The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-12-05
A RURAL BELLE.
IH. 8. Keller in Boston Globe I

kk1s 0s hStlSk lu 0O3tou 0tOUCst
 Did you ever sec . genuine, rural belle1 As a study, vastly animated study of the bonhommie unrestraint of
 nature in its variable mood, the rural
 belle occupies pedestal of her own, and
 what is more to the credit of this bird oi changeable plumAge, she created that self-same plumage herself. Novelists
 are in the habit of calling this sort of a creature Hebe. Why they do 1 capno,
 say, Hebe of the latter day order of TO. nance is something l cannot surround
 with any degree of satisfaction. may
 mention right here, viz: did try to surround rural belle once, but there suit was far beyond my utmost anticipa- tionS. O.her fellows have tried to do likewise. The returns thus !ay received prove exclusively that it requires some thing more than cheek and check pants to attain the proper modicum a la circu- lar about this coy though willing belle of the rural parts.
 The romance-grinder delights to call the festive belle oi the meadow unsophis- ticated. No man was ever more mis- taken ia all his life than the putative chap of the fashionable walks of life who en. deavored to woo the belle from the chrysalis of reluctancy by the allure ments of the divine passion, pure and simple.
 The rural belle isn't that sort of bird. She is of different material. She knows mcrs about the requisite amount of red pepper properly added to soft mush for hens than she does of taffy. Still, there is no gainsaying it when she does drop to taffy, she is quite capable of roasting the supposed-to- -be-ensnarer upon the gridiron of her unmitigated scorn.
 A man who falls in love with the rural belle must have the patience of lob, grip of rsntalus and stoicism of Prone thens. The belle of the rural parts is variable in her temper. One minute she will smother you with her warm caresses, and the next she will want to brain you with three legged lacteal tripod. Ooe day she will want to romp on the green. sward, and the next day she will tie you down to dose of Longfellow's Evange- line." In the morning she will feed you on milk and honey, and in the evening she will leave you all alone under the wild-grape arbor while she goes riding with the russet-cheeked son of brawn who owns the adj oining farm by right of legacy. Right here 1 might just as we'll say few words about this scion of hay making race who owns the adj )ining farm by right of legacy. He is the acme of manly perfection in the estim ation of the rural belle. When he lays down his hand no others need apply. The queen nf he so,r A..k @k :~ woman; next to reigning supreme over h. fathers farm, from boundary line to boundary line, she looks forward with blissful anticipation to the time when she can reign with undisputed glory over farm of her own. This is the reason why the russet-cheeked son of brawn, who owns farm by right of legacy, is so often a stumbling block in the path of the city youth who would wooing go with more cheek than ducats. Still there is charm about having your wings singed la pro- verbial moth that is utterly irresistible. That is the reason why so many city youngsters come back from rural parts with chalky complexion and sad eyes. They have been singed. The gre ater por- ton of te em commit matrimonial suicide and f.sten themselves down to caramel devourins machine in silks and satin, with a pug-dog attachment-simply pique.
 Oh yes there is no mistaking it. The rural belle carries a superabundancy of female loveliness about her. She also has a great amount of the handy knowl- edge known as tact. She can win a mans heart, and send his peace of mind to the four winds quicker than the most cultured darling of fashion. But, love a rural belle, and be loved in return, and-well, no mater.