Idaho County free press. [volume] (Grangeville, Idaho Territory) 1886-current, 1890-03-28
A PERFECT PLOT.

came into the dining-room one day
just as she had finished breakfast
"and | can not stay with you, as
have to go out"
"Go out! Why, you said last nigh
you were going to finish that china
painting this morning though
really don't know why you SHOULD
work so hard. Weare not in absolut,
perjury"
''No; but it is pleasant making
money in way one likes. Besides
there will be some to give away wher
we find we have too much ourselves
And how is your trade going on?"
''To tell the truth, not brilliantly
In fact, | am rather hung up for want
OF plot"
"A plot?"
'Yes, it is ridiculous. l have q
short story to write this week, and
though | have rather neat set Of
characters and small incidents ready,
fyou understand, a main idea is
wanting"
Dear me, that is unfortunate!
Why don't you go out for walk, or
for half an hour in the underground
or to the city on q bus, and find
One?"
"My dear Millicent, what nonsense
you talk. AS if | were the least like
ly to find my ideal plot that way!
No; must try and worry it out my
self somehow"
"Well, / must be off Goodbye,
Stephen; take my advice-go and
look for your ideal in the real of life.
am sure you can find it there
After his wife had gone Stephen
Mostyn ate his breakfast and then
sat musing a little, after which,
springing out of his chair, he said:
81 never felt less inclined to write
in my life! Really, | have a good
mind to follow Millicent's advice and
go OUT
In n few minutes he was standing
on the doorstep, deciding upon his
next move.
"What a beastly fogl l certainly
shan't lose much under ground, so
here goes tor the Metropolitan Rail
way"
where for?" said the clerk sharp
~, as Stephen stood vaguely in front
of the ticket office.
"Oh, Whitechapel / should think
that leaves room for discovery" he
thought to himself.
what class"
Third-better do it thoroughly.
Now, then, for trial trip between
kensington and the Mile End Road,
to test Millicents theory"
A small boy with a large, heavy
parcel gotinto the carriage with him,
and spent some moments in vainly
trying to secure his burden more
firmly, by means of q knotty bit of
string what crossed it here and there
in purposeless festoons. Mr.. Mostvn
lending his help, between them they
made rather "A neat thing of it.
Adventure the first; ended | fear"
said stephen to himself. Il really
can't ask him how old he is and where
he lives, and if he thinks it healthy"
"Templel"
Out tumhled the parcel and the
boy and in walked an elderly young
woman with a fringe and an Ameri-
can cloth handbag. She sat down
opposite to Mr.. Mostyn, put both her
hands to her head as if to make GER
tain that it was still in it's place.
opened her bag and realized that she
had not lost her ticket, looked at the
window and sighed.
"Not exactly ideal, but scarcely
real" thought Stephen. "Do YOU
feel the draught from that Window"
he asked.
"No. | don't thank you," with
well arranged look of spiteful timid-
ity, and changing her seat to one at
the other end OF the carriage.
is this beginning" thought
Stephen. "Now, | should like to ask
her if she thinks my life for thirty
five years has been working up to
the climax of meeting her, yelled in
golden Jog, in third class Metro
politan railway carriage? wonder
ii its any good going on with this in
cident? Madame -"
''Sir, ! think this is Blackfriars'
Station she said, whisking her head
round as she spoke, the end of her
nose depriving the glass of a very
fine smut at the same time.
1T is not my business to tell her
that she is now still more attractive
than when she got in" thought Ste
phen; "she would probably give me
into custody if l -BIackfriars?
Yes, it is. Do you get out here?"
Yes, plunging at the door as she
spoke.
"Ah," he said, turning the handle
for her. 81 don't"
There entered before he shut the
door, n small woman, holding in one
arm tiny bundle of baby, and
pushing before her little box. She
sat down the baby keeping it's posi-
ton in the sling formed by it's moth
er's arm, the boy holding close to her,
pulling at her shawl, and continually |
asking her in an untelligible mutter
for something that she had not got |
or didn't mean to part with. Her
bonnet was slipping off her dull, I'M
tidy hair; her face was white, with |
tired lusterless eyes, pink, pinched |
little nose and liscontented mouth.
The poor little apology for n bnhy |