Iron County register., 1888-12-27

whe1mtng amount OF negatives and
painful retractions DR. Helmsbury
endeavored with polite tact to draw
| him out on the subject of his sea life,
but it was all in vain. The visit was a
failure. Caddy was touched by the
distress in her fathers face. and ran
| back to him as DIR. Helmsbury was
about to help her into the carriage.
| What is the matter, father? You
look really ill"
II didn't say nothing very bad, did
/, Caddy?" whispered the old man,
anxionsly. ..But you ought to waited
till long about Thanksgivin' time, as
! you said. before you fetched him over.
l shall talk like the minister by that
time! He'll forgit mebbe then if ]
| said any thing that want exactly right
to-day"
dear old daddy, you talked beau
tifully." said Caddy. pricked by the
recollection of important words of hers
| tiveness.
But Cap'n Sander shook his head.
Jest wait till / git it learnt by hearti"
| he repeated.
Caddy wondered somewhat vaguely
and abstractedly what he meant. but
DR.. Helmsbury's horse was impatient,
and there was no time to ask.
They met Joe Kent on horseback as
they went back to Pinkham. He was
just turning into the long. lonely road
that brought up nowhere but at Squire
Stones. Joe greeted Caddy with care
less cordiality; there was even a
twinkle of friendly amusement in his
eye as he glanced at her companion.
He looked as if he would like to tease
her ''beau," in the primitive Plumport
fashion.
It was two weeks after this. and Dr.
| Helmsbury's fate was not yet decided,
although he had not been shocked out
of his ardor by the primitive and illit-
crate character of his inamorata's s. rel
atives, when Caddy received a mes
sage that her father was very i'll. It
was Joe Kent who brought the mes
sage.
We've been sitting up with him,
Uncle Laban and I, by turns, for the
last four nights. thought you ought
to be told, but he wouldn't have it so.
| Now he's out of his head, and calls for
| you. He's been studying grammar.
Your aunt Miranda says he would
scarcely leave it to eat or sleep; and
for man of his age"
s'Oh, I've been so wicked and selfish
and silly! I've let him see that was
ashamed of him-ashamed of the no.
blest. sweetest soul"
Il can't say that ever thought much
of grammar myself" said Joe, ignor-
ing with unblushing effrontery his re-
marks on his last visit. ''f people
will say something that's hearing,
don't care how they say it. But there $
my classmate Sam Willcut, who is go
ing to marry Miss Lydia Stone, he's Sc
| fastidious- -"
"Oh!' said Caddy.
Joe's horse went like lightning, and
there was scarcely word spoken un-
til they stood by Cap'n Sanders bed
side
| ''Oh, Caddy, you hain't fetched hin,
again. he cried, in terror. ''Oh, it's
only Joe! I'm dretful thankful it's
only Joe, for can't parse him nohow;
he don't agree with nothin'. Mebbe
| it's because his head is so smooth.
| He's nomertive; of course he must be
nomertive. Or is it Joe that's nomer-
tive? and who's objective? It's the OBJ
jective that's overthrowed me; 1 can It
never get the hang Of that.
"Well, now. l guess there hain't no.
| body that's objective betwixt Joe and
Caddy," said Cap'n Laban, coming for
| ward with faint chuckle. He had an
eye for the signs of the times, and he
was willing to risk his pride. which in
| its way was not small, to ease the
| mind of his old friend.
Cap'n Sander started up eagerly.
''Joe and Caddy? There don't nobody
object betwixt Joe and Caddy?" he
cried.
mo, nobody, father" said Caddy.
slipping her hand into Joe's-
..And you won't be mortified afore
Joe? Joe is own folks. And he won't
be mortified; will We, Joe? And
needn't never have wrastled with that
| 'tarnal GRAMMAR"
1--WE shall always think your speech
is better than any body's, daddy dear, -
said Caddy, with her cheek on his
| wrinkled old hand; ''but if you hadn't
| studied grammar, every thing would
have gone wrong. l might never
| have found out how much care for
joe
Land! You don't say so! Well, if
grammar amt the beatermost thing!
Raise me up, Caddy. I feel most as
| good as new. You and Joe. after all!
And that's grammar! Well, I CANT
sorry, Laban, that wrastled with it. :"
Sophie S,Oett, IN Harper's Weekly.
Composition of Explosives.