The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, 1886-05-18

spectacle-glasses, "what can I do fox
youw
Keturah's heart seemed to leap up into
her mouth, every drop of blood rushed to
her face, while in a guilty whisper she
murmurcd: 80
"Hair-dyc, sir, please.
"Dyc2" repeated the purblind and' par.
TALLY deaf old man. "What kind of
dyc2"
"T-I don't quite know, siri The
usual kind, I suppose. Anything but
black" she added, remembering Bar.
bara's remark.
And with a eyes, yes" md a patron.
izing smile, old Mr.. Mill put her up a bot
tie of the brightest aniline-red that he
possessed.
Goals is always partial to bright col.
ors," he said to himself.
And Keturah ran all the way home, rs
if the w~hip-poor-wills and rabbits would
know that she had a bottle of hair-dye
wrapped up in her pocket handkerchief.
Once safe in her own little garrct-room,
she rubbed the mixture we'll into the
roots of her hair, brushing it out to the
very ends, according to Barbara's de-
scription of the lefty boardcr's" manipu-
lations.
She had scarcely finished, when she
heard her stcpmothcr's voice calling:
'"Kcturah! Kc-tu-ra-ah!"
"Ma'am2" she chirpcd fecbly back.
"Comc down stairs quick!" said Mrs.
~EIitchings, in a sort of stage shout up the
back stairs. ~"IIcrc's your brother, Sim,
and Harry Boycc, come by the night
stage, and supper to get for 'cm, and no.
body knows what all! Do make hastel"
And momcntarily forgctful of the chief
sorrow of her life, Kcturah ran blithcly
down stairs to be kissed by Sim and
chivalrously greeted by Mr.. Boycc.
Both studcnt-lamps were lighted, and
Mrs. Hitchings had even gone 10 the OK
travagancc of a pair of mould candles on
the mantlepiccc, and as Keturah turned
to help set the table there was a unani-
nous shout of laughter.
"Why, Kit, how do you come to be
topped off with cardinal-rcdW j%eeringly
demanded Simeon.
"What in all creation ails your hair9"
said her father.
And Kcturah, catching a glimpse of
herself in IL c%herry-framcd looking glass
which hung opposite, uttered a shrek of
dismay, and took to prccipitous flight.
Her head no longer bore the old hue of
coppery-red, but now display the vivid
cardinal hue of Farmer Rumford's new
barn-door.
And as she fastened to hide herself,
she heard the laughtcr-choked voice of
Simeon cxclaiming, incohcrcntly: Is
"Wcll, 1 always knew that red hair
was fashionable, but 1 didn't know that
the girls were so wild after it as to dive
their bangs the regular blazing vermil-
ion."
Mrs. Hutchings herself got the supper
that night. 1t was Barbara's evening
out, and poor Keturah was nowhere to be
found. And it was nearly ten o'clock
when the weeping girl, coming up the
long pear-trec walk, met MIR. Boyce face
to face.
"Don't run away, Keturah," said he,
kindly. "Don't make an enemy of one
who would fain be a friend. Ihave so
much to say to you, Kcturah."
I've washed it and washed it, and it
won't come out!" sobbed poor Kcturah.
washed whatp questioned Mr..
Boyce.
"My hair--my horrid, hideous, hateful
hair!"
"Ncver mind your hair" said MI.
Boyce, gently drawing her arm through
his.
"But-but it was such a dreadful color,
and I dyed it.; and they gave me the
wrong color. And, oh, I'm almost sure
t never will come natural again"
"Oh, yes, it Will" said Harry Boyce,
coaxingly-"the pretticst g%old-auburn
shade in the world"
ooh, Dir. Boyce, do you really think
so?"
"Upon my soul and honor I dol But
don't you want to hear my news2"
"Of course I do" whispered Kcturah.
"Well, then, Kitty-my Kitty-here
it is: I have received my first call to the
passionate of a church in L%ivingbrook,
Massachusetts,, with the prcttiest little
rectory in the world, of yellowstone, all
covered with climbing vines. And al ]
need now is q wife to keep house for me.