Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1879-01-25
Mamie.


just when or how it came to be under
stood between my partner, John Still
man, and myself that was to marry
his daughter, Mamie, when she was
old enough. have vague impression
that she was in long clothes at the time
we first talked of it.
Her mother died when she was lit
tie girl, and old Mrs. Stillman took her
home to the family house at Owls Cor
ner, one of the prettiest little villages I
ever had the good fortune to see. But
Mamie was Is when I first met her as
woman, and this was the scene of our
meeting.
John had sent for me to come to
Owls Corner on certain July day,
promising to drive over to the station
and meet me, as my elderly legs COW
cred the ground but slowly. We had
retired from business, rich men both,
some five years before, and correspond
ed regularly. But had been abroad,
and this was my first visit to Owls Cor
ner in ten years. I remembered Mamie
as romping child, fond of swinging
on the gates, climbing up grape-arbors,
and imperiling her neck fifty times q
day, John always saying on each occa-
sion:
"She's a little wild, but she'll get
over that"
waited at the station for half an
hour; then, seeing no sign of John,
started to walk home. It was midday
and fearfully hot, and when had ac-
complished half the distance T turned
off the road and started through grove
that gave me longer walk but thick
shade. l was resting there on broad
stone, completely hidden by the bushes
on every side, when I heard Johns
voice:
"Where have you been?"
There was such dismay and astonish-
ment in the voice that looked up in
surprise, to find that he was not greet
ing me, but tall, slender girl coming
toward him. Such sight! She was
dark and beautiful, dressed in q thin
dress of rose-pink, faultless about the
face and throat, but from the waist
down, clinging to her, one mass of the
greenest, blacklist, thickest mud and
water.
I'm the duck pond" she answered,
with voice as clear and musical as q
chime of bells. Don't come near
me-"
''You are enough to wear a man into
his gravel"
"There, don't scold," was the coax
ing reply; "little Bob Ryan fell in face
down. 1t did not make any material
difference in his costume, but was
afraid he would smother, so I waded in
after him. The water is not over two
feet deep, but the mud goes clear
through to China, 1 imagine. It is
rather pity about my new dress, isn't
it?"
"a pityr reared John; you'll come
to an untimely end some day with your
freaks. AS if there was nobody to pick
q little brat out of the duck pond but
your
''There actually was no one else
about. There, now, don't be angry.
I'll go up to the house and put on that
bewitching white affair that came from
New York last week, and be all ready
to drive over to the station with you, at
what timer"
about 3. Lawrence is coming on
the 2:10 train"
And had come on the 70 10. This
accounted for the failure to meet me.
1 kept snug in my retreat until John
and Mamie were well on their wav
homeward, wondering a little how
many young ladies in my circle of
friends would have so recklessly sacri.
feed new dress to pick up beggar's
brat out of the mud.
When /. in my turn, reached the
house, John was on the porch. waiting
for Nannie's resppearance. He gave
me a most cordial welcome, or rather
o luncheon, called Mamie. his mother.
and a man TO go for my trunk, all in
one breath, and seemed really rejoiced
to see me.
Presently a slender girl, with truly
bewitching white dress, trimmed
with dashes Of scarlet ribbon. and
smoothly braided black hair, tied with
scarlet bows, came demurely into the
room and was introduced. Never. how.
ever, in that first hour. could the Wild
est imagination have pictured Mamie
Stillman wading into a duck pond.
Bat the half-shy, hslf-dignifed com
paDy manner soon wore away, and