Connecticut western news., 1882-04-26

with dignity. "There are bodies, yes, and dispositions, that are clods," and Mrs. Phlox jerked on her calash and went home.
 The meeting-house was full, and the next day the Dixville Times declared the lecture to have been most soulful and eloquent dissertation, but Mrs. Appledore's attention wandered, and she only knew that the entertainment was about to be concluded by Dr. Olli- pods sonorous call for ''m oosic."
 ssI am delighted" said Professor St. Clair Smith, lowing low before her as soon as possible after the s'moosic." s'I never heard such 8 delicious voice. |"
 Mrs. Appledore coughed behind her hand to conceal her fattered embarrass- ment, and turned a questioning look on Professor Jackson Jones, who stood near.
 "You always sing splendid," ssid that gentleman, drawing himself up. "I dare say put you out. That flute ob- ligato is deuced hard thing to do. didn't do myself justice tonight.
 ''You'se always dragged" said Karl Leopold, who took every opportunity to criticise the Harm onicum doings.
 Professor Jackson Jones pulled at his cravat, and Mrs. Appledore's face was full of resentment.
 "I never heard anything finer in Boston" said Professor St. Clair Smith, coming to the rescue, ''and l suppose you know what that implies"
 The night after the lecture was very stormy one, and Mrs. Appledore was slowly twisting her hair in crimping- pins, when the door-bell rang.
 s'I could not endure the loneliness of the hotel, dear Mrs. Appledore," said Professor St. Clair Smith, making a courtly bow, "and have come to beg for just one song."
 The Professor was, so far as outline and coloring go, handsome man. His head was what is commonly called dome shaped. His wavy hair and silky beard were bright velvet red, and his rather large eyes were blue. He sat down in big rocking chair, and taking 8 twin on each knee, "I renew my youth in children" he cried, giving them squeeze. "Do you know the song, sThe old times were the best times when you and were young
 "Oh, yes," said the widow, nervously turning over her music, "but I can't say that I feel 50 very old"
 "Dear me-" what blunderer am, D cried the Professor. "I was thinking of my boyhood. I've always hated being grown up. A man has so much to letter his imagination. You must have lost your husband in the first flush of your youth"
 CT did," murmured the widow, for getting that she was 35 when the event occurred. "The twins were babes."
 Song succeeded song till the Professor proposed duets, and Mrs. Ap- pledore enjoyed the music so much that it was midnight before she knew it.
 Two months passed away. The Pro. lessor came almost every evening. He had hired small house little out o1 town that he might be undisturbed he explained, and a relative had come tc keep house for him. He did not know how long he should remain in Dixville. He was preparing book for publica' tion and writing several new lectures. When his literary labors were over he was going to take trip somewhere and rest, though friends of his, influential at Washington, were anxious to have him accept a consulship at an import ant point.
 The widows neat white cottage stood by itself on the confines of the village Beacon Bliss's fields of dark green pep perm int and nodding wheat stretching along the country road for nearly mile joined the garden. Before her abrup refusal of him, the Deacon had been ac customed to drop in for little visit ol to bring 8 nei ghborly offering of apples or fresh vegetables. But these calls hai ceased, and cut of from all her sources of news and pleasure, Mrs. Appledor' stayed closer at home practiced he: music and entertained the Professor.
 But one sunshiny afternoon Mrs Phlox came bustling up the pr1m gray eled walk.
 "Rosetta Appledore," she chirpe' like an angry blue-jay as she opened tn door, though clod, which there ar folks that think different, I've come t ask you if you know you're the tow talk ?"
 "The town talk ?" echoed her aston ished sister.
 "Yes the town talk," repeated Mrs Phlox, with wonderful emphasis
 Anybody would be who has spent tw blessed months philanderin' with
 married man."
 "Who is married p'' !
 "Your Professor Smith,"
 "I don't believe it."
 "I s'posed you wouldn't, but I've see his wife," said Mrs. Phlox with eviden satisfaction. ssMiss Merrills, she 'twa Pearly Ann Truesdale, wouldn't miss findin' out anything if she had to wal ten miles, an she called on her, an tol me. That night sez to John, John sez I, "a sisters sister, specially she's younger an widder, an if I be clod I'm goin' to the bottom of this an, sez he, Emma Jane, think you better, an the first thing he did tn next mornin' was to hitch up an tak me over on the mile-strip where ths fellow lives, in Tony Allerton's cottage