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THE COURIER.
12
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CLEVELAND
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THEUTTLE LADY.
KATHABIHE MELICK.
( FrfrTbOoufier. )
"Why yes," said the Little Lady to
the Cynical School ma'am "you may
come in and talk it over. I don't know
whether you will be pleased."
The school ma'am was just enough
unaccustomed to having her pleasure
consulted, in the matter of board, to
feel something like a tingle of her jaded
nerves. She entered a small gate in an
arbor vitae hedge, and trod a narrow
walk, bo narrow that she wondered
whether sheshou'ld step on the hearts
ease, alongside. That would have been
ruthless, with the mistress of the flow
ers following, her broom still brushing
a justalien October leaf.
'That step is all right if you keep in
the middle'' it didn't look a step at all,
but a simple soap box, twelve inches
square, beyond, which peril, a purple
cut rolled worsted eyes at you from a
door mat about as large as a plate.
, "There, the screen is caught inside.
Pjuat came out by the kitchen door.
Excuse me a minute, if you please."
ThVlkvehdar gown and the" lavendar
bonnet flitted round the wisp of a walk,
and the school ma'am studied the struc
ture of a pyramid of stones by the
"etep," long crystal spar and green cop
per formations and slabs of rock crusted
over with ebiniDg nuggets, until the
letch clicked.
'Come in and take this chair, please.
That one is a little shaky. They were
part of my wedding furniture, bo they're
pretty old.
What a pink flush rises to the cheeks
of the tiny dame. And what a verita
ble curiosity shop of a houde. What
nots filled with coral, shells, sea-weed.
Glass cases with wax work. Hair
wreaths in frames. Stuffed ducks and
wax fishes, and feather flowers. "1
know there'll be a looking glass with
peacock plumes out here in the next
room," said the school ma'am in her
mind. Aloud she remarked:
"They are not as old as those brass
candle sticks, I think. You have a per
feet treasure house."
"It's all old, like myself. But those
candle sticks are relics. We can trace
them back for nearly two hundred years,
and they're older than that. Let me
BOQW.'your, There; 1'Vo knocked down
that piece of lava. Never mind. I'll
eet it. A friend of mine took that red
hot, out of the crater of Vesuvius."
Half an hour later the school ma'am
emerged from the little front door and
walked, oblivious, over the purple cat
and the soap box.
"I'll come tomorrow morning for
breakfast," had been her parting, and
she felt that her fairy god mother was
to brew chocolate, and crisp toast for
her.
In the morning, the peacock plumes
became a reality. They framed a dres
ser glass, over which a wax hen pre
sided, Huffing very yellow feathers over
a prodigious setting of eggs.
"I've made a good deal of wax work
in my time," said the little lady, follow
ing her boarder's glance. "Of course
it was for my grand-children. Shall I
pour your chocolate now, or wait till
you finish your biscuit?'
A composite picture of all her former
landladies rose before the school
ma'am's eyes. It accompanied every
motion of the old tortoise shell comb,
set in the white waves of the little lady's
hair. Eve.rylock, in.the pbanbjm pic
ture stood grimly erect wben for tne
eleventh time the gray head rose solicit
ously from a plate yet untouched.
It was not to bring fresh toast nor to
pour fresh chocolate. It was not to
take away a superfluous dish, nor to
bring one, not even to stir the coals in
the tiny doll's stove that made .faces at
cooking, from five lunettes of tsinglasF,
set in a row across its black face. It
was as difficult to take that stove ser
iously, as it is to consider with gravity
the'eountenance of a nodding toy man
darin. In consequence of all which,
even the iron mask of the school
ma'am's features relaxed when the
miniature dame, standing beside her
miniature fire, and looking with anxi
ety from table to hearth, and from
chocolate pot to silver caster, at last
urged:
"Isn't there anything else you want?"
"0ly to have you sit down please,"
and the boarder choked a little over the
smile she was swallowing.
She lived to be ashamed of the smile.
It was not when the conversation slip
ped easily from the quaint Japanese
butter plates to the Washington where
they were found, the Washington of
forty years ago, to which a young doc
tor brought a young bride. It was not
when the thin silver recalled the Can
ton home, and the Hefner put in:
"You were born in Canton, then?
And have known the president's family,
and his "wife's?"
Nor when the tiny dame's head poised
a trifle more stately, -as 6he.-recalled., a
dance with the father of Mrs. McKinley,
"He was a graceful dancer, Mr. Sax
tin, and I can remember how pleased
I was to be talking with the editor of
the Republican. I wore my first party
gown; it was a large wedding; but we
talked mostly about the underground
railway."
"Was the editor tall?"
"Yes. He bent his head to listen to
little me, in a linen lawn dress with
shoulder puffs and lace undersleeves."
It was then, indeed, that th6 corner
whatnot, with its grottoes of crystal,
holding starfish and metal buttons, pink
coral and dolls' heads, sea urchins and
wax strawberries, began to seem like
the wreck of worlds. It was longer be.
fore they told their story of the weary
guest of the young doctor for his own
relief from a nerve racking torture, a
quest tbat dragged over range after
range of giant hills, and ended where
all quests end at last.
Then, with a lurch in the adjustment
of the "me" and the "not me," as when
a mirror into which you gaze, tilts ab
ruptly, the cynical school ma'am regard
edher land lady. All those anxious
worries
"I'm afraid your soup is cold. Lat me
give you some hot"
In a flash they became eloquent of
the anxious watches and the petulant
reproaches of seven sorrowful years.
"He never was unkind, doctor wasn't.
He often worried because he couldn't
help beiDg impatient when he suffered
most. But he never was unkind. Let
me pour you some more coffee. Just a
little. Won't you?"
BBIBBlBJJSBBBBHHHBHHBH9BJBBBBBBBWk
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With horseshoe checkered swathing bands
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Slip of the Tongue.
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Smith What! with such a hand?
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"What a fine looking fellow tbat is in
the friezd Raglan and the Alpine hat!"
"Why, that's my sister!"
Now is the time
I
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ANNDA
We are having our
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BI3 0STMEET.
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