Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1889-08-29
A SLIP OF THE PEN.

In many respects an amiable youth, he
can not be said to be possessed of the finer
feelings, and perhaps is not aware of the
extent OF the discomfort he produced in
more sensitive people. A frequenter of
parties of every description, he is fond of
varying the monotony of the social rou-
tine by various little practices. Of these
his favorite-not, alas! peculiar to him
self-is commonly known as spelling
sport. Whenever Dicky sees pair Of
people who appear to take particular de-
light in one another's society, showing a
tendency to seek unto themselves retreats
he is never satisfied until, by some bold
stroke or cunning stratagem, he has sue
ceeded in separating them, or at least in
destroying their enjoyment for the rest of
one evening.
The happy possessor of an exhaustless
supply of self-confdence and the most
brazen impudence-the objects of his at
tGcks, moreover, being from the nature
of their position comparatively defenseless
it is needless to add that though Dicky
has his failures on record they are greatly
outstrlpped in numbers by his successes.
So there is nothing wonderful in the fact
that Dicky was at the bottom of the un-
fortunate affair with Jack and Ethel.
Matters had long been in a delicate
and critical state between those young
people. Jack had told himself over and
over again that Ethel was a firt, and that
he for one had no intention of adding
himself to the list of her victims, while
Ethel had relieved her feelings by re-
peatedly assuring herself that Jack was q
cross fellow, who cared for nothing but
his books and was quite impervions to
the charms of womanhood.
But that night at the Warringtons
things really did seem to be taking turn
for the better. Ethel had boldly turned
her back on half dozen other admirers,
and Jack, looking down into her hones
eyes, was rapidly forgetting the doubts
and feals which had tormented him dur
ing the last months.
There is no knowing what might no
have happened had it not been TO
Dicky, who came up to them at thi
hopeful stage of affairs, his shoulders il
his ears, his hair brushed to a nicely, ant
with the most unmistakable look of mis-
chief in his prominent eyes.
"Good evening, Miss Mariner" h,
said, taking Ethel's hand in his anc
squeezing it with empressement; ant
then the two poor things, suddenl.
awakened from their dream, stood ther
chill and helpless while Dicky fired of
his accustomed volley of chaff land Ethel
with feminine presence OF mind, venturet
on one or two little popguns on her owl
account.
"Miss Mariner" he said at last, with
satisfied glance at Jacks sullen face
"have you been into the conservatory
They've put in a lot of pink lamps AM
there's the most scrumptious tete-a-tet
chair you can imagine"
Poor Ethel looked up at Jack, wh
stood by furious and sulky.
''He is only too glad to get rid of me
He hasn't the ordinary kindness to rescu
me from this bore. And 1 have been S
horribly amiable to him." she thought i
despair.
eff she likes that popinjay let her g
with him! Pm sorry for her taste, that
ALL" reflected Jack. And in anothe
minute Ethel found herself actually seate
in the tete-a-tete chair with Dicky, who's
large eyes were rolling triumphantly
the light of the rose-colored lamps.
She did not succeed in making he
escape till it was time to go home. JAG
was nowhere to be seen, and she drov
back in the chill gray morning with th
heaviest heart she had known for man
days.
"Ethel," said her mother at breakfa'
the next morning, "did you have
pleasant time at the Warringtons'?"
"Oh, yes, mamma, said Ethel, drea
: lily. She was pale and heavy-eyed;
think she had not slept all night"
"And who was there2" went on Mr.
Mariner, helping herself to buttered egg
with CHEEKY briskness.
Ethel enumerated various peopl
, "And Dicky Carshalton," she concludes
"and Jack DavenaEt."
The last name slipped out with exa!
gerated carelessness, and yet it was viii
ring about in the poor girls head and hs
l been doing so for the last five or six hou
like an imprisoned blue-bottle in glas
"Jack-Jack-Jack Davenant." W
she never to have another definite thoug1
again9
e "By-the-by," said Mrs. Mariner, as s.
. rose from, table, twill you send no
to Florence Byrne9 want her to lun
here tomorrow at half-past 1. T.
II Singletons are coming"
Ethel moved to the writing tabl
blushing family. She remembered tn
}. Mrs. Byrne was Jack Davenant's cousi
!. "Half-past l, recollect," cried h
a mother, as she rustled from the room.
y Ethel listlessly took up her pen al
pulled sheet Of paper toward her.
: was not stamped with the address, b
% she failed to notice this, and began
Is once:
;. "My dear Mrs. Byrne."
Then she stopped short and the b,
zing in her brain went on worse th
ever