The interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1872-1881, 1874-09-11
a SITUATION.

"islNis'u WIN uaZZilng OutDursts u
sunshine, but now a pclting, merciles
torrent rushed sharply downward, gather
ing vehemence from past delay.
And there stood Bcssy in the midst q
it, one pretty foot stretched doubtiully
outward to feel for stepping stone amid,
the torrent that swept over the crossing
Quite by accident, of course, Young
Brownley, dawdling at the depot, in
doubt whether to take the next train
caught sight Of this vision, as he drummed
with idle fingers on the gray-green panes
of the uaiting-room. 1t was quite by &C.
cidcnt also, Of course, that in second
after this he was crossing the street a
little further up, armed with big UNI
brella. As Bessy, still doubtful glanced
rucfully about to see if she could reach
the nearest tree, or had better brave it
out, thisstranger, picking his way through
mud and wet, stood by her side.
Now we all know that it does not do
for a woman TO overstep conventional
limits; she must keep to the bars of her
gilded cage, and twitter happily behind
them. To allow a gentleman to speak to
her without an introduction, even if he
&ere on raft, while she foated by, 90
Ing politely to the bottom, would be a
thing Of very doubtful etiquette. But
down came the shower, and there stood
Bessy without an umbrella. Under
some circumstances, it must be owned,
conventionalism makes poor show be-
side savageism, and young Brownley,
having more or less of the savage linger-
ing about him, prohered his umbrella. 1t
was promptly accepted by the girl, who
had evidently far less regard for the pro-
prieties Of life than for her dripping
dress.
"Oh, dear!" she said, ats com pletely
spoiled, suppose. This is the second
time I've started out to see poor Tom,
and been stopped by the rain. Ihope it
won't rain this way every afternoon"
"lalmost hope that it will" said her
companion, glancing at the bright,
flushed face beside him. 81 Railways carry
an umbrella"
Now il must be confessed that this
commendable prudence and foresight had
sprung up in the young man within the
last ten minutes. But what Of that? Re
form must begin at some time, | pre-
sumo.
have observed that, as a rule, most
heroes of romance are well provided for.
They have higher sphere of troubles
than the mere harassment of looking for
bread and butter. And right enough it
should be so, say /. 1t is a pity if We
can not have a place of refuge, between
book cover at least, where the contempt
bic commonplace of life il not thrust
upon us. All hail to the heroes with
rich uncles and old aunts, and good
humored mole-eyed grandmothers, and
forthcoming legacies! I'm sorry can't
place my hero among them; but he's an
intensely everyday fellow, not fit for
such high society. He hasn't even dis
tant relative in India with one foot in
the grave. q.
The fact is, the youth had actually
come up to Evansville looking for stu
alton in the big country store of Wander
4 Co., and what is more, he'd been re-
fused it.
But here, however, with the incorrigi-
BILE hopefulness of youth, he walked
along beside Bessy, and forgot all about
it. lie expected to leave her at some
cottage gate near by, and so he did pre-
sently. A pretty low-roofed house stood
just in sight, with a row of red and white
hollyhocks nodding up to its caves. A
scarlet-runner, dripping and shining in
the shower, halfhid little window facing
ON the lane, wherein fantastic assem-
blage of spools, beads, and jars of con-
iectionery looked out with an eye to
trade.
The girl flung open the gate.
won't you come INF" she said.
" Aunt Polly will be glad to see you"
"No, thank YOU" said the young man,
staring stupidity after her, as she disap-
peared among the hollyhocks.
"Lives there, does she ?" he said, con-
templating the tiny shop-window. "rm
too late for the train to-day. Guess I'll
call in tomorrow. Wonder if they keep
fishing lines"
The next morning, after lounging about
the village, and trying vainly to get a
sense Of his situation, or rather want of
one, young Brownley brushed his coat
with extraordinary care.
"No signs OF shower to-day" he said
as he strolled up the road. Wonder il
I'd better take the train?'
Aud with that he turned up the lane
toward the little shop. A lean old wo
man, in wide-frilled cap and wrinkled
face, sat rocking herself in the doorway,
She looked up as the gate latch clicked ;
IA great cat purring at her feet rose
sleepily, curling its tail, as the intruder
entered. Fishing lnes?" The old
woman set about fumbling, spectacled
search among her motley stock, but none
were 10 be found. lie could get them up
at Squire Vander's big store in the vii
lage. All well, the young man recol-
lectcd just then that he wanted some
thread. lie was often in want of a bit Ia
sew button ON with. "Poor young fell
howl" said Aunt Polly to herself, com
miscratingly; boarding, ! suppose "
And needles? would he have needless
lie couldn't get no better than her'n any
where. No, 10 be sure not. And while
the good woman WAS putting up a parcel
sufficient 10 restore all the stray buttons
In Christendom, her customer sat ex-
pectan,, waiting, but not for the package;
perhaps trim little figure nigh, sud
'lenly align, in the room. coming In IRE"