American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1880-01-17

bonneted and shawled, to the breakfast
table.
1t is broiling day early in August.
The mercury already, at a. M, standa
at S0o. What it VIII IN, 1t noon we can
only anticipate with sinkings of the
heart. Under the circumstances, Aunt
Cons announcement moves us to live
liest expostulations, but all in vai.,. 10
New York she must .hd to New York
she viii &c, hot or cold, wet or dry.
"But why?" we ask; and Aunt Con
enlightens us.
"Don't you know" she says, "thai
tomorrow the railway company raises
its faree To-day return ticket cost:
S1.30; tomorrow and after, they will
cost s1.a5-a clear gain of five cents,
Sc!. See"
"IIardly worth burning your brai"s
out for" says Lou. "prt Why must
you go ct nj. What do you need that
You can not get hcre?"
"Of course you can get them AL
here,'' says Aunt Con, L" but you have
to pay twice a. much for them. | need
a hundred things-pins, hair-pirs, tape;
buttons, papcr-I could not tell you
half
"Send an order for them, if you must
get them from New York, SAYS Lou.
"And pay thirty cents for the ex-
ssp" says Aunt Con. "Much | should
~, h,- chat o., la S,,t,, -
"At least you will spare yourself all
you can," says Lou, giving up the con-
test as hopeless. "Don't tire yourself
out and come home sick as you general
ly do"
Aunt Con had no time to reply, for
she must start at once for the station
She walks, of course; Aunt Con always
walks, looking on hacks as an invention
of the enemy to lure the unwary into
desperate extravaganza. When she is
fairly off, Lou and | settle ourselves to
such light and frivolous occupations as
befit such a day.
Toward three o'clock the storm-clouds
roll up over the sky, a whirling wind
darkens the air with dust, and Il low
muttcr OF distant thunder growls from
the darkening west. Unfastened shut
tiers and open doors bang suddenly with
a force which shakes the house from top
to bottom, and acts on Our nerves, al
ready tense from the electrical influences
which are abroad, like signals of menace
and deadly peril. We fly to close win
dows and make all fast, and, as we fin
ish our task, Lou says;
"Poor Aunt Con, This storm has
struck the city before it reached us.
She must be thoroughly drenched."
We discuss Aunt Cons probable fate
in the pauses of the tempest, which has
swept down upon us in full force, draw
ing upon our fancy for pictures, alter
nately fearful and ludicrous, between
the roar of the thunder and the vivid
flashes of the lightning. Now that the
storm has fairly come, the vague horror
which had weighed us down before it
began has vanished, and we can laugh
and chat gayly amidst the tumult of the
elements.
The O'Clock train comes in, but We
watch in vain for Aunt Cons
figure toiling up the street from the
station. The ) O'Clock train, too, fails
to bring her, and we begin to grow a
little uneasy.
.sIf she does not come by the 6
O'Clock train l shall telegraph" says
Lou.
A telegram representing to Louis
mind the deepest depth of horror, it is
naturally the first thing to which her
thoughts turn vaguely in emergencies;
but my simple question, ''To whom?"
seals her lips, and turns her eyes again
to the window, and her thoughts to
Aunt Con.
At 10 minutes past 6 O'Clock precise
ly we see drenched, disheveled figure
toiling slowly up the street, and fly to
the door to meet and greet Aunt Con.
The storm is over by this time; its
skirts are rolling away in tender tangled
fleeces of silvery white from the pure
blue of the sky. The foliage glitters in
its diamond -gemmed freshness, the
birds twitter their delight that
5. the rain is over and gone
Across the eastern sky rain
bow has flung its brilliant arch,
softly reflected in fainter, fairer tints on
the pale clouds above. In the midst of
the radiance and the glory stands Aunt
Con, limp, draggled, detected. Inky
drops follow each other in sad process
sion from the brim of her weather-beat-
en- bonnet. Streams of moisture flow
from every fold of her garments, which
cling to her figure like wet bathing
clothes. Every step she takes sounds
as if she were treading in pool of slush,
and from her parasol dark stream diff
fuses itself slowly over the spotless floor
Of our little piazza. Lou catches the
parasol and carries it off to safer re-
gions, while 1 stay to question and con-
lole with Aunt Con.
"Why didn't you take a hack,
1 cry, forgetful for the moment
Of her principles.
81 would-yes, think would, ;" says
Aunt Con, "only, you see, 1 was as wet
Is 1 could be, anyhow; and them had
10 money"
"Spendthrift aunty!" l cry, in de-
light. "Why, Aunt Con, have hopes
If you yet, if you can spend all your for
une in one day in this reckless manner.
What have you bought A white ele-
)hant, "a
uI wish I had. - interrupts Aunt Con.