The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1886-10-20

to work your way. At last, he. wait
ing, gave q halloo which sounded abb |
surdly loud, when right on the heels Of
it the bushes parted and radiant
wood-nymph, to be sure, in becoming
costume of buff lawn, the soft, loose
draperies of which she. had caught up
to protect them from the brambles, re-
vealing thereby the stiff embroidered
ruffles of an immaculate skirt, and
faultlcss feet shOd in neat French
walking boots. But her cEeekS were
flushed, her eyes were dazzling, and
cloud of shining hair rested lightly on
her white forehead. Her wide hat,
pushed far back on her head by some
saucy branch, served as a frame to a
bewitching face.
She beheld tall young man in hunt
er's buckskin. leaning ON q rifle. His
brown eyes were a shade softer than
usual, from their WEAKNESS. perhaps.
His face was clearly cut, and q dark
| mustache adorned his firm lip.
For more than a moment they gazed
into each others eyes. then laughed
and bowed. After thanking her en-
Enthusiastically, he said: 60 l had no idea
of compelling young lady to come to
my rescue. | thought it was a boy
who answered me, and fully expected
to see barefoot boy, with cheeks of
TAM instead of -" he hesitated.
"You will see no barefoot boys
around here she said, hastily.
There is too great fear OF rattle
snakes" st.t
Il have not seen any
"May be not, for they are not fear
fully prevalent, or should not be here.
But once in a while you come across an
ugly fellow. l always 60 armed my
self" she said, saucily, producing a
tiny, silver-mountcd flask from the
depths Of a capacious pocket. 1t
was but a glimpse Of the flask he
caught, for she plunged it back impa-
| tiently, as if she resented the impulse
Of familiarity. t--
IF you will follow me- she said,
shortly.
With all my heart. l love, the
woods, bit began to feelI should never
get out Of this. Ihave been wandering
about. seeking q path which |, could
follow anywhere for six mortal hours
"It's easy enough when you know
the way" Ia, d
"Ah,. but every one isn't dryad." 81
"No. I'm especially engaged for the
? summer in that capacity" she said,
FAIRLY acknowledging his ymeaning.
"WhenIm at home" she continued,
thinking previous confidence called for
a like return, "I'm Miss Amy Desart,
l of well, every thing in general.
4 We're nomads.
t I'm most happy, Miss Desart," he
began in the stiff manner some people
adopt when acknowledging an intro
duction, Ito find in You an angel I'M
awara9'' he concluded with regaincd
$ east. "And-and," he went on mis-
t chieyously, IL think l was bitten by a
a rattlesnake some time this morning"
p She turned in alarm and met his
/ eyes, in which he could not repress d
= twinkle.
"Why, you said you hadn't seen
4 any,"
: II didn't see one, but I'm sure
n must have heard good many, and
!. one could easily bite me and not pay
/ much attention to it, you know, in my
h perplexity."
). She regarded him carefully, felt sure
r that he was gentleman. and saw be-
4 sides the mischief in his eyes great
a exhaustion.
a II came off at four this morning
!. without any breakfast" and ohecould
q see his WEAKNESS was real. 'Ybl
y know" he added, eXcusing himself
. Il expected to be back ct the hotel by
- six with deer for breakfast"
# =" You are staying at PIP" sht
i. asked. F. was a village on thu
II line of the railway, about mile dis
e tant. D%E
a a have been there for the las
IS week, but intend to return TO the cit,
r. tomorrow. lsupposo you can show
me the way to F----er
" '.Oh, yes. You must have bacl
/. very faint. We are nearly to the path
" aud Miss Desart's compliments, ,an'
n will Mr. John Westwood deign to BAR
A. take of an informal lunch at Hopsi
Il damn"
- mr.. John Westwcod accepts witt
q due informality, not to say that h
! jumps at the chance. But where an,
:. what in the name of the redwoods j
!, HcpsidamP" If@
!. Hepsidam as the name signiGe
~ is "a place in the wilderness, rcnte,
|, during the summer months to camper
n for a small stipend. We have beer
70 down every summer for three years
l. But here we are"
J. He stepped out on the path an,
l, stood beside her. How fragant an,
n cool the woods were. The broad
1t leafy path made one sigh with pity TO
a those who were bound to tread th
o sitting streets of the city. They sool
e reached the cottage. which was not fa
from where they struck the path. |
II was an idyllic repast that awaite,
le them. Mrs. Desart was us lovely an,
IS cordial as her daughter, and Mr.
a Dcsart was full of bonhommic and un
|: concealed delight, at meeting any on
so recently from the city.
:, 81 wish had had the good luck +
l. lose myself in this vicinity wee
ago." said Westwood, regretfully. a
Is he was taking his departure, consider
y ably later in the afternoon.
l. ''Well. you can find your way her
r. easily now, and we shall be glad to SO
you at any time" said paterfamilias
Re cordially.
he Thank you for your kindness, bu
ot my vacation ends tomorrow" h
if sighed.
rs They all joined him on his wal
W hotelward, to make sure of his takin
10 the right turns and angles which wer
4 IN take him. tn F. and II scanned 4