Frostburg mining journal., 1883-02-03
FROsTBURG MD SATURDAY MORNING. FEBRUARY 3, 1888
gelett Stony,
"FOR MR.. JOHN THOMP-
SON."

Mr.. John Thompson came down to
breakfast rosy and Aossy, and looking
as happy as any reasonable man
might desire. His wife sat smiling
at the head of the table, and his little
daughter Maude Amelia, on one side;
while, to crown the measure of his
content, boiled spring-chicken and
yatercl esse-hia favorite break fas t.
dish-greeted his gratl6ed gaze.
$50 spring has come already, has
it p said Thompson, with glance at
the vernal fowl and it's verlant ac-
compartment.
Eyes indeed" responded Mrs.
Thompson, as she smilingly poured
out the coffee; and then, with a PEN
sive lock, she continued II was at
Ma lame Robinette's yesterday, look
ing at the spring bonnets"-a slight
shadow passed over Thompson face
"the loveliest that l ever beh eld, and
so chsapl"
"Ah r. said Thompson, ahsently
muEchiug a cress.
81 tried on one," continued Mrs.
Thompson, "almost exquisite white
hat, with seven pink ostrich trips.
It really made me look ten year 8
younger"
you're young enough" said her
husband a little abruptly. "You
wouldn't want to look like a school
girl r
"And then Just stepped into Field
g. Fostar's," resumed Mrs. Thompson,
and really it was as good as a mu-
seum to see the exquisite dress goods.
There was one brocaded spring silk
--rosebuds on a dark ground-which
50 exactly suited my taste and COM
plexion that it really seemed TO have
been made for me. 1 thought l
would go right over to-day and get
it before it ia snapped up by some
one else. It's only thirty-fve dol
lars +
Thompson wlnked. He began to
understand about the true inwardness
of the early spring-cLicken and
cres7es
"My dear. couldn't you wait
awhile? l have just at this time a
pressing uso for every dollar that I
can command. N xt week"
B Mrs Thompson had set down
her coff4e-cup au wa drawing forth
her pocket handkerchief.
81 knew you'd refuse" she said
huskily,
But, Maggie, woman cannot al
ways understand what pressing need
her husband may sometimes have for
moi ey in his business affairs. If you
will only wait"
Sand let that hateful Mrs. Morchie
get the silk"
Just here the door-bell rang, and
Miss Msude Amelia jumped down
from her high chair and ran to an
swer it.
Its your letters and papers, pa.
pa |" she cried, holding them up ;
"and one of EN- smells so nice, just
like mamma's pretty bottles on her
bureau T.
Thompson looked at the missive in
question. So did his wife; and she
noticed that it was in lady's hand
writing, and directed to "Mr. John
ThompsoO."
She watched him as he glanced
over the first few lines. Then he
looked at the signature, smiled-a
constrained and furtive smile-and
folding the note, without finishing it
glanced at his wife, colored a little
and slipped it under papers beside
his plate.
"Who is that perfumsd envelope
from ?" inquiring his wife.
"Why, sort of business note" he
answered, indifferently.
"Flom lady ?" said Mrs. 'rhomp
son, suspioiously.
"Yes-from a lady" he admitted
reluctantly.
"What business can a lady have
with you?"
"Only a little private busines
matter. I will tell you in day o.
two. Why" glancing up at the clock
"It's later than I thought by tel
minutes. must hurry"
And he did hurry; and in hi
baste went up stairs for something b