The Penn's Grove record., 1884-03-08
THE WAY 1T HArrENED.

nuns yelling, jaunty little blue hat,
about the size of a saucer, tipped to
one side in a most bewitchingly hearet-
rendiug manner; n she wore cream
colored kids, and carried a white
pongee-taken in all, a fairy!
She smiled at me, and held out her
hand.
1 took it mechanically. What did
this mean2
She pouted-ahl those cherry lipsl-
and stamped her little No. , inpatient
ly on the floor.
"You don't seem very glad to see
me, 8 she said pettishly.
L murmured that l was delighted
entrancedi So l was-such visions
were not of everyday occurrence with
me.
s'Wen?'' said she, oleefully, that's a
comfort! Now, they told me that you
wouldn't receive me-that | would be
turned out of doors"
"RcptiDes!'' said l..
,sBut | came-and you're not angry?
"Angry!
l could say no more.
Then she walked up and down the
room.
GLOW do you like my dress?" she
asked, revolving before me as if on a
pivot,
l murmured something about the
'sangclic superbness!''
q did intend" She sad, half doubt
fully, to get a dress of gray cashmere,
with underskirt trimmed with deep
pIaiting-the space to be filled in with
bias folds above the plaitings in a band
of silk-the oversKirt cut square-the
side cores rounded up four inches and
finished with a bow-the back breadth
Il inches longer, and looped up into a
t@ournure. That, with a pretty little
sacquc with opea sleeves, trimmed to
match the under dress, would be nice,
wouldn't it?"
l murmured an unqualified assent
not that | understood what she was
talking about, for she uttered the full
description in one breadth, but then l
dida't know what l was saying.
"But," said she, "I bought this
nuns yelling because liked it. Don't
you?'
Il admire your taste, said 1, family,
for | was fast losing my senses, through
wondering as to who and what she was.
you're Il dear, good fellow" said
she rapturously; and | know We'll get
on well t~ogether!''
Sol She intended to stay hcrel | was
getting into very deep waterl
"Now, then" she continued, ''show
me some place to put my things, and
then you and | will have a talk.
l mechanically pointed out a small
room opening out of the library. She
hurried in. | sat like Il statue carved
from ad&mant. Deeper water.
Presently she returned, Invested of
little hat, pongee and kids. Dainty
and jaunty as tue little hat was, it never
could be such a head dress as the curly
black head of hair; and the bare hand
was certainly prettier and its dimples
showed better than when gloved.
could not speak, only looked.
She cast Il searching glace around the
library,
'IIorrid dirtyr" she said, dIsdainfully,
''When has it been ~cleaned?''
"About Il year ago" | said quickly.
She gave utterances to a pretty little
scream.
"A Year, Shockirgl Oh, l couldn't
sit down in Il room that hasn't been
cleaned for Il year? This must be put
to rights"
She said this in a very determined
tone and then set to work. She con-
verted my linen coat into an apron,
tied a cunning little handkerchief over
that pretty head, and s%natching up the
fly buster, busted away valiantly-
aising IA cloud of dust, in which | sat
gazing on the vision. What did all this
mean? | consulted Moliere, my stand
ing authority, but Moliere could give no
explanation. Could she be an angel,
sent to east a ray of light over my
dismal path of life? Perhaps, but did
angels wear white nuns yelling, and
talk about cashmere and tournures?
rmpossiblel 1t must be a dream.
Suddenly she paused and came to me
through the cloud, and held out her
arms, aud said:
"ltoll up my sleeves, please. | can
work better with them up"
| did roll the white sleeves up, ana
then Immediately secuted the idea of
IS being a dream. Could | dream of
such arms, with such q beautiful
dimple in each elbow?
Certainly not! They were reall |
did think that a sculptor would havo
been proud to have them for a model,
"a | was morally certain that any
sculptor would have been distracted by
the sight, and have dropped his
chisel, despairing of ever doing them
justice.
And then she busted, and while she
busted she sang, what a voicel Don't
mention Nilsson-I won't hear of it'll
And then she drew up a chair, and
sat down beside me, having first re-
moved the handkerchief aud the impro-
vised apron. Then she stock her curls
and addressed me.
MY dear uncle, let IT'S have a talk. -
Her uuclel If my heart had suddenly
changed to a lump Of lead, it couldn't
have sunk quicker that it did then.