Audubon County Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Audubon Co., Iowa) 1885-1894, 1886-09-09

they are nearing nome mat he says;
81 must have one minutes sober talk
with you"
Anybody can be sober; I'd rather be
frivolous" with twinkle and a dim
pie.
''You must promise not to 60 driv-
ing with anybody while am gone"
More dimples. Don't ask too
much"
"And you must write to me-"
81! write! / can't write"
"Then print it in big letters. And
one thing more, Maysie," his voice fall
ing to whisper, "a kiss.
He passes his arm firmly around her
slender waist.
"Just one, darling, to remember till
I come backr' His face is close
to hers, the soft, peachy cheek tempt
ing him beyond his strength. You
never yet gave me kiss he muir
mers.
But the virginia. instinct is strong
in Maysie, and she draws away from
him. "Why should I?' she says, re-
provingly.
Then l shall take one" he says,
boldly.
mo, you dare not!' she replies, and,
indeed, he would be brave man who
would steal kiss with the sweet aus
terity of that youthful look bent upon
him. But in another moment she mets.
"Please forgive me. | can not" she
says, shyly, and at this minute, while
both are blushing, he with dark-red
flush and she with wld-rose bloom,
from a fence corner appears Maysie's
small brother Bob.
"HO!" says the newcomer, derisive-
ly, IF / couldn't drive straighter' n
you I'd put my head to soak! And
mother says she guesseS you waited
for the cloth to be made, you've been
so long
This gentle reminder hastens them
homeward. At the door Hartwell only
pauses to whisper:
Il shall write from New York.
Good-by, sweet" and is gone in an in
slant.
The long, bright summer days pass
by; seven of them have passed over
Maysie's head, but not without sign
from Hartwell. Soon after his de-
parture came a letter and a parcel,
both addressed to Maysie's mother.
The parcel contains sashes and breast
knots of scarlet, far handsomcr than
often seen at the farm, and two dainty
fans. The letter begs the lady to ac-
cept the gifts for her two eldest
daughters and allow them to be worn
at Bcss' graduation. SO soothing is
this epistlc to the matron's feelings
that her only comment is:
"Well, never! sh'd think woman
picked out them fans"
At the end of the week comes an
other letter, this time to Maysie her.
self. 1t says briefly that the writer
has closed his business, and is about
to turn to the country; it mentions
the date of his probable arrival, and
adds that he is sincerely ser friend,
John Hartwell. Maysie reads it again
and again, and finds written between
the lines what no other could; and
after learning it by heart she lays il
carefully away among her few girlsl
treasures.
Bright and cool dawns the day o.
days-the day of Hartwelrs return
Early in the afternoon Maysie takes
her seat in the narrow, vine covered
porch, and at her mothers command
attacks the mending basket, which
holds an enormous quantity of rent!
and fractures; but mending has no ter
rors for Maysie this afternoon. Hou
after hour slips by and no Hartwell APP
pears. Gradually the song dies from
her lips, the light from her eyes
Silently she gathers up her Finished
work and puts it away, sick with
gnawing disappointment.
But he will come this evening"
she thinks, hopefully.
The sun is setting when the farme
comes YEARLY from the field to the even
ing meal, and resorts to bench out
side the kitchen door; here stands
bright tin basin, yellow soap, and
pail of fresh water and near by hang
clean. course towels. Maysie's fathe
and mother are untraveled and unedu
Gated, but their home is pervaded witt
the very essence of all refinement
namely, the most exquisite purity ant
cleanliness. He smooths his iron gra,
lock before passing into the cheerful
orderly kitchen, and. sinking into tn
old arm chair, which has stood at on
particular window for a century, h
says:
Heard there's been bad accident
"Where?" chorus his wife an
daughter.
Half mile down the railroad"
"When?' again the chorus, wit
Maysie's voice left out.
This mornin'; engine jumped tn
track; four men killed and lots wound
ed" relates the farmer, while his wifi
and Bess exclaim, and Maysie stand
helplessly feeling her breath escape i
, audible gasps, and not daring to ask
Hartwell was known to be on the train
But the narrator's voice drones on, a
|, ter an instants pause. with the fatefu
words:
THAT Teller Hartwell was in the ca
' that caught fire. They say you wouldn'
a known him if it hadn't been for hi
q clothes"
I.0h ,,orour1 p,oopS N,rSia