Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1884-12-19

lips. Should she tell the truth: Never
had such a dinner been served in the
Gothic cottage as on that day Lefore
Thanksgiving. MI. limbs raised the
lid OF the soup-tureen with the eager
ness of hungry man, dipped the ladle
into the milk-thickened oyster stew,
and exclaimed, sharply: "Take ii
away!-this soup is burned"
81 never left it no more nor five min
utes," asserted Bridget, and sidled of
with the turecn, gazing at her master
over her shoulders in such a very strange
manner that he might have been war
ranted in believing sudden madness to
to have smitten the household.
Pamela played with her poon. Alas!
1t was a plated one for everyday use.
The chicken was hopelessly raw, the
potatoes were cold, the apple-pie
scorched to a cinder, with the addition
OF a flavor of ashes. Humanity, with
an empty stomach, asserted itself in
the master of the house as he ate a
pickle.
Greatly, the prospect for Thanksgiv-
ing is a lively one, my dear. Ihope
the banquet may not prove a Barme-
eldal feast, after all. 1 should like a
IPolynesian pudding I once read about.
The bread-fruit, ripe plantain, taro,
palm or pandanus nut, are rasped,
pounded and baked separately. Then
a large tray is filled with cocoanut
milk, kept simmering by popping in
heated stones, and the other ingredi-
ents, fresh from the oven, are added.
Think of cocoanut milk for a pudding
sauce!!" 2
perhaps you had better live in
Polynesia" snapped Pamela.
The wretched meal concluded, Wal
ter took refuge in a cigar, while Pamela
attacked the grand piano in a storm of
discords.
"Spare my nerves." groaned the hun
cry husband, after a time.
Pamela rose and founced into the
darkness of the little conservatory.
Her heart ached, tears were ready to
overflow her eyes, and her nerves were
strung to a tension of excitement by
the disaster Of the day; but pride still
upheld. her. The conservatory was
dark and fragrant; the young wife
moved about with an assump-
ton of Indifference, and sang a
little tune. The stand of large plants
formed a denser foliage at the end,
with a recess behind. AS she lifted a
spray Of flowers to inhale their per-
fume, Pamela saw a man crouching on
his hands and knees in the recess. She
recognized the shock head of the
tramp. Pamela's heart bounded vio-
lently, and stood still; the blood ran
cold in her veins. She did not scream
or fall. In a lightning flash of swiftest
conviction she beheld the tramp, dis
covered, spring forth to stretch Walter
~lifeless at her feet, if she ceased to
sing. Held by this mortal dread, she
continued to hum her song; she even
pluckcd a flower from the plant near
est the hidden foe. Then she crept
away slowly, faster and faster, until
she swung to the door of the adjoining
room, slid the bolt with stiffening
fingers, and fell in a little heap, gasp
ing: "a mantle tramp-is hidden
there!" At the same time there was a
noise in the conservatory Of falling
plants and crash of glass, incident to
the tramp's escape through the case
ment rather than be taken like a rat in
a trap.
Walter gathered up Pamela in his
arms and placed her on a sofa. Then
he gave chase, revolver in hand. Soon
all louisville joined in pursuit of the
outcast. Every cottager turned out, to
a man, to defend his own hearth-stone.
The news flew like lightning that Mrs.
limbs had found a burglar hidden in
her conservatory, ready to plumber
should have retired to rest. Weapons
were snatched up, lanterns lighted, and
~watch-dogs let loose, as if ever tramp
waited under cover Of darkness for all
such preparations of capture! Even
the poet came ia<th in embroidered
dressing-gown and cap, his spectacles
polished, and a silver-mounted poniard
in his grasp. The tramp had vanished
as completely as if the earth had swal-
lowed him, and only the rustling Of the
wind through the trees andthe murmur
of the river responded to the shouts of
the pursuers. When Walter returned
to his abode, flushed with the fruitless
search, he found Pamela weeping bit
terly on the sofa, while Bridget stood
by with her apron to her eyes.
81 am not hurt, my pet, and, the ras
cal will not RETURN" said Walter, Law
ishing endearments on his wife, for his
heart began to melt.
'::Oh, it's not that" sobloed Pamela.
'.No, indade, it's not that, thin,''
echoed Bridget, with a sympathetic
howl.
.'What is it, thenp" coaxed Walter.
"Why, he had been heretofore =
cried Pamela.
"He had, jist, bad luck to him o.
added Bridget, behind her apron.
"Ah the tramp had been here be.
fore. Did you leave the door open?''
pursued Walter, with a deceitful smile.
Pamela swept the handkerchief from
her eyes. with a tragic gesture. Con.
cealment was no longer possible.
.'What 1 have suffered this day" she
she exclaimed. ''You may as well
know the worst at once. The silver
is gone, and we are ruined. Oh, those
darling spoons with the little curly
ends, and that duck of a sugar-siftel
shaped like a thistle! I shall never
boro opv ~o,.oS