The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1883-08-17

equipped, even 70 mis- gloves, before I
had half finished dressing.
as he passed. II only wanted to let
you know that i = am ready whenever
you are.'
OF curse l had to hurry after that,
but as l always hurried anyhow, it did
not make much difference. Charley
said nothing except, 1.-THE carriage is at
the door," when l came down. OF
course after all the fuss l had made, /
could not say that it was too early to 90,
though | knew very well that it was and
was quaking inwaraly all the way.
Don't you think it would be pleasant
to drive round Washington square2" /
said in desperation.
Charlie: Are you u4 mad, Lel Sa'iA1 Why
not by Philadelphia at once? Washing
ton square is miles out of our way.''
AS if that was not just my object! l
could not explain myself, however, so I
kept still, and we drove to our destin-
alton by the shortest route. OF course
the house was dark when we reached it,
the hostess entirely unprepared to re-
ceive us, and the waiter who let us in
equally surprised and contemptuous at
untimely arrival. Of course we had
l in the ladies' and Charley in the gen.
tleman's dressing room before we dared
descend. Even then we were among
the earliest guests"
81 begin to feel the reward of virtue
already" sighed Charley, as we de-
scended the stairs. How nice it is
to be early! The carriage is or
dered for one, and I'll be sure to be
ready"
He was-and / was not. | had met an
old friend, and we were in the middle
of a most interesting conversation. She
was only at New York en- PEASANT, and 1
should not see her again. 1t was very
provoking to be obliged to break off in
the middle of our talk, but how could I
tell Charley that I was not ready when
virtue? 1t was beyond my power, and
absurd as it was, I had to say good bye to
Anna and go.
l had not supposed at first that Char
ley's reformation was permanent, but as
the days went on, | was forced to con-
Tess that it looked very much like as il
it were. Promptly as the clock struck
Six in the evening, he entered the house;
promptly as it struck nine in the morn
ing he left it. No entreaties could de-
tain him an instant beyond his time.
No, Leila, my DEAR" was his inva.
riable reply, 81 have already wasted too
much of life by unpunctuality. You
have convinced me of my error. Why
strive now to undo the good which you
have done?"
Of course such sentiments ought to
have delighted my heart, and they did,
in a measure. Only in a measure, how
ever, | must confess. for | began to
think that we should be known every
where as 1.-THE early birds" 1t was new
er necessary to urge Charley to get ready
tor anything. we were always the first
In church; we were waiting at the door
Of the operas and theatres long before
they We're open; at parties or receptions
it was our invariable Gus
tom to spend from half
an hour to an hour in the dressing room
in order to descend with the earliest
guests. And Charley was continually
eXpatiating on the sweet reward OF vir-
tue and thanking me for teaching him
the beauty of pu~nctuality. Ispent myself
IN vain wonderings as to how long this
state OF things was to last; but of course
1t came to a climax finally.
My oldest and most intimate friend,
Tina Verringer, was to be married and
NieiiSN oiio 4 iad NpNGu III lilt ulOSl
( solemn name to attend the wedding.
lima lived at Mountclair and it was
there, Of course, that the ceremony was
to take place. s
"Do you think that nine o'clock will
be early enough to leave here?" asked
Charley meekly.
Nine o'clock! My dear Charley, she
is rot to be married until one, and
Mountclair is only an hour away"
~ know" said Charley, tsbut l was
anxious to be in time. l think that we
had better start at nine to make sure"
swallowed my establishment as I best
could. and submitted. 1t was not a
pleasant day. If | were not afraid of
exoggerating, l should say Mat it sas a
decidedly unpleasant one, being cold
chillness that goes through your bones.
Already a few stray snow flakes were
futtering down. giving promise of Il
storm later in the day.
The depot at Hoboken is not aspecial-
ly eXhiiarating place to wait in; but
Charley settled himself comfortably
with his paper upon one of the straight
up and down s%ettees, saying, owe need
not take TOO early a train, but it is we'll
to be on hand; eve if we do reach
Montclair too soon, we can walk about
aiit see lhe pace, you Know.
Walk about and see the place on such
Il day! ] said nothing, but l inwardly
decided that we would not take too ear
ly a train. At least we We're warm and
sheltered where we were, and who knew
what we might find al the other end?
While | was settling this point in my
own mind, the door at the end of the
room was flung open and Charley sprang
to his feet.
Come" he said; 1--WE might as we'll
make sure of this train, after ALL and
before | could find words in which to
couch my objections without giving the
lie to all the fixed principles of my lie,
we were in the cars.
Charley was buried in his newspaper
ard / was gazing from the window upon
the fast whitening meadows, when the
conductor paused before us with u de-
mand for "Tickets." They We're ready to
hand, but the conductor gazed upon them
blankiy.
aWhereto?' he asked, briefly.
"Montclair," replied Charley, with
equal b1evity.
Wrong train. Yours left ten min
utes later from the other door. You'd
better get out at Newark, and take it
there. If you miss it, there'll be another
along in forty minutes"
ct is fortunate that we have plenty of
time,'' said Charley to me, as the IN
iuctor left us. AREN'T you glad that
have reformed in regard to pune
tuality?"
sob. very gladi" l said with a slight
tinge Of irony, and adding, inwardly,
ESPECIALLY if it leads you TO take the
wrongtrain ratherthan waitfor the right
one"
We got out at Newark and took the
,av} trnir that on,on olnpr poipy thc