The Washington critic., 1886-05-25

nina his spectncle-glasses, what can L
do for your"
Keturah's heart seemed to leap up
into her mouth, every drop of blood
rushed to her face, while in guilty
whisper she murmured:
"Hair.dye, sir, please"
Dye? repeated tho purblind and
partially deaf old man. "What kind
Of dyer"
IL don't quite know, sir2 The
usual kind, | suppose. Anything but
black" she added, remembering Bar.
bara's remark.
And with n Eyes, yes" and patro-
nizing smile old Mr. Mill put her up u
bottle Of the brightest aniline-red that
he possessed.
"Gals is always partial to bright
colors." he said to himself.
And Keturah ran all the way home,
as If the whip poor.wills and rabbits
would know that she had bottle Of
hair dye wrapped up in her pocket.
handkerchief
Once safe In her own little garret
| room, she rubbed the mixture well
into the roots Of her hair, brushing 1t
out TO the very ends, according to
Barbara's description Of the "city
boarder's" manipulations.
| She had scarcely finished, when she
heard her stepmother's voice calling: .
| "Keturahl .rd-dhP'
"Ma'm2" she chirped feebly back. /
"Come down stairs quickl" said Mrs.
Hitchings, in a sort of stage shout up
the back stairs. "Here's your brother,
Sim, and Harry Boyce, come by the
night stage, and supper to get for en-,
and nobody knows what all Do make
hastcl"
And momentarily forgetful of the
| blithely down stairs to be kissed by
Sim and chivalrously greeted by Mr..
Boyce.
Both student lamps were lighted,
and Mrs. Hitchings had even gone to
the extravaganza of pair of mould
candles on the mantelpiece, and as
Keturah turned to help set the table
there was an unanimous shout OF
laughter.
"Why, Kit, how do you come to be
topped off with cardinal.red p jeer.
ingly demanded Simeon.
"What in all creation ails youi
hair p asked her father.
And Keturah, catching q glimpse oI
herself in cherry. framed looking
glass which hung opposite, uttered
shrek of dismay, and took to precipi
tous fight.
Her head no longer bore the old hue
of coppery- but now displayed thu
vivid cardinal hue of Farmer Rum
ford's new barn door.
And as she hastened to hide herself
she heard the laughter-choke voice o.
Simeon exclaiming, incoherently:
"Well, always knew that red hai
was fashionable, but didn't know tha
the girls were so wild after 1t as to dye
their bangs the regular blazing yer
million"
Mrs. Hitchings herself got the suppeI
that night. 1t was Barbara's evening
out, and poor Kcturah was nowhere t
be found. And 1t was nearly 10 O'CLOCK
when the weeping girl, coming up thu
long pear.tree walk, met Mr.. Boyct
face to face.
| Don't run away, Keturah," sale
he, kindly. Don't make an enemy
of one who would fain be friend.
have so much to say to you, Keturah. >
'1've washed 1t and washed It ant
1t won't come out p sobbed poor Ke
turah.
| washed what ?" questioned Mr.
Boyce.
my hair-my horrid, hideous, hate
full hair |"
Never mind your hair" said Mr.
Boyce, gently drawing her arm through
his.
"But-but it was such a dreadful
color, and / dyed it; and they gave me
the wrong color. And, oh, I'm almos
sure 1t never will come natural again. u
80 yes, 1t will |" said Harry Boyce
coaxingly-"the pretticst gold-auburr
shade in the world"
"Oh, Mr.. Boyce, do you really think
so?''
Upon my soul and honor l do
But don't you want to hear my news?'
"Of course do" whispered Ketu
rah.
"Well, then, Kitty-my Kitty-hert
1t is: / have received my first call t
the pastorate of a church in Living
brook, Massachusetts, with the pret
tiest little rectory in the world, of vel
low.stone, all covered with climbing
vines. And all need now is wife t
keep house for me and ask the deacon
and deaconesses to tea. Will you b.
that wife, Keturah ?"
ooh, Harry" she gasped, "do yo'
think that woman who dyes her hal
is worthy to be minister's wife?"
'1f we none of us had any earthl,
imperfections," said the young minis
ter.elect, smiling, eve should he angels
and although you're the nearest eve
saw to one, Kitty"-with kiss"
don't want you to fly away and lcav
me just yet. So I'm rather glad yo,
haven't arrived at that wing and silver
trumpet stage"
And Keturah Hitchings never trou
bled herself any more about her hair
"If Harry likes it, she said, II dol'
i Helen Forest Graves