The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1880-05-14
CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE.
BY CARLOTTA MORTON.

BY CARLoTTA MORTON.
from he Portland Evening Telegram.l
ga thing of beauty is a Joy forever" !"
murmured Mr.. Thomas, as he paused in
the hall, with his overcoat just halfway
off, and gazed, with unauthorized adj
miration, at the blonde beauty of his
wife's new maid, as she tripped airily up
the long stairway, in the daintiest pair
of slippers that Mr.. Thomas apprecia-
tive eyes had ever beheld.
J Beautiful as dream, and wears
number two. Well, for once I will have
to give Mrs. T. credit for good taste.
Couldn't have made a better selection
than that myself. Got some style about
ner, too"
''Yes, Mr.. Thomas, she's got trife
too much style about her, to suit me;
and if you're sure you've got the exact
dimensions of her slipper heels, now,
perhaps you may manage to remember
that supper is ready"
Poor Mr.. Thomas. AS these words
crashed into the middle of his medita-
tion, he started, like one awakening from
O dream, and as he turned and met Mrs
T-'s steely grey eyes looking clear
through him, he swayed and dropped
like weeping willow, and it was simply
astonishing how quickly his other arm
got out of that overcoat, and how soon
he was seated at the head of the table,
insisting that ''dear Henrietta" should
pass her plate for the tenderest and
juiciest piece of sirloin the platter
afforded.
Nature had doubtless intended to be
kind to Mr.. Thomas, when she endowed
him with an idolatrous love of the beau
tiful; but, alas! it proved a mistaken
kindness, for it happened SO often that
when he ventured to indulge his inno-
cent taste in that line, he was forced, by
way of penance, to "stand fire" beneath
the battery of those keen grey eyes.
It always remained an unexplained
mystery to him, how it came that his
Henrietta couldn't see things with his
eyes, but the strange, stubborn fact still
remained, that she couldn't. Try as he
would, he had never succeeded in edu-
eating her taste up to his lofty standard; /;
and now, when she had, at last. by some
unaccountable accident, stumbled upon
an article that ''just filed his eye" why
she talked about ''too much style," etc.,
and looked holes through him, just be-
cause he fingered moment at the foot
of his own stairway.
"Heigh-ho," sighed poor, disconsolate
Thomas, when, at last, his supper was
finished, and he had managed to get his
evening paper between his face and the
scornful darts of Henriettas searching
orbs.
''Mr. Thomas, shall you be at leisure
this EVENING""
Mr.. Thomas started from the depths of
his paper, and replied:
"No, dearest, / have some work at the
office that will keep me busy two or three
hours
'sI am very sorry to hear it, I wish to
attend Mrs. Storms party tonight, and
now I suppose I shall have to go with
Fred and Cora"
and enjoy yourself as much as as ever
you can," responded the dear, unselfish
fellow, with SO much alacrlty that the
steel grey eyes were suddenly brought to
bear again, whereupon Mr.. Thomas
once more lost himself in the locals of
the TELEGRAM.
How some adverse fate so planned it,
that when he arrived at his office that
night, he discovered that he had con-
siderably over-estimated the amount of
work he had to do, that, in fact, he could
finish it all up inside of an hour and
half, and, like the good-natured fellow
that he was, he Immediately resolved to
get through as soon as possible, and
treat his wife to a pleasant surprise. He
would go home, don his evening suit,
and wend his way to Mrs. Storms in
time to dance once with Henrietta, and
escort her home, which little attention,
he hoped, would put her in good
humor that ought to last a week, at the
least calculation.
Accordingly, at a comparatively early
hour, he arrived at home, mounted the
stairs and entered his sleeping apart
ment. There he proceeded, without
loss of time, to get ON the outside of his
business suit, and dropping the discarded
garments, man fashion, on the carpet, he
opened the door of spacious wardrobe
and stepped inside to find his party
array.
The light from the bedroom lamps
failed to penetrate the gloomy depths of
the wardrobe, and it was not until he
had felt of every separate garment on the
hooks and clawed pound of plaster off
the wall that he suddenly remembered
that his wife had taken his dress suit
down stars that morning to have it
cleaned.
And now arose the vexatious query,
Should he put on his every y-day clothes
agaip, just to go down and get his broad
cloth? or might he venture to sneak