Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1877-11-21
iously. Reuben, it is too cool for her

iously. Reuben, it is too cool for her
to go out, is it not p
"Cousin Lutte thinks she knows what
is best for her." said the doctor, dis
family"
"Im going to wrap up well, grandpa"
said Lutte, taking the shawl-a feecy
white thing-from Mr.. Spurs hand,
and arranging it around her becom-
ingly. "Please let me co." and she
kissed him and hung around him in a
way that came near making Richard
Spur crazy.
well, go along, then" said grand
pa, looking at her fondly. q don't
see why she lets that young Spur 90
with her SO much," he continued, as
they walked off arm in arm. Il hope
she won't fall in love with him."
II don't see how she could" re-.
sponded Reuben, watching them rather
grimly. "She has too much sense to
fall in love with such q rattlebrain as
he"
"My dear boy" said grandpa, slowly,
did you ever hear of a woman using
her sense when she was in love? The
smarter they are, the greater fools it
makes them. The loveliest woman I
ever knew made herself an idiot over
an ugly little high-tempered wretch
and married him, too. Never be sur
prised at any thing a woman may do
when in love-"
The doctor lighted cigar and pulled
away in thoughtful silence. He finish
ed the cigar, and grandpa went in to
bed, and to sleep. and to snore; but the
promenaders did not return. He toss
ed the blazing stump away, with a NUT
tered something that was not exactly a
bened ,ctton, and marched off to bed
with very resolved air and a much
roughened forehead.
The next afternoon was SO tempting
that Lutte found it impossible to sit in
the house and work. 1t seemed a sin
to stay indoors while there was such
sunshine and such fresh green outside
So she put on her sun-bonnet. and with
Endymion " in one hand and her fish
ing tackle in the other set cut for the
pond, to spend the afternoon in way
after her own heart Farra's Pond"
as it was called, was the admiration and
envy of the whole county. It was in
deep hollow, shaded by beautiful trees,
and was SO large that strangers often
mistook it for lake, much to old Mr.
Farra's delight. 1t had been dug by
the present owners father when the
adjoining city was but a humble village
1t was a favorite resort of Lute's, partly
on account of the fine fish in which it
abounded, and partly because Of its
own lovely quietness. She soon arrived
at it, and, softly whistling to herself,
laid her book and lines in the little boat
and glanced around for signs of fishing
worms. Her experienced eye soon de-
cided on place, and she began indus
triously digging for them with an old
single
BAH" she said, as she deposited
half dozen squirming red fellows in
the rusty tin can kept there for the pur-
pose. What nasty things worms are!
wish one could fish without bait. It
takes away half my pleasure to have
to put them on the hook, There, that's
enough. Oh, mercy I've got my feet
damp in this horrid wet place; but no
matter. I'll stick 'em up on the seat in
front of me. and the sun will soon dry
them"
She went back to the skif', put her
bait in, and then got in herself, Embossed
it, and padded out beyond the shadows
of the trees into the warm sunshine.
She took in her paddle and laid it across
her lap, baited her hook, and dropped
it gently in the water, elevated her feet
on the seat in front Of her, and began
to enjoy herself greatly.
"What sweet thing sunshine Isl"
she said. meditatively watching the fly
ing cloud shadows and trembling tree
shadows. Lutte was great lover of ma
ture, but she kept it carefully hid She
Rad an idea that it looked sentimental
and weak to go into raptures over birds,
flowers, ETC., and she had great horror
of both those adjectives Il believe I
had bite Pshaw! no, didn't. Well,
I'll read a while. | like to read Keats
out-of-doors on a day like this" she
went on, slowly turning the leaves. " 1t
gives a fresher flavor to his lush green
leaves and dew-dabbled poppies.' I
believe I'll begin at the beginning The
first book of Endymion is the best,
anyhow.
She began to read, at first with her
attention divided between her bobbing
cork and her book, but the book soon
got the best Of it. The venturesome
fish nibbled away at her bait without
her noticing it; but finally big fellow
got the hook in his unfortunate mouth,
and gave the line such jerk as to
bring her back abruptly from the classic
shades Of Mount Latmos. It did not
bring her back without start, though,
and that start sent the paddle in her
lap spinning in the water, and came
very near sending her book after it, but
it fortunately fell in the bottom of the
boat instead. Lutte was too keen fish
erwoman to waste thought on such
trif1ing things as paddles and books at
such moment as this. Her whole
heart was on the end of her line. After
a dozen abortive efforts, in which she
came near capsizing her little skiff, she
brought the fish out of the water part
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