McCook weekly tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 188?-1886, 1883-12-20

/ Ill, III, IucTe! - CTltO tuc SIduu-
father, looking at him over his spec.
tacles with a smile that contained but
little reproof. You make a great noise,
youngster."
A middle door, leading from another
room, was gently opened, and a pale,
slender woman, no longer young, and
yet with an indefnable youthfulness
still lowering about her, glided noise
lessly into the room and seated herself
upon the board, and laying her trans
parent hands palm to palm, leaning her
thin white cheek against them, an at
titude full of grace and tender remin-
iscence. Turning her large, luminous
eyes slowly from one object to another,
and letting them rest finally upon her
mother, she said, in dreamy voice:
elbow natural it ali seems. You are
not changed in the least"
"No; why should l changer" re-
turned the mother.
"Most people do" replied the
., daughter, still speaking as if in dream,
u "but you and my father seem to stand
still. l could have fancied it myself to
whom you said just now: You can
o have either butter or molasses, but not
:. both But it is my baby, and that
: means great change for me.''
q ayes, you are greatly changed re-
torted the mother, with an accent Of
disapprobation. eff you had been
/ guided by advice you might have been
better off,
: 81 don't want to he better off, re-
] turned the daughter with Il gentle
| smile, l have loved and been loved to
| my hearts content, and that is the sum
of life.''
| ssLoved!'' exclaimed Mrs. Prewett
with increased disapprobation. ga
poor stick like that! d ne'er-do-well
=. who has left you nothing but a baby"
I "Ah! he loved me so!' sighed the
vornpar ,ro,nnn r"f+l,- ssto tho Lost he
Don't go late and miss the grand
Jnarch at the social, tomorrow evening.
The music by Messrs. wager, Kenyon,
Ryan and Laycock will be fine. The
promenade at s.
You ought to have been present at
hat debating society and experience
meeting combined, held after our city
erica the mother, angrily. cit was that
bewitched you.''
81 have brought it with me-" SAID the
daughter, still in that calm, even tone,
as of one who receives scarcely any i'm
preston from without. ''He drew the
bow across the strings hardly an hour
before he died. George must learn to
play it. He will never find such mas
ter as his father, though"
''He will never learn it with my con-
SENT" said the grandmother, as she re-
moved the great apron which protected
the child's blue worsted frock, and
wiped his sticky hands and face. $50,
now, and play in the garden" she said,
setting him upon the floor. "Come,
Anastasia, eat your breakfast and let
me clear the table," she continued to
her daughter. Il suppose you learned
these dawdling ways in those foreign
places. I've been told they lie abed till
the middle of the forenoon over there.
That's the reason you never got on.
Old Ben. Franklin's rule is the one to
| live by if you want to succeed in life. y
"What is it to succeed?" asked the
| daughter, stirring the half-cold coffee
her mother handed her, without offer
ing to taste it.
"Why, to make money, to have a
home of your own, and something to
live on. What else could it be?''
"No, no; it isn't that replied Ana
stasia, with a radiant smile. ''To sue
coed is to drink life in one great
draught of perfect happiness, and then
de-"
'sTuti tut" cried the father, speak
ing for the first time. ssThat's non
| sense.
"Supreme nonsense" echoed the
| mother. 81 never could understand
| Anastasia's infatuation. At her age,
too. Why, she was nearly thirty! Old
enough to have gotten over all that ro-
mantle folly about love-"
A sudden flash, followed by a sudden
pallor, overspread the delicate face of
the young woman.
"Ah! yes," she exclaimed, leaning
| back and stretching her arms upward,
| sold enough to have tried everything
| else, and found love alone worth hay
ing"
The outstretched arms fell heavily
back, her head dropped upon her
breast, there was a slight culver of the
frame, faint sigh-that was all.
The mother stood with her pile of
| plates in her hand-the father sprang
to his feet, dropping book and spec
tacles upon the floor.
1t was too late to recall her. The
pure, sensitive soul had once more es-
capped from the cold restraints of home
to regain its native atmosphere of love.
FELIX GRAY.