The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1886-05-13
JUST LIKE ARGENTINA.

Mystery" She had read lady Damp
sticks DOOM" and "Lurid Lightnings,
and "Green-Grey Eyes," and THE One
Legged Witch" three volumes each, o.
the most blood-curdling description thai
the village library could supply.
Nelly's taste in romance was not of the
highest. She liked to have her blood
curdled And as the four weeks of hel
country visit had been necessarily wet
she had trotted her young friend and
hostess, Mary Marsh, in the pony-traI
every second day to the village library
in search of the weird and mysterious.
AT the end of her months visit to Dark
leigh Court, Nelly's fair and curly little
head was bewildered by three puzzling
discoveries-that Hubert Marsh, Mary's
obliging brother, and the heir of this
grand old place, was desperately in love
with her insignificant little self; that the
country was a compound of gray sky,
rain, and mud, whatever the poets said
to the contrary; and that heroines-
especially Argentina, the last heroine
could cry without spelling their violet
eyes and their pretty little noses, and
that they had habit of gliding and hid
ing. Argentina often did; and Nelly
was beginningto feel just like Argentina
since the heir of Darkleigh Court had
begun to do heI chivalrous service from
morning till night to win word or a
smile.
Hubert is like Lord Lockwood in "a
Dead Mystery" she told Mary Marsh,
as they went down arm-in-arm, ready to
see new guest at dinner-a great event
in weather-bound country house.
HE has black hair and eyebrows, and
there the likeness ends" said demure
Miss Mary, with a smile. "We don't
want Hubert to be a forger, or high
wayman, or a corsair, or whatever it
was-not like Lord Lockwood-thank
you!"
"But do like a man to have some
thing Notwithstanding grand-as
if he were able to"
ITO slay somebody" limited Mary.
THAT would be romantic and out of the
common"
@Oh, no." said Nelly helplessly; abut
can't explain. Hubert looks adventur-
GUS. He might have been a courtier in
the old times, and helped in secret coun-
ellis, and"
PLANNED the smothering of princes,
and all that" laughed Mary. poor
Hubert! 1 did not know what bad
opinion you had of him, Nelly"
Nelly drew away her arm, and tried
desperately to explain, but they had
reached the last step of the stairs, and
the new guest was taking off his coat in
the hall.
He was a big-eyed, big-mustached,
burly man, with sort of cousinly like
ness to bulldog. He was afterwards
introduced as "our friend Gobblecock,
who has come from London to spend a
day or two with Hubert"
There was also at dinner that day a
neighbor of Darkleigh Court-a hand
some young fellow, Sir Harry Give
who took the world easily. His chief
pastime was twirling the ends of his
mustache, and his only troubles in life
were laying foundation-stones and grac-
ing the platform at public meetings.
His occupations ranged from lawn-tennis
in summer to sleighing in winter, and
driving four-in-hand. He called Miss
Marsh Mary" and she called him
Harry" they had known each other
since he painted new compilations on
her dolls in his Elton holidays, and since
her baby hands stitched the calico that
sailed his ship. Now, when boys and
girls begin as playmates, they often only
end as friends; new faces and new ways
have some day a mysterious attraction
that the too well known face had not.
Sir Harry Give stood by the window
that night, curling his mustaehe on his
finger, and enjoying Nelly's chatter with |
little Robin Marsh, on her theory of !
Bluebeard having possibly been the |
wicked uncle" mentioned in the Babes |
in the Wood"
"He couldn't have been their uncle" |
said the small boy, because there were |
never any babes in reality; and it's all
story"
"Oh, yes, there were babes-there
were; it is positive fact" said Nelly, |
truly enough. The little boy looked be-
wildered, and Sir Harry burst into a
laugh, and watched the pretty girl as
as little Robin did.
Hubert Marsh disappeared from the
group at the window. He was after
ward seen in the garden. kicking the
gravel and smoking a cigar. Poor fell
lowl There are big boys that sulk in
this upside-down world of ours.
"You darling little mitel You don't
believe in Bluebeard, either. Waittin
you meet him some dayi" said Mary, de
mure and diigent, looking round from
her lace-work.
Master Robin looked straight across
the room at big Mr.. Gobblecock. 1t was
a look Of inquiry; he had his doubts.
Luckily the friend from London was
not turned that way. He had made a
thousand apologies, saying he would not
ask such favor except in an old friendis
house, and they had all clamored excuse |
and assent; and he had begged for little
table to himself in an out-of-the-way
corner of the drawing-room, and spread
ing newspapers there and large book
all out of his black leather bag-he set to
work studiously, firing remarks all the
while like stray shots into the converse
ton, and paying attention to what every
one was saying.
Il would do it in another room if you
would let me CO." he said; but as you
will not exile me-you are too good
shall be free and at your service in one
half hour"
Mr.. Marsh carried on the talk about
stories from the point where his daughter
had left it.
"Ahl" said that merry little man, the
kindly host, my Robin is not what was
long ago. 1 set beans to grow stalk
like the famous Jack; and even now, if I
will read story like to believe it. Once
In the six months, may be, get hold of
one worth reading, and then all the men
and women have met in It live for ever
more. What's the good of a story that a
fellow feels is hoax and yarn? Now,
there's that book that every one is talk
ing of, 'Brightley Court that girl
Ruth Moss is somewhere in the
world; she is living like a violet
N a wood, and the air is better for
her presence-happier-and that's all ono
Knows. Let us love much because life
s short; let us do much because we love
nuchr That girl is alive for me now