The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1884-09-18

Uuc6O 1t, anu dSkcu nlIn Ile Simple
question upon which her heart was set.
For answer he simply put his hand on
the piece of her choice, and she smiled
pleasantly as she turned to the spruce
and accommodating salesman. The
latter, taking in the situation at
glance with the keen eye of an expert
in humanity, and suppOsing it was of
course a question OF dollars and cents
she was propounding to her unfortunate
deaf and dumb husband, rapidly wrote
upon bit of paper, splendid goods;
wear like iron; never fade; very cheap;
fifty per cent. below cost price; never
get another chance like it." which pa
per he placed in the hands of the aston
ished Mr.. John Benton.
whats this?" he exclaimed, look
ing alternately from the clerk to his
wife. "'Pears to me you're in hurry
with your bill, young man."
Never was there a more astounded
salesman behind counter than this.
And his chagrin equalled his surprise.
With confused apology, which seemed
to include something about deaf
mute" he tried to make amends by
renewed courtesies and attentions to
Mrs. Benton, vino was plunged in mis-
cry. 1t is hard to conceive of a
woman so wretched who had just come
into possession of a new and handsome
outfit.
John Benton's special business in
town was to pay an insurance premi-
UNI, and he and his wife called tOgeth-
er at the palatial Office of the company.
While waiting their turn to be accomo-
dated, John and his wife stood neal
the door. As he was looking over a
city directory to pass away the time,
his wife, being seized with a new idea,
wrote it out, and handed him the fatal
slate. John, for convenience in read
ing the sentence on the slate, put the
directory under his arm, whereupon,
just at this moment, the pompouS Secre-
tary of the insurance company came in
from the street, and taking in the stu
alton with the keennesS of sight and
astuteness that characterize the dis
corning city man, from a dry-goods
salesman up to high official in an in
surance company, he touched the fated
John upon the arm, and pointed to
card upon the wall on which the legend
ran thus: "No beggars, peddlers, or
book agents allowed TO pursue their
avocations here" 1t was some time
before John or his wife could cOmpre-
bend the connecting link between
themselves and that card; but when,
with the mild assistance of the official
dignitary, it dawned upon them that
John was taken for book agent, Mrs.
Benton turned purple with rage, and
in explaining their business there did
not spare the feelings of the wretch
who had given another sting to her
wounded pride. But John was dis
posed to laugh it off, and still further
added to the confusion of those pres
ent by transacting his business in good
audible English.
Itremains to this day a mystery to
the unfortunate dry goods clerk, as well
as to the nonplussed secretary, what
could induce a couple to converse to-
gether on slate who could use such
forcible and Ineligible language to
others.
After their unfortunate experience in
the city the unhappy pair began to
only were their mutual interests suffer-
ing in various ways by reason of this
very imperfect means of communica-
ton, but as their love for one another
was strong and genuine, in spite of the
foolish embargo they had put upon
their speech, they chafed under the irk-
some restraint of a protracted silence.
While they were both revolving in their
minds plans that might lead to a way
out of the difficulty, fate came to their
rescue, and saved them from them
selves, though in an unexpected and
painful way.
Upon the anniversary of their silence
John Benton and Teddy were busy in
the hay field, and as the storm was
Mrs. Benton and Maggie
came to the rescue with their rakes. a
large load was on the wagon, and Mrs.
Benton and Maggie volunteered to ar
range the hay upon the cart as John
threw it up to them. John had Just
started to lead the horses to another
part of the field, when, on looking up
at the load, he saw his wife still stand
ing. He motioned to her to sit down,
but she failed to notice his signal. and
the horses started; at the same time
John saw her lunge backward and slide,
from the load. Before
he could stop the team and get to her
she had struck the ground, upon her
head. With faint gasp, and with a
semi-conscious but dazed cry, she said:
t'Don't you ever speak"
Hush" said the scared man; ''for
Gods sake, Mary, don't talk that way
nowI" ,..--.
In another moment she lay uncon-
scious in his trembling arms, pale and
still as death. &
cor exclaimed the unhappy man,
"if had only screamed to her to sit
down instead of trusting that con-
founded pantomine, perhaps it would
not have happened"
Taking her up tenderly in his strong
arms, he carried her to the house, and
all the way into her now deaf ears he
poured out his love and lamentations;
his tongue was looSened, and seemed
to be trying to make up for lost time.
her hands, and tried to kiss back her
color and to coax into action that long
silent voice, he rnoaned: What would
l not give now to hear her talk to me
again. 1t would be bliss to hear her
seold, even. Perhaps-perhaps," and
he shuddered as he said it, ''she may
aerer speak again"
The new-mown hay threatened by
the coming storm was nothing to him
now. He neither knew nor cared
the sky was black or blue. All
was black about him, and there was
only one. object that he could see.
Even Teddy. who had shared his con-
fidence, and Maggie, who had been the
soiace of his poor wife during the dull, |