The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1876-11-23

he don't admire dark women. I mean
the whole character seems to have
changed. He is, reserved mot as agrees.
able and pleasant as he used to be-
critical and satirical and Bob says he is
growing into sort of woman-hater--
declares he will never marry, because
he can never love one of the women of
to-day So don't fall in love with him,
Rhoda." saleEf =
"Won't marry because he couldn't
love one OF the women of to-dayi' [
suppose any one of them stands ready
to fail into his arms at his asking! You
needn't warn me, auntie. dislike the
man." was Rhoda's sharp retort.
'sWell, I'm sure Phil is a nice enough
fellow, but never should want to mar
ry him." said Maud. "I'm like YOU.
Rhoda; couldn't stand pair of red
whiskers and mnstache close to nv
lips!" and Maud shuddered very much
as Rhoda had done few days before.
"Mr. Farnham's whiskers are not
really-red. Do you think so, Maud?
| should call them more of a blonde
brown" replied Rhoda, not noticing
the sly glances Maud exchanged with
her mother at this sudden change of
opinion in one who had c0lored the red
whiskers and mustache herself not
ten days ago!
"Farnham's an odd fellow,n ex-
claimed Bob, who had come into the
room just as Rhoda had pronounced
Mr.. Farnham's whiskers sbrown."
"I've been trying to get him enthusi-
astle over our masquerade, and he
won't even say he will stay until the
night of the ball. He's tired of the
beach. Now, Rboda, if you were only
blonde, you might have smitten him
with your charms; and, through you,
| might have persuaded him to remain.
| don't know, however, that l wish he
liked you, for
.'For what?" interrupted Rhoda,
quickly.
"Oh, you'd never suit one another,
that's all. But needn't bother my
self. He doesn't admire squaws, and
you hate red whiskers; so there isn't
the least danger of your fancying one
another
''Wel, Miss Merton is here. She's "a
pale. face I'm sure. Can't you per-
suade Mr.. Farnham. 10 stay through
her, prayP''
"No; here's tired of the beach. and
every body here, he says. So sup
pose he will go.'' f,s3.s - z y
But Mr.. Farnham did stay to the
masquerade, notwithstanding it was
postponed q week later than at first de
signed, and much beyond his proposed
time of departure. In that time, too,
lie paid such marked attention to little,
dark Miss Brent, that large, pale Miss
Merton was shocked at the perversity
OF mems tastes, and every body quite
astonished at the turn affairs had taken.
Every body, at least, but Bob Sher-
wood and his mother! az { ~
The ball was a success. Phil Farm
ham looked really very well in his COS
tune, which he copied as accurately
after Sothern's as he could; and with
his "blOnde-broWnn whiskers, quite
the cut, and few alterations in his ex-
preston, with paint and pencil, he
made a very presentable s'Dundreary. -
The usual stereotyped number of flow
er-girls, queens, knights, and peasants,
crowded the floor; but the prettiest
dancer in the room was one little Indian,
IS Minnehaha" she called herself. The
costume was pretty and unique. Decked
Oft with profusion of bright beads and
feathers, gayly ornamented moccasin
slippers, and the long, heavy plaits of
black hair hanging far below the own
IRIS waist. Altogether it was charm
ng, if not an entirely accurate study of |
IN Indian girl. n
81 think l recognize these, sweet
!" whispered &C Dundrearv.' -
'aking up one of the long braids as he
spoke, and drawing the little brown
hand through his arm for promenade.
Do not be too sure" returned the
maiden in a low tone. s' As you pale
aces are wont to call all dark maidens
squaws, I should think il might be
difficult matter to pick out one individ-
Tally in this assembly,
If this one little Indian were less
agreeable and charming in her manner
oward me, might individualize still
closer, perhaps, and whisper her true
lame, only the lady whose eyes shine
behind that mask hates red whiskers,'
md would never trouble herself to talk
o q stupid Dundreary!" i. ....s...x
- "Did Robert Sherwood tell you that?''
he mask was torn off now, and, step
ling out of the crowded room onto the
vide piazza, Rhoda Brent's flashing
yes looked up into Philip Farnham's
ace, demanding an answer.
Confidence for confidence. Did
.obert Sherwood tell you / called all
ark women ssquaws?'
Then they both laughed in each
theirs eyes, and the moon shone down
rightly upon them, the sea softly MUIR ,
lured to them, and the summer night
airs twinkled merrily over their heads.