The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1882-08-03
Girls.

nun uOWM 10. 4 aTlan' S, ana get
some more Of that lace ruiiing,
When Valerie Richards tackled her
'please" on last, she always meant to
have her own way. So Chris took
down her linen ulster, and donned her
pretty shade hat, with something of a
sigh.
With the mercury up tO-well, Jack
said twas up farther than he could
count-the prospect Of a two miles
walk over a hot, dusty country road
doesn't seem particularly inviting.
y You must hurry, Chris" as she
passed the sewing-rooni, " for, when
Guy gets back with Keith Falconer /
shall want you to help me dress"
So obliging little Chris hurried. Half
way to the village she espied a pheton
which she instinctively knew contained
her cousin Guy and his chum, Keith
FalcOner.
For the good opinion of this latter
gentleman, whom she had met a
few times before, she had already con-
ceived quite a respect. And as
our little Chris had the good sense
TO realize that the aforesaid good opin-
ion of most gentlemen isn't usually
heightened by the appearance of dusty,
red-faced heroines, she tilted her hat
down over her face ut the lowest angle,
and, lowering her sun-umbrella peril
ously near her nose, tried to skulk by
without being recognized.
OF near-sighted, absent-minded Cous-
in Guy she had no fear, bat with Mr.
Falconer il might be different. Any
way she got by, and hurried along to
Farlan's, the great commercial empori-
UNI of the little village.
(fnrf,fUor
blood boiling, and eyes before which
little black specks seemed continually
dancing, Chris conceived the brilliant
idea of slipping in the back door, and
up stairs, thus avoiding observation.
Which idea she Immediately put into
execution.
Now it so happened that Keith Fall
coner, catching sight of the little dusty
figure slowly entering the side gate, be-
came suddenly convinced of the neces-
sity of solving in his own mind its
identity with that of a certain other
little dusty figure which had crossed his
line of vision something more than an
hour since
Making his excuses to the ladies, he
stepped lazily out through the long
French window to the piazza. Once
out of sight he quickeued his pace till
he reached the back door, which stood
invitingly open. A grapevine grew con-
veniently near, and, inwardly blessing
the hand that planted it, Mr.. Falconer
ensconced himself comfortably in its
shade.
Chris, coming slowly up through the
strawberries, had not seen this little
strategetic by-play. But raising her
eyes she became attracted by much
more vigorous and expressive panto-
mime--Valerie at one of the open win
dows waving her hand furiousiy, beck
Oning her to hurry.
Obeyin9 this mandate, Chris started
to run; projecting root caught the toe
of her boot, and she fell heavily to the
earth.
In an instant Keith Falconer was by
her side; in another, had raised her
slight form, and, supporting her with
his strong arm, inquired anxiously if
she was hurt
"No-that is Oh. 1 don't known
was her frightened and bewildered re-
ply, =. IL. VI.
Then, of sudden. she burst INTO
tears, and darted into the house.
Perhaps if Miss Valerie Richards had
been aware that The sewing-room win
dow was directly above the afore- men
tened grapevine, behind which Mr..
Falconer had again seated himself, with
n somewhat disturbed countenance, the
greeting she gave Chris might have
been tri1e less shrill; her keynote
pitched a tride lower.
AS it was, the young mans rehec-
tons, pleasant or otherwise, were some
what abruptly checked by:
Where under the sun have you been
all this time? Here Watkins has been
waiting a whole half-hour for that lace,
and we began to think you were waiting
for Farlan to send to New York for it!
Hurry now and help her get it on, for
you'll have to do my hair in an hour.
Do for goodness sake get rid of those
red eyes, for you've got to play this
evening, if"
Then Mr.. Falconer, with a curious lit
tie smile on his face, left his retreat, and
rcuaced his steps to the piazza.
Chris. coming out of the sewing-room,
met Jack in the upper hall. Jack, be it
known, was the only real, " true-blue
friend that Chris had in the whole Rich
ards family. Uncle Richards was too
much immersed in business; Aunt Rich
ards too much engrOSsed in getting n
rich husband for her daughter; and
the aforesaid daughter-Vale e-too
much taken up with the same idea.
Absent-minded, hOok-loving Cousin
Guy knew there was Chris, Tor he
had occasionally noticed that industri-
Gus young person busting his books, and
he had n vague idea that she always put
his dressing-gOwn and slippers in the
right place If questioned about her.
however, doubt if he could have told
whether she were eight or eighteen.
So in all 1.-the wide, wide world
'Chris reckoned only Jack as her one
friend and admirer.
"What is it, Chris? Has Val been
nagging again?' as he noticed her rcd
eyes, flushed cheeks and weary step.
"Oh, no, jack" hastily, lit isn't
anything"
"Weil, but it's something! You
wouldn't look all tagged out for moth
ing" he persisted.
II only got a little tired walking,
she answered, evasively.
Needn't tell me thatr' and he
snapped his fingers derisively- "Or, if
you did, Val had a finger in the pie
some how I'd like to see q pie she
didn't have a finger in he mutters.
Come, Chrissie, tell a fellow all about
il" he added, suddenly changing his
tone.
And Christie does tell fellow all
about IT,
Sympathetic Jack listens, part of the
time giving an imaginary Valerie
piece Of his mind, and then, in imagina-