The sun. [volume] (Morris, Stevens County, Minn.) 1882-1895, 1886-01-21
LAURISTON'S RIDING-WHIP.

| BY GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP.
The liacs had begun to bud and the
willows were bursting into fringes of
pale gold along the road near Clifford s
Landing. Blanche Pomeroy stood at
her fathers gate, looking across the
road at the fresh landscape and the
schooners slowly tacking down the
Hudson. Although she had always
lived on it's banks, and was now girl
of Is, she had never been to New York.
Her father was cultivated man, who
had formerly dwelt IN cities, but was
of dreamy nature, and for q long
time had kept himself poor by his ex-
periments in making native wine.
II wish [ were where those ships are
goingl" said Blanche, aloud. Instant
| ly it seemed as if she had been trans
| ported to a scene OF splendor. She
was in crowded ball room, and wore
a dress with train. In order to man
age the imaginary train she began pac-
ing to and fro with q stately air; but
suddenly, while going toward the
house. her foot struck stone and
she realized that she was still in the
country. She sighed.
I-I beg your pardon" said some
one coming up behind her. "Could
you oblige me with a glass of water?"
She turned swiftly and discovered a
young man on horseback, who had
halted at the gate. He was about 25;
handsome, with q smoothly shaven
face, keen eyes and hardy comp lex
ion; altogether refined and amiable.
But about his lips there was q certain
cold, commanding look-a something
critical which at once piqued Blanche.
"Where did you come from?" she
asked, in frank surprise.
His face lighted up with a smile.
From New York"
"Why, that S where Twas just min
ute ago." said she.
Lauriston (that was the name the
young man bore, always written inside
of his hat) saw that the young woman
before him was of an original turn.
''Then, you must have flown to get
back here so soon," he answered.
"You must be witch. Ithas taken me
two or three days good ridingto come
from there"
Blanche drew herself up. "You
should not call me witch, she said
"a perfect stranger like you. can go
where like and do what please any
minute-in my mind"
II suppose" said Lauriston, "that's
the way you're going to get me the
water l asked for?"
At this Blanche laughed good hu-
moredly, and tripped away into the
house. When she came back with the
brimming glass the young man had
dismounted, and, holding the bride
with one hand, was absently prodding
the ground with a small wooden
switch that he held in the other.
'"Thank you," he said, pushing the
stick firmly into the earth, so that he
might take the proffered glass. II
wish | could return your kindness"
cts kind of you to say so" she re-
piled with such grand air that he in
voluntarily raised the glass as if he
were drinking q toast to her. care
you going back to the city?" she con-
tinued, with girlish curiosity.
"Oh, yes. Pm only riding for pleas
ure. Have you ever really been in
New York;" Lauriston asked.
"No; but I mean to 60 some day,
even if haveto 60 as circus rider"
Lauriston compressed his lips in
disproval. II hope you won't do
that" he said, handing her the empty
glass, and preparing to mount. "What
put it into your head?"
ooh. 1 don't know" said Blanche,
mischievously. "Your horse-and
you-and don't know what"
"Well, 1 wish you luck, )" he returned,
carelessly. He was now IN the saddle.
"Oh, there! I've left my whip planted
in theground." Blanche stepped for
ward to hand it to him. "Never
mind" he said: "It's only willow
switch I cut this morning. You may
keep it-for your circus horse, you
know" And, waving his hand courte-
ously, he trotted away at once to-
ward the village.
Blanche, bewildered by the sudden
ness of the interview and by what
seemed to her it's spice of romance,
gazed once more at the schooners on
the river. They stood at different an
giles on their course. The darker sails
of a vessel on the port tack slid for
ward swiftly, and cut off from view
the bright white canvass of one on
starboard tack. To Blanche there
seemed something fateful in this de-
vouring of the white sails by the dark
ones. What if shadow were to creep
over her life like that!
just then she thought she heard a
shout of alarm or distress down the
road. But her fancy SO often deceiv-
ed her, that she concluded it was do
ing so now.
Next morning, goingin the village,
she was astonished to see the gallant
figure of her horseback acquaintance
moving calmly, unconscious as his
steed, toward the steamboat landing
whittier he disappeared. Inquiry
brought out the fact that Lauriston's
horse had SHE'D and become violent in
the village street. His rider lost his
stirrup; and, after a struggle, was
thrown. A bystander had uttered
the shout which Blanche supposed i'm
aginary, and Lauriston, though but
little bruised, had stayed overnight in
the village and decided to return to