the case of
wardships and trusts, when the law
Insisted upon money being usefully in
vested they looked upon the man who
lived by Investments as a bad char
acter and his trade as a disreputable
one. Even Aristotle, a most advanced
thinker In many respects, talked most
energetically against money, calling It
a "barren thing, which could produce
nothing without violating nature." It
was not until the crusades that the
money lender had any standing or re
spectability In Europe.—New York
American.
Sunday Traveling.
Old time acts of parliament In Great
Britain aimed to stop Sunday travel
ing. In 1609, for example, two men
were found guilty of the crime of
walking from Bristol to Bath on a
Sunday and were at once fined 20 shil
lings ($4.80) each. All business was at
a standstill on a Sunday. Nothing
was allowed to be sold except milk.
For all the traders of England the
milkman, and the milkman alone, was
allowed to pursue his calling for the
whole seven days of the week.
Easy.
“Is that car on this train?”
“No; he was switched off at the Junc
tion.”
“ ’He’ was? Why not *she?’ ”
“This was a mall car.”—Toledo
Blade.
Hs Knew the Brand
First Actor—When I was In Africa 1
was nearly billed by the bursting of a
shell. Second Actor—Oh, who threw
the egg?—Loudon M. A. P.
Pure love cannot merely do all, but
Is all.—Uichter.
I? Intellectual !
Courtship |
It I# a Very Different Affair ' J J
From Simple Love. J *
By EDITH B. ARNOLD. T |
& Copyright, 1910, by American Praia * <ji>
T Association. ^
Miss Margaret Lyall took all the de
grees ot the under and post graduate
university courses. Being possessed
of an independent income. It was not
necessary for her to make a living, but
she was so clever that the college sent
her abroad to study for a professor
ship. She returned with an additional
foreign degreo and assumed the chair
for which she had been preparing her
self.
When Miss Professor Lyall was
twenty-seven yenrs old It occurred to
her that after all she would prefer to
bo a wife and mother to growing old
as a teacher. If she were to choose
the more natural course It was high
time she were doing so. She was con
sidered a very attractive womnn and
was comely. She had had a number
of offers, but had not been thinking of
marriage and for this rcnson had ac
cepted nono of them. Now, having
determined to wod, she looked over the
list of her suitors and settled on Royal
Richardson, a journalist
Mr. Richardson was editor in chief
of a large newspaper. lie was a high
ly educated and a forceful man. There
Is no place In the world whore exact
ness. system and, above all, a quick
rosourco are more essential than In the
makeup of a dally newspaper. Mr
Richardson had a quiet dignified way
with him that carried great weight.
“That match,” every one said, “is
between one of nature’s highest type
of men and the samo grnde of women
Such a couple united should produce
Important results for good. What a
splendid spur the one for the other!”
"No doll wife for me,” said Mr. Itlch
nrdson. “Give me a woman with n
brain in her hond!” “If l am to be
married,” said Miss Lyall, ”1 prefer a
man who Is certainly not my Inferior.
If ho Is my superior I will follow his
load, for that is a law of nature. If
he should turn out to bo of poorer
judgment tbnn I, then that same law
will compel him to submit to my de
crees."
Two persons were especially disap
pointed at this engagement. One was
Walter Fairbanks, a quiet, unobtru
sive man several years younger thnn
Miss Lyall. Not being blgbly educat
ed himself—he had gone Into business
at seventeen—he bad a profound ad
miration for Professor Lyall. It
was the acme of his desires to have
such a woman for his wife. It would
be like an Intellectual beggar marry
ing one with an intellectual fortune.
The other disappointed person wns
Miss Lucy Brooks, a girl of twenty,
whose knowledge had been gained in a
public school, but whose heart was as
fresh as a rose and exhaled as much
fragrance upon all who knew her. She
had long worshiped Mr. Richardson
from a distance, but considered him so
far above her that it was madness for
her to aspire to be his wife.
No sooner hnd Professor Lyall be
come engaged to Mr. Richardson thnn
she began to take an interest in bis
paper. She liked to pick out editorials
In which she could see his vigorous
opinions expressed In his terse, pun
gent style. But one day she noticed
what she had not discovered before.
She was much interested In the na
tional problems of the day and sym
pathized with every movement calcu
lated to bring the trusts under a proper
legal subjection. Mr. Richardson had
given In his editorials an Impression
that this was the policy of his paper.
But in an article which bore every evi
dence of having been written by him
he made use of the term "trust bust
er.” The next time he met his fiancee
Bhe said to him:
"Royal, I supposed the policy of your
paper was to advocate the regulation
of the trusts by law.”
“My dear Margaret, the policy of a
newspaper is an unknown quantity to
any one except Its manager.”
“Will you kindly explainV”
Mr. Richardson for the moment for
got that he was not in bis editorial
chair. It seemed an icicle rather thnn
a sentence that came through his cold
lips. ,
“Yes; I will explain by saying that 1
alone dictate the policy of my paper.”
Miss Lyall looked at him with aston
ishment. "And 1 alone,” she said,
"will decide as to the man I will mar
ry. lie shall not be one who would
make use of the obnoxious expression
‘trust buster.’ ”
She strode majestically out of the
room and upstairs.
Mr. Richardson departed with a com
plication of feelings. He was disap
pointed, angered, hurt For the first
time he had been Interfered with In
his life work. His eyes were opened
to the fact that the high grade of
character, of Intellect, he had wished
In a wife had in this case at least
proved a boomerang. If he had been
called to account by another his feel
ings would not have been the least ruf
fled. But be had formed the very im
portant plan of marrying Miss Lyall,
and he saw that such a union would
necessitate the rooting up of the main
hnbit of his life.
“Good morning, Mr. Richardson,”
came a soft voice, and, looking aside
as he walked, he met the amiable
smile of Miss Brooks. It was like a
8UHshlne breaking through a
y cloud. He turned and Joined
For an hour he walked beside
5fe, ,ateaIaS to her prattle, scarcely
SS the «irl all the while
fT. i b°lm °n h,s Perturbed feel
He Went »«»«» her to her home,
nn« ltiwas another hour before he left.
1WI89' Lyall suffered the same per
turc-edascnsatlons. and as Mr. itlcbard
son bad been comforted by Miss
Brooks sbe turned to Walter Fair
banks for similar treatment if a
person.of strong mind becomes balked
and consequently Irritated there is a
craving for some one—not to rely on
for advice, but to whet opinions upon.
Miss Lyall made an excuse to send
for Mr. Fairbanks in order that she
might have a dummy to pound. Mr.
Fairbanks proved himself udmirabiy
suited to the purpose. Not capable of
understanding that higher role of ele
vating by an unceasing flow of Infor
mation which is the great work of
newspapers, he saw only the blemishes
resting on the press. When Miss Lyall
told him of her disagreement with Mr.
lllchardson he was surprised that she
did not know that bis paper was own
ed by a combination of Industrial mag
nates. This opened Miss Lyall's eyes
not only to the fact of an entire ab
sence of sympathy between her and
the man who was employed to oppose
views she held very strongly, but that
there was, after all, a comfort in com
ing down with her aeroplane and hav
ing a heart to heart talk on the earth’s
surfaco with a man who knew what
was going on there.
uui mr. mcnarason before nny an
nouncement was made of the break
ing of the engagement concluded to
make an effort to set mutters right be
tween him and his fiance. He called
upou her, and she cutue down with a
disappointed look on her face.
"I have called to say. Margaret,” ho
began, "that perhaps you are not aware
that a newspaper Is not exclusively' a
concorn for dispensing noble Ideas. No
ble Ideas there may be In It, but they
would not be there at all If the paper
had no means for Its publication. Un
less a newspaper can be made to
pay”—
"Ilns that anything to do with pre
tending to advocate Ideas and at the
same time sneering at them?"
“1 don’t admit”—
“What Is your definition of the tern
trust buster?”
"A trust buster? Why, intrust buster
Is one who advocates breaking up those
combinations which are essential to
business at the present day."
“But I don’t admit that they are
essential"
"Certnlnly your* opinion can have
nothing to do with the management of
the paper 1 edit”
“If the paper you edit Is the exponent
of the principles, or, rather, the want
of principles, of the man I am to marry
It certainly Is of great Importance to
me.”
“I am employed to carry out the
policy laid down by the owners of the
paper.”
"Why, then, do you pretend to carry
out opposing Ideas?”
“Margaret, a newspaper Is a prac
tical afTalr. It must have advertise
ments; to secure advertisements It
must have circulation; to have circu
lation It must have readers. Readers
are of various opinions. One must
steer a middle course to”—
"Enough! You, the man with whom
I had decided to unite my very being,
have no principles of your own”—
“My principles are my own; the pa
per’s principles nre Its own."
“Then If you were paid to advocate
anarchy and assassination you would
do so without a qualm of conscience."
“Margaret," ho said, changing bis
tone to one of despondency, “If our
union Is to be one of argument Instead
of simple love It will be a failure."
“And unless 1 marry a man whose
principles are not for sale It will be a
failure.”
“You are impracticable.”
“Goodby!”
Mr. Richardson and Miss Lyall bad
again found themselves In the position
Of tllOfift
Birds of tempest loving kind
Thus beating up against the wind.
though neither of them loved the
tempest. They were obliged by their
nature to beat up against it. Again
they sought solace in the sympathy of
their Intellectual Inferiors. Mr. Rich
ardson called on Miss Brooks, and
Miss Lyall called in Walter Fairbanks.
Richardson sat on a sofa beside the
lithe, laughing girl, rested by her
every innocent word, by her every
daiuty motion and more than all by
that perpetual smile which hovered
over her lips. She cared nothing for
the policy of his paper, and. as to his
principles, she did not for a moment
doubt that they were noble. A lock of
his hair fell down over his forehead,
and with the touch of her waxen fin
gers she put it back in place, laughing
ns she did so. He took the fingers in
his hand and kissed them. Then he
kissed her. That settled it
Miss Lyall talked to Walter Fair
bunks about her conversation with
Richardson. He listened to her with
out a word, looking at her the while
with a pair of sympathetic eyes.
Whenever she said, “Am I right?” he
replied, “You are,” and when she said,
“Am I wrong?” he said. "You are not”
In other words. Miss Lyall got from
Mr. Fairbanks what she wanted. And
so in time she became accustomed to
getting what she wanted and found it
more convenient to place Mr. Fair
banks where she could have him all
the time. She married him.
Mr. Richardson and Miss Lyall meet
occasionally and have intellectual
talks. She considers him a brilliant
man. but without principle. He con
siders her a very smart woman, but
educated in a theoretic. Impractical
school. Each is very happy at borne.