The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1878-10-10
TWO MINUTES TOO LATE.

= NV oAo' az SCAOois IL tutIc was prize
to be won, we always went it neck and
neck until the very last, when he man
aged to just get one step ahead of me.
Notwithstanding our constant con-
tests, we were the very best of friends.
Bob was good-hearted, whole souled
fellow, and never crowed over a victory.
When we grew to be men, we were
still rivals in every thing. If l pur-
chased a fast horse, Bob was sure to
get one just half-second better. If
bought fowling piece, he would get
one little more costly and accurate.
We were both considered leaders in
all sports, but Bob seemed always to be
short distance ahead.
When Clara Floyd came to the viii
lage to spend the summer, nearly every
body went frantic over her. I must
confess it even now, she was remarka-
bly, beautiful. Her brown hazel eyes, in
whose liquid depths seemed to
be stored away the loves of
the gods, were full of melting tender
ness. That oval face and slightly dim
Piled cheek exceeded the velvety peach
in softness and delicacy. The bust, over
which an artist might 90 crazy, or
sculptor frantic, with her whole form.
height, and complexion, were faultless,
to say the least. Her hair was a dark
auburn, and hung in luxuriant curls
around shoulders of snowy whiteness.
Clara was not of the class of popular
beauties, but she was beauty every
body declared.
l had scarcely been introduced to her
and became interested, when found
that my friend Bob Vane was beginning
to pay his regards to her also.
Bob and were in for it now, knew
for he was in earnest, and so was |.
The months of June and July and
nearly half of August passed BY, and
we were both getting along well. For
once in my life felt sure that I was
ahead of Bob. Miss Clara was evident
ly coquetting with one of the other of
us, and | could not tell which, vet felt
almost sure it was not me.
One OF us had her company engaged
all the time. We almost killed our fast
horses taking Miss Clara out riding.
And whenever she expressed desire
for row on the lake, we were her oars
men. Our hands were constantly bis
tered, yet in secret we kissed those bis
tiers, and wished they might always re-
main to, torment us.
l had very near brought matters to a
crisis, as far as I was concerned. and
only waited a favorable occasion to pro-
pose.
fortune seemed to favor me. There
was to be a grand picnic on Swan
Island. The opportunity would be
good one, and l determined it should
not be lost.
A steamer, the Spread Eagle, was 10
take us from the village to the island.
On the day before the excursion was to
take place, my uncle, a wealthy old
bachelor who lived ten miles out in the
country, sent for me. Although yexed.
l could not refuse, or | should incur
Uncle Tobin's displeasure. So, send
ing note to Miss Clara, explaining nv
not calling on her that evening. and
that | hoped to have the pleasure of be-
ing her escort the next day, harnessed
my horse to the buggy and drove away.
MY business with Uncle Tobin being |
somewhat of legal nature, and being |
tedious, I. was compelled to rema;5
over night with him. The next morn.
ing it seemed that uncle never would +
get done talking, and his hired man
was an age in Harvesting my horse.
At last l got started, but when within
Inree mules OF the village, a tire came
OH. l looked at my watch, it was half
past 9; the boat would leave at 9. and
nere was three miles away with a
broken vehicle. I embarrassed NV
1orse, mounted him, rode until I was
almost IN sight, and dismounting, led
nm into the village. The steamer. to
ny chagrin, was half mile up the riy-
r, steamlng away for Swan Island.
You are just two minutes too late. >,