The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1885-02-05
1.-THE WEB OF Our LIFE Is OF
TANGLED YARN"
by ANNABEL b. WHITE (BusY BEE).

The old mouse seemed 10 sleep In the
golden sunshine of royal August af-
ternoon. 1t was judiciously shaded by
large oaks.
Lest the reader should pronounce
this paradox, let me hasten to add
that these trees, although they attract
cd every wanton breeze, and impaired
grateful shade to yard, lawn, and the
deep piazzas, yet they were so far from
the house itself that there was no dan
ger of their boughs tapping like ghost
ly fingers against the windows, nor
yet that far more disagreeable sound of
the scraping d tree branches across
the roof and caves.
So the golden sunshine streamed
clearly down on the old weather-beaten
building. But in spite of this fact the
house was notably cool one on the
hottest summer day.
Col. Lester loved trees, but he had q
horror of the unwholesome damp and
destructive mildew they caused if they
grew caressingly near his dwelling.
On this particular afternoon every
door and window was open, but
the shutters were closed to keep
out the sun and to let
in the air. The large hall-door stood
so widely open it seemed itself gasping
for air, while the two doors on the left
and right of the breezy hall also stood
ajar.
1t was two o'clock-two o'clock in
the sunny South, at which hour all ma
ture and all humanity seem to seek re-
pose from the toll and heat of the day
In this dolce far ,lie,lte land.
The negro laborers slumbered peace
fully under trees the mules rolled and
wallowed luxuriously in the dust or
nodded sleepily over the feed troughs;
the turkeys and chickens stood lazily
about on one leg under the houses the
servants and inmates of the mansion
slept. There was no sound in all the
air except the drowsy hum of insects,
the shrill chirp of the crIckets in the
grass, and the fretful, peevish cry of
those speckled Arabs of the poultry
yard-Guineas.
Inez Lester had gone into the Ii
brary to renew the water in the stand of
flowers she every day placed on her
fathers desk. After her task was fin
fshed the soft GOODNESS of the red and
white striped lounge cover wooed her
to slumber. Her father snoozed COM
fortably in his wicker easy-chair, placed
on the east end of the north piazza,
with large newspaper spread over his
rubicund visage.
No one in his sense ever expects or
dresses for visitors on these hot sum-
mer days in Southland, till the fiery
red. orb of day marks or o'clock p.
m. So Inez made lovely picture. as
she lay asleep on the comfortable
lounge, with her lovely flowing sheer
white wrapper draping her exquisite
limbs.
Well, it was o'clock when the sound
Of leisurely footsteps could have been
heard on the front walk could have
been heard had any one been awake to
hear them, we must add
But the house slept on like an en-
chanted castle, and even the lazy
hounds scattered over yard and piazzas
did not SO much as open their sleepy
eyes when muscular masculine hand
struck the hall-door with vigorous
.knuckles.
The knock was repeated, but elected
no response. Noting the Hospitality
open doors, the stranger boldly entered,
and unfortunately walked into the room
on his left. Had he gone into the room
on his right, he would have done the
correct thing. 1t certainly looked in
vitingly cool, with its furniture up
holstered in cretonne-a creamy ground,
lightly sprinkled with moss rosebuds
and delicate green leaves-and was
most evidently the parlor.
But chance led him to the library
where Inez lay sleeping on the broad
red and white stripes which covered
her resting place, and which cor
responded with curtains and chairs.
He paused on the threshold, discreetly,
and in his embarrassment coughed
slightly. Immediately, Inez opened
her heavy-lidded eyes, and at the sight
of that unknown figure framed in the
doorway, she started up, every faculty
alert.
who are you, sir?" she demanded,
haughtily.
"Carl Vogel, at your service" the
gentleman bowed.
"Sir, you are no gentleman to thus
intrude into lady presence.
my dear young lady, thought
was expected. am the artist whom
YOU iather invited from the city of
New York to paint your lovely portrait"
He did not really know if she were
the one whose portrait he was to paint;
but, astute man, he had long agolearn-
ed that delicate fattery is never wasted
on "fair women
Inez graciously unbent and accepted
his card.
al beg your pardon, and will call
papa Mt once. But we were mistaken
In the day and hour. Papa said you
would come tomorrow at 10 o'clock. J"
(which / intended, but finishing q
picture sooner than anticipated, ran
away from all other engagements, for
needed the recreation of country life. I"
eff you will he so kind as to sit down,
and-excuse me-" aud deeply embar-
raised, but not revealing it by walk or
manner, Inel left the room in quest OF
her father. "That he should see me in
this wrapper" was her mortified
thought, quite unconscious that Carl,
as an artist, must certainly admire her
more in that garb than il she were hab-