The Arkansaw traveler., 1889-02-16

her quiet and charming mischief-not a mischief
perhaps, but years-ago loveliness that had been
sOftened into ripened love of fun.
| now see as il comes up before me- the face of
old Buck Hineman He was the brother of Mrs
Osbury, and was old fellow with gray whiskers
and a reserved air; stout old man with An ex-
preston of disappointment, but, withal, that sud-
den leaning toward a confidential outburst often
met with among men who have become deter
mined to be reserved-a talkstiveness which means
| TO produce the effect of profound silence. Who
nexN Yes, young fellow, twenty year old boy
with fresh face and delighted ewes | say
delighted eyes because ii seemed that everything
delighted that boy. Everything amused him. He
broke out in genrine laughter anecdotes which
should have sneered at and even in his noisness
there was spontaneity of good feeling that would
have been lll-tlmed among men who had seen any
thing of life.
Now there comes a creature of whom | must
speak with caution. Why? Because | do not
wish to set myself down, at the very opening of a
recital, as q weak minded fool. Lucille. What
name! | cannOt-rather, will not-undertake to
describe that girl. Oh, what eyes, and was
a fool, do NOT deny that. What a mouth She
was not TALL but there a condensed grace about
her. She was not beautiful, but there thrill
in her movements. Not beautiful Yes but
there was something more than beauty. When
she looked st me, | trembled when she spoke
TO me, which she did occasionally during that
evening, / actually shook, so powerful an In
fuence had she upon me. | called myself fool,
L
announced myself as Ounce, but felt an intel
ectual quickening in contemplation of her
beauty. Yet she was not beautiful and knew ii,
but scorning beauty, she surpassed it, She did not
like me- saw that Did she take stock of her
uncultivated grace and laugh at me because could
not help but gaze upon her with yearning eve?
No, she did not like me- for she found interest in
what | said Once she snapped me up with a keen
witticism, and, in trying to reply made myself
Ounce. Then she laughed and even the old colonel
W n shown himself tn no host
chuckled with pridetu litter and changed the
subject. Never before had acknowledged myself
hopeless fool. | tried to reason with myself. L
tried to recall the many times had met brilliant
women, but my efforts fell as dry as sticks amid a
shower of luminous display. Bedtime came A
fool went up the stairs. | know that he was a fool
He could have been nothing else. In q room of
reproachful comfort thought ii was reproachful
because found so much bodily ease and so much
mental disQuiet,-I lay thinking of that face. This
is neither the record of a wise man nor the effort
of literary aspirant, l may be excused for an
expression Of foolishness. lay there-quite nat
ural performance, thinking of what might befall
me. Should | fall in love with that girl-why
mention thing palpable. Why, hang it, l was
already in love with her. To what extent? To
the extent that was q fool; that's all Why do
recall these details? That wish to make this sim
pie statement what it should not be, a sensational
recital? No, am far from that. / do not know
why have made this statement-in fact, l do not
know anything. l do not know why l thought of
many things-of that Louisville detective, espec-
cially. What mark that fellow was destined to
make on my life Do l wish now that l had not
met him? Perhaps the fever of recollection has too
much of an influence upon what should be quiet
recital. l lay looking at the moon that gazed
through the window. l thought of the change
that had recently come unto me-of many faces
that had seen,-of one face, in particular. Yes
of thrilling particular. 81 will to think
said as pulled up the covers that night 81 wonder
if that girl-but will not wonder. will compose
myself to sleep. l will not be a fool" Yet, /
could not help but think "shall influence that
girl? / was a romancer remembers romancer to
the extent that thought certain fate lay in every
SMILE / am a wiser man now. But what has this
to do with my experience in that neighborhood. l
cannot write this story except be quieto