Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1881-06-02
NICK Won DAM.

Madison avenue and Fifth avenue
are paralel-thc houses on one side
abutting with their back-yards upon
the other; for even palatial mansions,
with brown stone fronts, have their
back yards where aristOcratic children
are permitted to play.
Some twenty or more years ago the
scene of this true story opens, in the
back yards of two homes thus situated.
One morning fine, manly boy was on
one side; and beautiful little curly
headed darling-say six years Old-on
the other side of the high, close, board
fence. The fence had a knot-hole in
it. The boy was tying tin can to the
tail of a struggling Maltese cat, that
lad clambered over the dividing fence,
and the girl with flushed face and
swapping, angry eyes, was looking
through the knot.hOlc. 1t was her
cat.
AS soon as our little lady had fairly
taken in the situation, she called
through the fence, with her pouting
lips TO the hole; 81 say, you boy, have
you seen my kitty?'
"YOu are nasty, bad boy, and tell
stories, you have got my kitty; and if
you don't give her back to me, I'll
build Il fire and burn your playhouse
down."
This was not an idle threat, for our
yOumgstcr on the Fifth avenue side had
u playhouse, supplied with toys and
curious playthings, provided by his
rich father and indulgcnt mother as an
induccment for their only aud pctted
child not TO mingle with the vulgar
playmatcs Of the streets.
81 say, who are you?' asked the boy.
"Neycr you mind-giye eme my kitty
Il will you kiss me-"
kiss you through the fcncc!' and
she laughed silvery, ripping laugh.
"Ycs, through the knot-h0lc."
"Wcll, give me my kitty first"
"No, give me the kiss first"
"Will you give me my kitty, thcn?'
"lcs, truly"
"Wcll, put your mouth to the hole.
And to the hole he placed his face,
and received the smack of a sounding
kiss.
"Thcrc, now give me the kitty"
lie did 50. The little thing, scram-
bling over the fence, was soon safe in
the arms of its mistress. She kissed
it again and again, while the boy looked
on.
81 say, it's nasty TO kiss a cat"
"a cat is not so nasty as Il great
nasty boy"
"Ycs it is; and | played II joke on
you, for you kissed me on my nose" "
"Only didn't; for | didn't kiss you
at all. Ispit on my fingers and rubbed
them on your nose, and then smacked
my lips-didn't l, kitty?" And she
laughed with u loud and merry laugh
1;
The children, whose silly episode We
described in our last chapter grew up
as children usually do. Miss Lillian
was sent to school, passing her bread
and butter days at Vassar, growing VI
TO become saucy beauty of spoiled
nineteen. Our hero OF the cat had
graduated and studied his profession
and Travelled in Europe, and was SOW,
ing his fathers money as young mer
who have no knowledge of the trouble
of money-getting are apt to do. From
time TO timc-she from school and hi
from college, she from her and he from
his European tour-had visited theil
respective homes in their respective
avenues; but had never met. Nor die
the now widowed mother of the fail
Lillian know even the names of thu
family of Won Damenbergs, whose only
son, Nicholas, had had his nose spit up
on through the division fence. Years
went flying by. To young people years
fly, but are long; to old people year'
drag, but are short. These young
folks were killing time. Lillian wa.
drifting about the world with her gen
tie, quiet mother, who found it an eas
ier life TO be dragged about by her i'm
perious daughter than to remain a
home with her.
Nick was abroad on his own hook
sometimes yachting among the llord
of Norway, and sometimes shooting OIL
the plains of upper Montana.
At last both parties met-at the Cal
ifornia Geysers. Nicholas Won Damen
berg, with two companions in shooting
jackets, had arrived from 5000
around Clear Lake" They had arrived
guns in hand, in advance of their lug
gage, and as yet had not registered
Mrs. Margaret Mercer and her daugh
ter, Miss Lillian Mercer, were estab
lished guests.
The Geysers are famous for aids t,
complexion. If the MERGERS had visit
ed for any such purposes as improving
theirs it must have been for the browi
and quiet mother, and not for th,
blooming maid. AS for Nick and hi
comrades, they were black and tame,
and burned and brown beyond the i'm
mediate relief of any of natures cos
metics.
The hero and heroine of this littl
love story, met upon the plazza-she
sweeping along in peculiarly queenl,
and regal majesty of nineteen-year
old girl, with good clothes, a beautiful
figure, pretty face, plenty of money
and conscious Of good birth, good edu
cation, good manners, and an assure,
position in the best of society. Nick