The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1884-11-27

Mr. Frank Whitco1nb, son and heir OF
Greenwood Hill
The fair, dimpled face of Classy
Mayne, with the curly, golden hair,
which would ripple in wayward little
ringlets round her white neck and brow,
had proved an unacknowledged attrac-
ton to Frank Whitcomb for some time.
Il don't care" he soliloquized, If
they've left her shaving at home, while
Kate and Lu-not half as attractive as
she-are all dressed up and on hand On
every occasion, she shall at least have
some of the forthcoming treat" And
going to the great pantry beyond :he
Kitchen, he placed mold of ice-cream
in a large basket, then several kinds of
cake-froSted, chocolate, macaroons.
cocoanut cakes, glass of jelly and Z
great package of nuts and oonfec-
tionery.
..She won't care for molasses candy"
he said. as a shout of merry glee
sounded from the kitchen close by.
Then going with his basket to the
front door, he quietly entered the hall,
donned his coat and hat and started off
with his sweet load.
He wished, if possible, to leave the
basket without obliging Classy to thank
him, SO planned placing his card on the
top of the basket, then leaving it on the
top step, after ringing the bell.
But arrived at the house the front
door YVES actually ajar, and he could
see the dining-rOOm closet door ajar
also. He had often visited at the house,
being quite favorite with the young
ladies, and he now quickly decided to
creep softly in, deposit his basket Ill
the closet, then creep softly out again.
ring the bell and tell Classy he had dis
covered the door ajar and thought it
hardly safe-it would be SO agreeable
TO see her just for a moment-then he
would advise her to look in the closet
and see what she could find.
He entered quietly enough, but one
Of the children had left top just Out-
side the closet door, which luckiess
touch of his foot sent rolling along. He
paused at the sound, but hearing moth
ing, ventured into the closet; the next
instant the door was slammed to amid
Aunt Abby'S screams, and Classy had
flown out to secure his arrest.
At the croner of the street she ran
against Captain Barkson, a powerfully
built man, and retired sea-Captain.
20, Captain Barkson" Classy gaSped
forth, ''there'S a robber in our house,
come quick
Captain Barkson waited to hear no
more, but turning, ran at once with
Classy to the house, finding Aunt Abby
grimly waiting at the front door.
The Captain went at once to the
closet indicated as holding the presum-
ing thief and robber, and opened wide
the door, disclosing the laughing face
Of Frank Whitcomb!
well, of all things on the earth!'' ex-
claimed Aunt Abby, when at last she
the situation.
The liberal thief told his story in Il
of time, and Classy with burn
ing cheeks invited the gentlemen to
stay and partake of the bounteous sup
ply of good cheer, found in such ludi-
;rOus manner.
But Captain Barkson declared the
young folks were waiting his appear
ince at home, so bidding all a cordial
goodnight, he flung back the laughing
assurances:
You'll never hear a word of this
Scrape from me, friend Whitcomb; you
shall spin your own yarns ON this sub
ect."
Then Mr.. Whitcomb sportivelv de-
;lared he had been detained too long
already, and gathering up his basket
Oade Classy lingering goodnight; but
Aunt Abby followed him to the front
1oor, repcntantly deploring the events
Of the evening.
In vain Mr.. Whitcomb assured her it
was ''all right" she had acted bravely
in defence OF herself and Miss Classy.
You see," she went on apOloget-
cally, Il came upon the poor child I'M
myself, and there l found
her all alone praying for patience, poor
little thing! that was all she could say:
Give me patience;' and I do say it is
shameful the way that that child is put
lpon?'
May be she will not always be put
lpon," was Mr.. Whitcomb's brief re-
ply.
Aunt Abby returned to tho dining
room, her eyes falling al once upon the
generous viands now spread forth in
full glory.
Classy" she said, beamingly, ''that
handsome young fellow says may beyou
won't always be put upon as you are
low," and Aunt Abby's emphasis was
50 marked ald significant that Classy
olUShed crimson.
Crank, Frank. where are you?"
Mrs. WhitcOmb had called all over
the house, but no Frank was to be
found. She was beginning to feel anx-
ious at his strange disappearance, and
the supper had been delayed fully hall
an hour when Frank quietly reappeared,
and to his mothers eager questioning,
he replied, his EYES fairly twinkling with
merriment:
80, got into a daisy of scrape,
ma. I'll tell you all about it to-mor-
row."
But from that night Frank Whitcomb
was haunted continually with the mem
ory of that poor little thing" who
''could only pray for patience. So it
came to pass that one night he called
on Mr.. Blake, and after his departure,
Mr.. Blake faced his wife with the abrupt
announcement:
Wife, Frank Whitcomb wants
CasSy."
Nh. ro., l1I Al