Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1886-04-15

INoO 0Oh say. We OlGtu
wondered, but-Jimmie, stop wettlng a
hnger every time you turn a page of
that album. You've left great thumb
mark on every page, you wicked boy.
Stop, or I'll whip YOU
ono, you won't" nonchalantly re-
torted Jimmie, continuing to moisten
turn more easily.
.Did you hear me, Jimmie Rich
ards?"
Eyes, ma"
'Well. you better mind, them Where
was l, Mrs. Stillwell? o, about Luridy
James age. According to that. her
| mother must be nearly a hundred.
| Awful homely old woman, isn't she?-
uncultivated too. Why, what do you
think? The other day, saws she to me,
Ive been tryin' to persuade Luridv to
| take dancin' lessons is invited out
| so much more when one Dances But
Luridy says, says she: Don't you
think it's most too late for me to learn
to dance? I'm going on fifty"
Il should say!' exclaimed Mrs. Still
well. who was eyeing Jimmie nervously.
He had removed all the bric-a-brac from
the mantels, tables and brackets, and
had made Noah's ark procession of
| the articles, two and two, that stretched
| cleer across the room.
| Jimmie Richardsr' cried his mother,
''you just put them things back. He
| don't mean any harm, Mrs. Stillwell.
! Boys will be boys. Jimmie, mind me
| this instant
| Eyes, ma" he replied without the
smallest idea of obeying.
| There was an omnibus silence of one
minute, then Jimmie rent the air with
| piteous howl.
There; now, you'll disobey me
again, will you?'
She thrust him into chair beside her.
Mrs. Stillwell replaced her bric-a-brac,
and then the two women resumed their
comments, but this time upon people
not concerned in this narration.
Lurida, in the meantime, was form
ing the acquaintance of the shopkeeper,
who seemed more like a gentleman of
high standing than like dairyman. He
had placed the five cents worth of milk
in the can and returned it to her. Still
she fingered.
Curious old girl, that" irreverently
thought the proprietor. who was Won
dering why she did not 90. Luridas
eyes rested upon the window, in which
were tastefully arranged some plants
two palms and a number of tall ferns.
GLOW pretty your window is. Who
would ever have thought of making a
store out of this old house. You can t
imagine how surprised we were to see a
store opened in our square. 1t is the
first time"
Just because it never had been, did
you think it never could be?-is that the
IL. g. 81 H.
asked, with shadow of annoyance in
his voice.
80, well, we thought we were too far
up town to suffer from such an inva-
sion." she answered, without taking his
feelings into consideration.
You are too conservative for an
American" he answered. quickly. Il
have been irving all my life to make that
the central idea of my writings-a
broader social democracy than we have
now. They talk of European aristo-
cracv-there is no country in the world
where people are so rigidly exclusive as
in America exclusive to every thing but
money. Bahr'
You write, then?n asked Lurida.
with renewed interest, looking about
the shop interrogatively.
You wonder why l am here if /
write?' he said. ''Well, wouldn't be
here if people bought what l wrote. 1t
is one thing to write, and quite another
to make money in that calling"
care your family going to live here
in the house?' inquired Lurida, eager
to know more of this singular person.
Family" he repeated, with a vague
look of dismay. ..Family? Ihave none
never had. Fact is, I am both an
orphan and bachelor"
.sThen you will have plenty of room
here-and quiet" smilingly responded
Lurida. taking her leave.
"Well, Lurida James. did you stop to
help him tend shop?' tartly demanded
Mrs. James, when Lurida had come into
the sitting-room and hung up her hat.
''He's delightful remarked Lurida,
ignoring her mothers i'll temper. '.He
talks like gentleman-and he is a
writer. should think he'd be rather
lonely, living in that big house all alone.
l always pity a man who has no kith
nor kin. But, then, perhaps it is better
for writer to live in seclusion and soli-
tude--he has a chance to concentrate his
ideas on his work. Why, mother, is
anything the matterP"
"Matterr' said Mrs. James, sternlv,
| eyeing her daughter over her spectacles.
matter enough. Did he tell you all
that while you were buying the milk?
He's bad young man, take my word
5 for it, Lurida-if his tongue runs on like
, that
But, ma, I asked him the questions.
He would never have opened his mouth
: if l hadn't asked him the questions
said Lurida, with vague tone OF
apology.
s.Well, 1 neverr' exclaimed the moth
| er, more disconnected than ever. ''Lu-
rida, you are fool! The neighbors will
have it about tomorrow that you have
f been running after the store young
man. Yes, they will-you needn.
: shake your head-for L saw Mrs. Rich
ards going into Mrs. Stillwell's while
| ago. Then the Stats of the window
blind were moved, so / knew what was
going on. Wen hear of this to-mor-
row. if am not mistaken. o, Luridy
Luridy, you little fool!'
Xavier Schnuriger was not altogether
5 dependent upon his custom. The fact
t was, that he was man of unlimited
literary ambition. In the flush of his
youth he had edited the college paper.
Later, in his twenty-first year, he had
been assistant editor of the political or
gan of which his father was a manager.
, His fathers death at once caused the
) failure of the paper, and threw the
young man out of his position. The
brief glory of being one of the ''we''