Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1878-11-28

lis.
$50 kind of you to come" he said
And presently" Either must be stupi<
at understanding directions, or every
body does not know everybody in you
settlement. Such wild-goose chase a
l had this afternoon!"
What!" cried my friend with we'll
assumed surprise. "You didn't fine
them" And his voice so clearly com
mented, You must be foolish fellow =
that the young mans color rose.
/ must have another try" he said.
"But was not this strange? l showed
police force. He directed me to the roac
leading out of the settlement, and
walked on for about an hour, expecting,
of course, to reach some house. All al
once found myself at the cemetery"
My friend laughed. "That man was
q wag; not a doubt of it. However
wait a few days till you know the place
better"
As you may have guessed, more than
half the cards, dropped by our orders at
the young mans door, bore the names Of
men either dead or departed. But s
long time passed before he found this
out; he mi ght have never found it on,
at all, but for-however, I must not an.
tici pate.
To give in detail the practical jokes
we played on our newcomer would be
impossible. One l must tell you, for it
very nearly had tragic ending.
Two or three of us had started with
him on shooting trip up the river. 1t
had pleased one of us, his first friend, to
feign deep melancholy, from which
our newcomer sought in vain to rouse
him. The young fellow spoke to me in
private on the subject. "Our friend,'
he said fought to be watched. Men in
his state Of mind have been known to do
strange things" I, of course, encouraged
his fear. We were neither of us then
much surprised when, one evening, the
melancholy man, after hastily wringing
our hands and murmuring that lit
could be borne no longer" leaped into
the river. What followed helped me
afterward to understand the sequel of
this story. Without a moments hesita-
ton that brave young fellow threw of
his coat and boots and dived after his
friend. He was not a strong swimmer,
however, and that little trick was near
being our last. When we fshed him ND
he was half drowned.
He rose in our estimation from that
moment, though it was not in the nature
of things that we could give up our di.
version, and We were still plotting
against his peace when hazard called me
away from our settlement to a little
place at some distance. Invent willing
ly, for the house at which I was to be
entertained was presided over by young
lady whom it always gave me great
pleasure to meet. She was the daughter
of the merchant I went to seer bright,
clever and intelligent girl, and to my
taste peculiarly handsome. It had
struck me, moreover-no harm in con.
Tossing it now; there is an age, you
know, when we read volumes in smile
it had struck me then that the beauti-
full Eleanor Hartley had a special kind
ness for me.
But on this occasion it seemed to me
that something was wrong with Miss
Eleanor. She sustained her part in the
conversation only with effort. She was
languid and depressed.
"This detestable climate is telling on
her," was my conclusion, and outdid
myself in my efforts to be amusing.
At such times, as We know-if, that is
to. say, we are not born takers, like our
friends..of the Emerald isle-there comes
the moment when everything is used up.
Neither joke, nor pun, nor lively anec-
dOte will visit the distressed brain.
Nothing remains but to choose between
naked commonplace and doleful silence.
To me, one evening at dinner, such a
moment came. Up to that time (for
our host was silent many had done all
the talking, and Miss Eleanor's eyes had
often mutely thanked me. I could help
her now no longer. In the silence that
followed on this dreary conception she
raised her gentle voice. What a plain
tive lcok there was in her face! How
hard she was trying to be animated; and
how felt for her! Happy thought!
Had l been alone l should have cut a
caper. It struck me all at once that I
had not yet told them about our new
conner and the tricks which we had
played upon him. This, if only properly
would afford food for laug hter
and amusement for days.
"Ohl by-the-by," 1 began, II have
not told yet about the new fellow who
arrived at our place the other day."
Certainly Miss Eleanor's eyes were
fixed on me with an interest such as she
had not hitherto accorded to any of my
stories, and, thus encouraged, proceed
ed boldly, telling them, only with more
gusto, what I have just told you, about
the letters and advertisements, the dead
mems cards and the false suicide. Twas
so much taken up with my own clever
ness, that 1 did not notice the way in
which my story was being received by
my hostess. Judge, then, my astonish-
ment and dismay when, as I ended with
an inane little chuckle, she suddenly
burst out:
And you call yourselves men! Do
you know what call you?''
my dear Nellie!" said her father.
I was speechless. She fixed her eyes
on my face, and the position, I assure
you, was singularly uncomfortable one.
I" call you cowards," she went on,
"and-and-" evidently she was at q
loss for an expressive word.
"Miss Hartley" said, deeply peni-
tent, eff"
"Pray say no MORE" she answered
coldly: "Papa, I will leave you to your
coffee"
I did not zee her again during my stay,
which: a. you may guess, was not pro.
longed beyond the time absolutely ne.
ceesary. This abrupt and mysterious
interruption of an acquaintanceship
that had promised to prove interesting
cut me up more than I can we'll express.
l returned to my own quarters, where,
az presently found, events Of an az.
citing character were under discuaeion:
Miss Hartley, / was told, had come ia
pay visit to her married sister, who
lived in eursettlement. AsWe were NOT
cheered BY the presence of any unmar.
ried ladies', thisWas, of course, an occur
renee of the first magnitude. But
further, I large dinner was to be given
at our club, to which, Ill the ladies and