The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1882-05-12

the lecture to have been a most soulful
and eloquent dissertation but Mrs. APP
pledore's attention wandered, and she
only knew that the entertainment was
to be concluded by DIR. Ollapod's sonor-
GUS call for "moosic."
am delighted" said Prof. st. Clair
Smith, bowling low before her, as soon as
possible after the moosic." ct never
heard such a delicious voice."
Mrs. Appledore coughed behind her
hand to conceal her fiattered ernbarrass-
ment, and turned questioning look on
Prof Jackson Jones, who stood near.
"You always sing splendid" said that
gentleman, drawing himself up. 81
dare say put you out. That flute OBJ
ligato is a deuced hard thing to do. I
didn't do myself justice tonight"
you've always dragged" said Karl
Leopold, who took every opportunity to
criticise the Harmonicum doings.
Prof. Jackson Jones pulled at his era
vat, and Mrs. Appledore's face was full
of resentment.
81 never heard anything finer in Bos-
ton" said Prof. 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. "I
could not endure the loneliness of the
hotel dear Mrs. Appledore." said Prof.
ments, and the committee at last invited
certain Prof. st. Clair Smith. about
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, a handsome man. His
head was what is commonly called
dome-shaped. His wavy hair and silky
beard were bright yellow red, and his
rather-large eyes were blue. He sat
down in the big rocking-chair, and, TAX
ing twin on each knee, 81 renew my
youth in children" he cried, giving
them a squeeze. "Do you know the
song, The old times were the best
times when you and L were young?"
"Oh, yes" said the widow, Dervously
turning over her music, " but can't say
that feel so very old"
"Dear me, what blunderer 1 am,
cried the professor. g was thinking
of my boyhood. I've always hated be-
ing grown up. A man has so much to
fetter his imagination. You must have
lost your husband in the flush of your
youth ?"
81 did," replied the widow, forgetting
that she was 35 when the event oc-
Cured.
"The twins were babes"
Song succeeded song, till the professor
proposed duets, and Mrs. Appledore en-.
joyed 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 o.
town, that he might be undisturbed, he
explained, and relative had come to
keep house for him. He did not know
how long he would remain in Dixvllle.
He was preparing book for publica
ton, and writing several lectures.
When his literary labors were over he
was going to take trip somewhere &c
rest, though friends of his, Influential in
Washington, were anxious for him to &C.
cept Consulship at an important point
The widows neat white cottage stood
by itself on the confines of tho village.
Deacon Bliss fields of dark green pep
permInt and nodding wheat stretching
along the country road for nearly mile
joined the garden. Before her abrupt
refusal of him, the deacon had been
accustomed to drop in for little visit
or to bring o neighborly offering OF
apples or fresh vegetables. But these
calls had ceased, and, cut off from all
her sources of news and pleasure, Mrs.
Appledore stayed closely at home, prac-
tised her music, and entertained the
professor.
But one sunshiny afternoon Mrs.
Phlox came bustling up the prinl
graveled walk.
Rosetta Appledore," she chirped
like an angry bluejay, as she opened
the door, Though clod, which there
are folks that think different, I've come
to ask you if you know you're the town
talk ?"
"The town talk ?" echoed .her
astonished sister.
Eyes, the town talk" repeated Mrs.
Phlox, with wonderful emphasis. "Any.
body would be who had spent two
blessed months philanderin' with 9
marriedman.
"Who is married?"
Your Prof. Smith.
"I don't believe it."
"I s'posed you wouldn't but I've seer
his wife" said Mrs. Phlox, with evident
satisfaction. Miss Merrills, she twas
Pearly Ann Truesdale, wouldn't miss 6
findin' out anything if she had to walk
ten miles, an she called on her, an tolG
me. That night seq to John, John,
seq I, "a sisters sister, specially il
she's younger an a wilder, an if be &
clod I'm goin' to the bottom of this
AN, seq he, Emma Jane, L think you'C
better, an the first thing he did the
next mornin' was to hitch up an take
me over on the mile strip where that fel
low lives, in Tony Allerton's cottage
He want in, but she was, an she wal
washin'.
"I'm Miss Phlox. SEE 1, 'an' come
to call Thank you, SEE she, I'm
Miss Smith, an she set out the only
chair there was in the room for me
an set down herself ON the wash
bench.
"'Air you Miss st. Clair Smith, the
wife of the professor ? seq /.
/" A sort of smile twinkled over hel