The united opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1881-1970, 1889-03-22

y
contrary one on the gentlemen.
"He's fool" said Harry Graves.
"He has got such delightfully."- foreign
way with him." said Harry's sister, Nina.
"He hasn't an idea beyond the waxing Of
his mustache, and the set Of his collar" de.
clared Nugent Forester.
"He knows all the best people in society"
protested Fanny Howard.
"He's donkey" said Forester.
"He's duck" pouted Fanny.
And so the tide OF popular opinion ran In
cross currents and made great glitter and
ripping, as social tides sometimes will. The
young men did not hesitate to proclaim Mr..
Cicero Faunleigh humbug and an impostor
the girls persisted in regarding him as a hero
and u martyr.
But to George Foxgun, the dark proved,
ing his sweetheart, Lilias Deane, was simply
uncomfortable.
Sand to such a puppy as that !" he NUT
tered, between his teeth.
Nor was his temper in any wise improved
by Miss Deane's own occasional remarks.
II do wish, George you would wear your
hair in a little more modern style. You seem
to take pleasure in making yourself as old
fashioned as possible"
"Oh!" said George, with slight shrug Of
the shoulders. "And perhaps you would
like me to pattern after Mr.. Faunleigh?"
Liias laughed and colored, and firted her
sandal-scented fan.
WELL" said she, "you might select worse
model than Mr.. Faunfeigh, since you will
drag his name into the discussion"
"Liliasp
"George"
"Do you really care for this shallow
Drained Adonis, this musk-smelling dandyw
Scare for him2 OF &C urse dop
"Then let me tell you"
"You needn't tell me anythingl" flashed
out Lilias. II am not engaged to you, nor do
intend to steer my course by any outside
opinion, even II were. engaged thousand
times overw
But Lilias. you promised"
IT have promised nothing" retorted tho
rustic beauty, tanning herself with
provoking self possession. Dear mel is
a girl at my age to fetter herself down by
promises2"
And this was the status Of affairs at the
time Of the discussion concerning the
wyoming regatta"
''Then If you're such a capital oar" said
Mr.. Graves, "you can row yourself up to
Stilsons Point to meet the others on the day
If the picnic, and old Paterson can bring the
hampers and wine-baskets."
"Oh, never row myself" said Mr.. Faun-
leigh. "It's such confounded drudgery when
ones mettle isn't up. When you're pulling
for q prize it's quite another matter; the
whole thingis localized, and-and all that sort
of thing. But in cold blood make point OF
never doing anything that can hire another
fellow to do for me-"
And Mr.. Faunleigh looked complacently
around upon his group Of auditors. whose
faces expressed a variety Of conflicting emo
lonesome admiring, some quite the con-
trarY.
"He can't row." said Forester.
"No more than a Chinese idol" added
Graves, CONTEMPORARY.
Graves sauntered around to the marine
abode of old Paterson that afternoon and in
the course OF discussion about new sail
boat that was being built in the neighbor-
hood, inquired of the old man if he had been
hired for the day of the picnic.
"Eees, sir" old Paterson responded.
Muster Faunlcigh has hired II To row 'un
up to the point"
''3ut we want you for the basketsr
"Eees. but Muster Fauntleigh has hired
Iv' obstinately persisted the old man.
Chow much does he pay your"
"a dollar, sir" answered old Paterson, |
his moist blue eyes swinkling at the idea OF |
a possible bargain.
"Ill give you two"
"Thank you, sir" said old Paterson. "A
man mustn't stand in his own light in this |
ere world Done sir r.
And when, the next morning, Mr.. Faunleigh |
strolled down to the river shore, he found |
the little boat rocking to and fro on the tides |
but the Ancient Mariner, who was to be its |
guiding genius, had basely given him the |
slipl
"Oh, confound it all r. said Mr.. Faunleigh |
pulling wrathfullv at his mustache. 81 shall |
have to paddle out there myself, or else miss
tIlo CAduCo Va q pow AAOUAVA Will Iuo |
star-eyed Liliasl And il once catch hold OF |
that old perjurer, Iii give him the completest
ducking he ever had in his lifel'
merry little shower tinkling like crystal
befls, down upon the August foilage-the
jeweled arch Of rainbow rising out of the
glistening woods-and the whole picnic party
dispensing with haste and laughter, leaving
chicken salad and tongue sandwiches, home.
wines and frosted sponge cake to be drenched
at their leisurel
"It's always SO at picnics," said Nina For
ester, shaking back her curls. Something is
sure to happenl But isn't it lucky that Miss
Hepsy Harris cottage is SO close byi Only
Just across the clearingl
And into Miss Hepsy Harris cottage the
merry throng made hastel
sWal, declare r said Miss Hepsy Hart, !;
little, old, specialized woman, who looked ~
il high wind might blow her away at any
moment "if this amt regular day Of adven. !