The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1877-08-10
Wrecked in Port.
A TALE OF THE uYPERBoREAN VANILLA.

1t was the wild midnight.
The tame midnight was Off watch and
had gone TO bed three hours before
A storm brooded over the eastern
heavens. Ii was thoroughbred brood
storm. Hop brewed, for it was coming
from the yeast.
Hawkeyc creek was rolling tumulti-
ously in its sandy bed. Bugs, probably.
Or it might have been nervousness.
A little form covered at the garden
gate. Many manly form has been
covered at just such gates, ever since
summer nights and gnats and beauty
and love and June bugs were invented.
''IIe docs not come" she murmured
softly, as she peercd into the darkness.
81 cannot see him. will call him."
She was wrong. If sho couldn't sec
him she certainly couldn't call him with
the same hand. A manly step came
scraping down the sidewalk. 1t was
Desmond.
She threw open the gate and the next
instant he clasped in his great, strong
arms twenty-seven yards of foulard,
three yards of ruching, seven dozen
Breton buttons and a pompadour panier
as big as dog-housc. II was all his
own.
"Al' is lost" he exclaimed. Con
stance tie Belvidere. the Russians have
crossed the Balkans. We must n.y."
Constance was noble girl. She
only said, "Whither shall we fly?"
He wanted to fly to some lone desert
isle, but she submitted an amendment
providing that they should fly to the
ice-cream saloon.
They flew.
In the crowded saloon, where the soft
light fell upon fair women and brave
men, and the insects of q summer night
fell in the ice-cream freezer. They
spoke no word.
When two sentiment human beings
are engulphing spoonsfull of corn starch
and eggs and skim-milk, language is q
mockery.
At length Desmond broke the tender
silence. He said:
"More, dearest?''
She smiled, and bowed her lovely
head, but did not speak. She was too
full for utterance.
Desmond gloomily ordered more.
And more when that was gone. And n
supplement to that. And an addenda
to that. And an exhibit to that.
Gloom sat enthroned upon his brow.
Constance saw it. She said:
"What is it, dearest?"
He spoke not but sighed.
A dreadful suspicion stabbed her
heart like a knife.
Desmond" she said. ''yon are not
tired of me, darlingT'
"By heaven, no." he said, and then
looked (and thoughD unutterable
things.
\ Her brow lighted up with ray OF
celestial intelligence.
81 sce," she said, tapping the empty
plate with her spoon. "Too cold
\ Signed, C. Morbus."
He denied il bitterly, and badc hcI
remain where she was while he settled
: with the man.
She, guided by the unerring instinct
of her sex, pecped through the curtains
of the saloon. She saw her Desmond
holding earnest discussion with the man
She saw the man shake his head rcso
lutely in answer to Dcsmond's pleading
looks and appealing gestures. She saw
him lock the door, take out the key, pu
it in his pocket, and lean up against thu
door. She saw her own Desmond
upon the counter a pearl-handled pock
knife, six nickels, four green postage
stamps, watch-key, two lead-pencils. (
memorandum book, theatre ticket Co
the Variety denomination). pocke
f comb, an ivory toothpick, shirt stud
) one sleeve button, photograph of her
| self, a package of trix, two street cal
f checks, card with funny (wicked
story on it, n silk handkerchief and
[ pair of gloves. And then she knew
{ that Desmond was a bankrupt, ant
f when the man swept the assets of tn,
D concern into drawer and opened thu
4 door she sobbed.convulsively. "And i
! wasn't mine extravaganza which hatl
, ! did this thing"
They did not talk much on their way
home Once she asked him if he wa
{ rich, and he only said:
Enormously"
sr