The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1882-09-21

not seem to suit her at all.
eyes, Ketury Spikes" said mine host.
"Named arter an aunt as was expected to
leave her money, but didn't. Pretty
smart gal, though, Ketury. Don't need
no legacy to boost her along"
81 should think not" remarked Mr..
Moreau.
SCOT a history, Ketury has" went on
the landlord, whose name was Lemuel
Stiles.
"Indeedw
"Disapp'intedr said Mr.. Stiles. ''En-
gagged to be married. Young man give
leg-bail and enlisted, and went to Florida
to fight the Injuns. And Ketury she
made VOW"
"Never to marry ?" asked Moreau,
quickly.
mo, to marry the first identickle chap
as axed her." retorted Mr.. Stiles, with
grin. "Our gals up here in the Adiron-
dacks is plucky, they is. But somehow
Ketury never got the chance. You amt
marrying man, be We, stranger ?" with
sudden speculative CLEAN in his dull
eyes.
Moreau smiled.
II might be, " he said. eff you would
kindly give me letter of introduction to
Miss Spikes, / believe I will try my luck
with her. For, to speak the truth, / was
exceedingly pleased with what little I
saw of her this morning"
"Sartin 1 willr' said Mr.. Lemuel
Stiles. "And I'll tell you what, stranger,
there amt many gals like my neice, Ke-
tury."
As Mark Moreau sat before the big fire
of logs, which the chilliness of the Sep
TENDER evening rendered not uncomfort-
able, he smiled to himself with a Me-
phistophellan satisfaction.
"At all events" he thought, "this will
open the way to a pleasant little hirta-
ton. And if worst comes to worst, 1 can
but follow the example of the Florida
volunteer"
All that evening, Mr.. Lemuel Stiles,
who, according to, his own frank admis-
sion, was ''no scholard," wrestled with
sheet of paper, a musty ink-bottle, and
stump of pen, and at ten o'clock pro-
duced the following document, not with
out certain grave triumph:
"Neece Kitoorah, this is to interduce
mr.. mark marc, who Wants Wife and
you want a Husband, and there's pare
of you. From your affectionate Uncle
to command. I'll. STILES"
81 guess that there II do the business"
said Mr.. Stiles, with pardonable pride,
as he smeared out o blot from the loop
of the L with his-coat cuff.
Mark Moreau glanced over it rather
obviously.
eff she wasn't such q little beauty"
he thought, "ttis would seem rather
Quixotic enterprise. But those sapphire
blue eyes would light O man over the
very Tarpeian cliff"
And the next morning he proceeded
straight to the school house.
"Bub," he said to q red-haired boy,
who was shutting his feet outside the
door, sis Miss Spilee within?"
"Just come" said the boy. "School
amt in yet. Wants six minutes o nine
yet"
"Give her that slip of paper, please, "
said our hero, land tell her am waiting
outside"
Half minute later, there was a rush
like that of q buffalo, and tall, lean
female, with o scanty knot of fox-colored
hair screwed on the top of her head +,
watery blue eyes, high cheekbones, and
badly fitting false teeth, flung herself on
his shoulder, "a la" provincial theaters.
when seen you go by the tavern
yesterday, I felt you was my counter
part!" sighed this gentle gazelle, with o
strong scent Of fried onions in her
breath; "but little did dream as you
was 90 near me in soul. was a-settin'
on the back-door step ween you went
a-psst. had the facesche, and Fanny
Dorel she took charge Of the school for
me yesterday"
"Fahny Dorelr This, then, was the
name Of the gold-tressed divinity who
had taken his heart by storm. There
was q misrepresentation all around, and
Mark Moreau made haste to disengage
himself from Miss Keturah Spikes cling
ing arms.
"There is some mistake, said he, hur-
riedly.
mo, there amt" said Miss Spikes.
| II supposed this letter was addressed
to Fanny Dorel," he pleaded.
at says Ketursh Spikes plain enough,
don't it?" said the lady, with gathering
clouds upon her brow.
| my dear Miss Spikes" he began.
Gall me Keturah," she smiled.
"I see that am int-uding on the bust
est part Of your day" he urged.
''School teachin' amt nothin', when
the tenderest feelin's OF the heart is con-
cerned." murmured the tall woman.
But business is business" reasoned
our hero, artfully, "and shall see you
this evening at your uncle's house. Until
then, Eau revoirl"
| The school bell clanged-Mr. MQFeau
/ 4 kAsk