The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1884-12-05
COUSIN TON,
I am astonishedip'

astcnished. In truth and in fact, she
lived in q chronic state of astonish-
ment, for Mary Thorne was always do.
ing something to astonish her friends
and relatives.
Miss Ruth could scarcely credit the
evidence Of her own senses in the hazy
glow of the August morning, when
she came out OF the shadows of the
little south porch aud discoved that
yonder moving object, half way up
among the branches of the huge old
pear tree. was not . spray of leaves,
nor . cluster OF sun-cheeked pears,
swinging in the blue empyrean, but
Miss Mary Thorne, comfortably perch.
ed in the crook of the old tree, her curls
all iecked with the sifted ray Of sun
shine that came down through the
shifting canopy Of leaves, and q book
in her hand.
II don't care" said the little dsmsel,
laughing saucy defiance. It's the
incest place in the world up here. ]
feel Just like q bird, with the leaves
Entering against my face and the
wind blowing no softly, and I intend
to stay here. Wouldn't you like to
come up here. Ruthy? It's easily
done. Just put your foot on that knot,
and then"
Ruth who was thirty and whighed q
hundred and sixty pounds, bristled up
with amazemenk
"Mary Thorne, are you crazy? Come
down this instant"
Indeed I shantl" said naughty
Mary, tossing the silky shower of curls
away from her forehead, and glancine
down with eyes that shone and sparkled
like two blue jewels.
"But we are all going"
"Yes, understand; yon are all geing
in triumphal procession to the depot to
render an ovation to the great Profes-
sor La Place, the wisest, sagest and
grandest Of, mankind, to whom the
Thorne family have the unutterable
honor of being second cousins, and to
escort him solemnly to q months So
journ at Thorne Hall. Oh, dear! |"
eiaculated Mary, 1T wish I could run
away somewhere and hide. l hate this
paragon OF prim precision. I shan't
marry him if he asks, and / mean to be-
have 80 badly that he won't dream of il.
No, I am not going with you. Ihate
the close barouche, and it's too warm to
ride on horseback. I shall stay at
home.p
And Mary settled herself so snugly,
with tiny, slippered foot swinging
down, and her pretty head close to a
nest Of blue-speckled birds eggs, that
Ruth gave it up with a sigh of despair.
"Well, then, have it your WI way,
you incorrigible romp. / wish you
weren't too big to shut up in q dark
closet, or have Your ears well boxed"
ut isa pity, isn't it?" said Mary,
demurely.
aOfcourse it is, Mary! If Cousin Tom
Bradley comes this morning. be sure to
explain to him why we are absent-and
behave like a young lady, mind!"
"All right" said Mary, dauntlessly.
II always liked Tom. We used to have
grand romps together!"
She sat there in the old pear tree,
prettier than any hamadryad that ever
might have haunted the messy old vet
eran of the garden, her cheeks touched
with sunshine and carmine. her dim
pied lips apart, now reading a line Oh
two from tie book in her lap, now
looking up, rapt in girlish reverie, into
the blue sky, as it sparkled down
through ever moving leaves, and now
breaking into o soft little MARBLE Of
song, to which the very robins them
selves put their heads to ono side to
listen.
The carriage had driven away long
since. She had watched it beyond the
curve of the winding road; the dark
mantle of shadow was slowly following
the creeping sun-glow across the velvet
lawn below, and the clock in the old
church-spire among the far-of woods
had chimed out eleven.
And still Mary Thorne sat there in
those forked branches Of the old pear
tree.
Suddenly there f1oated into her leafy
sanctum a pungent, aromatic odor,
which made her lean curiously for
ward, shading her eyes with n hand,
better to penetrate the green foliage be-
low.
Not the late monthly roses, not the
AMETHYST borders of heliotrope, nor the
spicy geraniums-none of these BIOS
SONS distilled that peculiar smell.
"My patience!" said little Mary; "it's
cigar"
A cigar it was, and the owner there
of-she could Just see a white linen
coat and a tall head covered with black
wavy curls- stood on the porch steps
understanding and indulging in q
heightened view of the garden slopes.
THAT'S Tom Bradley" said Mary to
herself. Nov, if he thinks I'm com
ing down out of this delicious, cool
place to sit straight in the hot parlors,
he's mistaken! Toni" she called
out, in a silver accent of imper-
summons, and then burst into
merry laughter at the evident amaze
ment with which the stranger gazed
round him, vainly trying to conjecture
whence the call had proceeded. aYou
dear, stupid Cousin Tom" she sjacula-
ted. "Don't stare off toward the cab
bage bed. Look straight up here.
You may come if You please; there is
Of room for both. You are
Cousin Tom, aren't your" she contin-
ned, as sudden misgivings crossed her
mind.
aof course I am; and You are Mary,
/ SUPPOSED"
Mary herself. Up with you Tom
Catch hold Of this branch-there! Now
shake hands-You saucy fellow! ]
didn't say you might kiss mel"
"Well, / couldn't help it; and, be-
sides, aren't we cousins % said Mr.. Tom,
swinging himself comfortably into a
branch just above Mary.
why, Ton, how you have changed"
sL s.I.