Los Angeles herald., 1890-12-25


"As you SAP, SIR, so Justly, there can be
no happiness tDjthout an income"
am confident l am not at all of
Jealous turn. Othello was ever my pet
aversion among the creations of the
"divine William" and he of the green
eyes might have made his meat for ever
before he should have fed on me. But
then some things are too plain not to be
seen by the plainest of men.
1t soon became perfectly palpable that
there was some strange understanding
between Tom and his cousin. 1t was
very odd, too l never had such sus-
picion before, but now, clear as day
light, it appeared and demanded recog-
milton. There was no doubling it; there
was an understanding. 1t was evidently
an arrangement to make me drive at the
risk of all our necls that he might sit by
her. That his whine about his hands
was all stuff was proven by the conf
Dental, slnothered talk they had kept
up all the way, and by the meaning
glances they exchanged even now. Yes,
could see it all now as plain as day
see it by his ever expressive gesture, by
his tender devotion as he led her into the
little parlor of the tavern. Yes, there
was an understanding between those
two too plain to be mistaken; and then
But know can understand some things
as well as the next man! Had my eyes
been blindfold heretofore? Had been,
like Ford in 1.-The Merry Wives, secure
ass?
Tom pacifed the overturned one, and
forgiveness, the overturned insisted on
our having hot flip with him, by which
time the fussy landlady appeared and
beckoned mysteriously to Tom. have
confidence enough in myself to believe
that, even then, | was not an caves
dropper, but could not help hearing,
''we might manage to send a boy
on horseback" and "that the dear
young lady appeared so anxious and
worrit in mind" at which Tom dis
appeared abruptly What the deuce did
it all mean? More mystery; so l took
more hot flip with him of the tumble.
After time heard Toms voice in the
parlor again. I know not why, but
gulped my flip scalding hot, and strobe
toward the sound.
Perdition! What sight was there!
Miss Blythe stood by the roaring CRATE;
her hood had fallen back upon her slop-
ing shoulders, one perfect little foot rest
ing in graceful negligence upon the fen
der. Her eyes, filed with tears, were
lifted pleadingly to Toms, and her hands,
yes, both her hands, clasped his shoulder
so lovingly my teeth ground together be-
fore heard her say:
Fright or wrong, Tom dear, would
do twice as much for you?" The room
seemed going round with me. BY
heaven! l would that very moment
No, wouldn't, either. What right had
/ to interfere? and they didn't even see
me, SO engrossed were they with each
other. So fled in my wrath and took
more hot flip with the overturned, and
then the overturned took more hot flip
with me. Had that yellow tipple been
the hemlock potion would have drained
it just as eagerly, perhaps.
waiting, old boy" And the per-
fidious friends hand was on my shoulder
Had Lieut.. Thomas Jones, United States
Boomerangs, ever seen Iago, in his cele-
brated role of Edwin Forrest, glare
superlatively at some supernumerary
Cassie, then would that officer have
understood the look with which turned
upon him. He had never seen the great
artist in his great part, however, for he
only looked very contented and very
happy as he said:
81 think | wouldn't drink any more
flip if were you," and we were out on
the snow again. ''I'll spell you at the
reins a Bit he added, with another
queer look at me. Your arms must be
tired, and I'm fresh as lark again.
Are you sure you're all right there,
'Bet?"
There was tender intonation in the
question that made me feel viciops, but
the softened gurgle of her Eyes, dear
cousin Tom," set my very soul on fire.
Miss Blythe tucked the buffalo away,
and made room for me on the back seat.
Looking straight across country, and
utterly ignoring her gesture, clambered
up beside my rival and tugged stolidly
at the buffalo.
"All right, boys! Let go their heads
-nowr'
With lurch and swing we were off
again. Once more we SKINNED over
hill and meadow; once more the wind
whistled merrily past us, and our bells
chased it in musical peal. But the
sunlight ON the snow looked black to me
now; the bells only tolled a requiem for
my dead hopes, and the wind, in its
backward rush, only hissed, "She loves
him! She loves him!'
Though the horses were freshened by
their rest and pulled like steam tugs,
Tom still found way to turn and keep
up running talk with his cousin. But
as he turned on the side away from me,
and the words were swept back on the
wind, only confused murmur and none
of their sense reached me.
l don't imagine any tumbril passen-
ger, ticketed through for the guillotine,
ever jolted along more miserably than l
did those six miles. That morning had
loved Tom Jones as a brother. l had
worshiped the very ground on which his
cousins No. 10 slipper trod; would
have crawled on my knees to have her
accept the heart that was hers in its
every pulse! Now I hated that brevet