Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1888-11-16

| bOnS, we looked cOOllY on those pdTCICu
lar colors; if she spent time and though,
| on our dresses, we wore them without
rewarding her with word of apprecla'
| ton.
We had simply entered on course OF
what Bee called ''anti-step mother, and,
as great-aunt always said, we belonged
| to an obstinate race Our chief griev-
| ance lay in the fact that everybody per
sisted in considering US children, while
we thought ourselves young ladies. We
wanted to wear our mothers jewels; we
longed for party dresses with trains, and
all the nothings that accompany young
| womanhood.
One day Bee came rushing into our
| chamber with a newspaper. Her eyes
were bright and her cheeks scarlet
so Dee" she began. lust listen! ]
found this among the personals
80 A young man of high culture desires
correspondence with a young lady OF the
most elevated ideas, purely with a view 10
intellectual development. Address E r.,
Plainfeld.'"
"Who is hep asked, stupidity.
''Who is he? He's Great Unknown
He's poor fellow who is lust as bored
and unhappy as we are. We must an
swer it.
l wish l could say I tried to dissuade
her, but the truth is that 1 seized upon
the idea as an excellent one. had
heard of the vulgarity of personals, "
but this was so elegantly worded! Bee
caught that thought, as it was passing
through my mind.
you see he's a real gentleman" she
said wisely. Nothing in it about fun
or 'iirtation.' All he wants is to be in
tellectual."
"And We'll answer it together. and
make up name of our initials. B. d.
Bella Eunn! But how shall we get
the letters?"
"Why, we can tell Kitty Fisher. !"
(She was the postmaster's daughter.)
you know she often distributes the
mail.
so we concocted an answer, a very
short and dignifed one. In reply came
a long epistle full of quotations from
Emerson, and condolences from ''E. r."
He was misunderstood by every one. he
said, and no one could guess his Joy at
finding Miss Dunn willing to smooth his
dark pathway by pouring upon it flood
Of intellectual light. couldn't help
thinking Miss CASTOR would have called
that mixed metaphor.
He could see from her note that she
was a person of the highest cultivation.
Would she kindly tell him, in her next,
if she enjoyed Milton, and what she
thought of Wordsworth, and who was
her favorite novelist?
''He must be lovely!' said Bee. 81
shouldn't wonder if he turned out to be
a college professor. But, Dee, does he
get his capitals right, and isn't his
punctuation queer"
"That makes no difference" said /,
with dignity. "They say gen1uses never
can spell, and certainly capitals and
punctuation marks are quite unim-
portant-except to Miss CASTOR. He
probably has a soul above such things"
Time went on, and with it the CORE
spondence. AS spring approached we
began to think "t. r. must be feeling
the effects of overwork-he had told us
that he was brain worker-for his let
tiers grew more careless and less intel
lectual. He wanted to see Miss Dunn.
Wouldn't she send him her photograph,
or just a bit of her hair? At this Bee
looked grave; harum scarum as she was.
she still had keen sense of personal
dignity.
81 don't believe I want to write any
nice as we thought. Let's drop it,
it; but we had yet to learn that a ball
once set rolling does not stop at the
word of the sender. We dropped the
correspondence, but s'E. R." had no
thought of doing so.
First came pleading note, begging
to know if ttB. d. were i'll; then an
other, almost harsh, asking if she meant
to throw him over. Presently arrived
one which made US look at each other
with frightened eyes, and wish we never
had departed from the beaten ways of
decorum.
Il am coming to Colville to see you,"
it ran. ''Of course, l know well enough
Bella Dunn isn't your real name, but l
shall find you out. If you want to make
things smooth, just write and tell me
where to meet YOU"
Bee saws when we read that we ought
to have tainted. for we certainly were
miserable enough. Desperate as we were,
there was still nothing for us to do but
wait, and so we went about the house
from day to day looking wretched, and
feeling oh, l cannot tell how we felt
Nobody but those who have lived in
fear of disgrace can even
imagine.
At length, when we had grown so
frightened that we trem bled at the sound
Of an unfamiliar step, mamma came into
our room one day, and seated herself,
looking very sweet and determined.
Girls" she said, "won't you tell me
all about it? What is the matter2"
"There isn't-I began, and then I