The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1879-04-26

And can but thy picture kiss
My fairy rose, my babelet sweet"
As Miss Isabella Spooner finished read
ing these verses, and proceeded to cut
them out of the paper they had graced
with pair of scissors that, in company
with bunch Of keys, hung from her
generous glrdle, a murmur of admiration
and sympathy arose from her audience.
This audience consisted of Mrs. Spooner,
lsabella's mother, a tall, thin, pale
woman with great deal of forehead
that is, in regard to beight-and very
white, well shaped hands, which looked
as though they had been molded out of
lard; Mrs. Dusenberry, a lady who
looked about five and-forty, but who,
according to her own calculations, grew
young so fast that her friends conf
IDENTIFY expected that in few years she
would be girl again, with lips so thin
that they came near being no lips at all,
bumpy brow, small, black, uneven eyes,
a nondescript nose, and figure remark
able for its unobtrusiveness; Capt. Hot
top, Miss Spooner's uncle, hale, hearty,
rather handsome man, who had spent
most of his life in sailing vessel; Mr..
Wellington OctOper, a young pork mer-
chant, called "Devil-fsh" by those of
lis companions who had been to the
Aquarium, @ because it came so deyilish
near being Octopus, you know" with
reddish hair, reddish complexion, and
10 forehead to speak of; Miss Eugenia
Ann Octoper, sister of the pork mer-
chant, pretty, pert young girl who
came down to breakfast in diamond ear
nd roll
5tyle;" and two or three elderly men
and three or four young men, who being
near nobodies, can, OF course, only expect
mere mention.
1t was lovely day in the last week of
July, and these people were gathered to-
gether on the broad veranda of the
Spooner homestead. (Mrs. Spooner took
a few summer boarders for company,
and, truth to tell, they could not have
been in a pleasanter place. The house,
sub stantially built of gray stone and
draped with beautiful wistarias that
climbed to the very roof, faced the Della
ware river, and the CLEAN of the water
through the branches of the catalapa
trees that stood Just outside the garden
were laden with snowy flowers among
which the bees were having q rare riot,
was pleasant sight to see.
Miss Isabella Spooner, the real mistress
of the homestead-her mother extreme
lassitude rendering her only the nomi-
nal One-was q comfortable, sentimental
old maid, with an obtrusive figure, Tin
which respect she formed a great con-
trast to her friend Mrs. Dusenberry, J
light, very light blue eyes, and snub
nose. She wore her hair crushed back
from her fOrehead-a forehead much
like her mamma sand falling in curly
crop on the back of her neck. In even
ing dress these curls were always tied
with bit of bright ribbon, which i'm
parted to them quite juvenile appear
:nce and charm.
Miss Isabella dotted on poetry, and
looked upon all rhymers as "heaven-
BORN Ia fact, she had an intense re-
spect for and admiration of all persons
connected with literature, and was wont
TO say, Gould I have been pen-gifted
| would hsve asked no other boon"
low very sweet" said Mrs. Dusen-
berry, in a soft, too soft voice, as Miss
Spooner, after reading the verses quoted
above, took her scissors in hand. "Thev
remind me of some lines introduced in
my first letter to Prof. GAM st the time
/ became so interested in the habits of
the birds of North America. He said
afterward, by-the-by, that the bright
ness of that letter absolutely dazzled
him." Mrs. Dusenberry prided herselfon
her latter-writing, and, anxious that her
talent should not be child under 2
hushel, wrote on the subject which she
thought would be most interesting TO
him, with hint as to the impression he
mad made on her susceptible heart, TO
every man with whom she came in con-
tact, as soon as possible after forming
his acquaintance.
And when do you expect her, Isa-
bella?" asked Miss Sponer, lifting her
hands of which she was very proud, from
her lap, to regard them more closely,
and then listlessly dropping them again.
This afternoon, toward evening"
answered Miss Spooner, taking q letter
from her pocket and referring to it.
She writes: l hope to arrive just as
the sun is beginning TO drown in your
beautiful river, and the evening star
peeps forth as bright-as bright, alas /!
as the eyes of my blue-eyed boy"
How very sweet" said Mrs. Dusen-
berry, 1t reminds me of note | re-
ceiyed the other day from DR.. Drake, in
answer to one | sent him begging him