The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1891-08-23

|
handsome Jamesy, with his dark mus
tacbe his splendid eyes, his wonderful
curls. and, above all, his fine figure. And
if now and then a lapse in his grammar
had mazda her winca she felt sure that she
could change all that speedily when she
had the confidence that wifehood would
! give her, and with great ignorance of the
ordinary elderly gentleman's way Of con-
templating things in general, she fancied
that her fathers heart would soften when
he really comprehended how handsome
| Jamesy was.
| So she went on and bought her ribbon,
her hairpins, her little fal-lals generally,
and was returning when the sky, which
had been darkening for some time, became
positively black, and tremendous gust Of
wind arose, banging the shutters, setting
the old fashioned signs swinging, blowing
all the empty tin cans at the milkman's
door into the road, and sending chips,
white paper and little boys hats flying
| into the air Every one ran for shelter,
and Mahala, graspiug her parcels, made
for the open" door of a carriage house
Hardly had she done so when the rain be-
| gan to pour in torrents, and as she seated
| herself on an old box in the corner, happy
|
| gether. In moment she saw that one was
James Cumberland, the other an insignif-
cant young man with red hair whom she
had occasionally seen at the door of q
! tailor's shop in the place.
| The two men seated themselves on tie
shafts of a wagon, with their backs toward
! her Even had their faces been toward the
| dark corner where she sat they would not
bora Saor bar Rut IT Sba nav
| fectly secure from observation. 1t was a
great joke on Jamesy, she thought, laugh
! ing softly to herself, that she should be so
near him and he never guess it. The next
moment the little tailor spoke.
"Sing'ler that we should both run in here
! at the same minute" he said.
'Um-why?" asked Jamesy in an IN
pleasant tone.
well, I've been tryin to see you about
my little bill for some days." said the
tailor
You're in hurry, seems to me-" said
Jamesy.
'What want to know is when Pm to
have that cash." said the tailor. "Come,
say when"
Look here, Jinks," said Jamesy, more
amicably. you jest hold on, and the time
J
| having. Don't you forget itp'
"Ahl' remarked the tailor
"Ahl and oh! if you like" said Jamesy.
''1'm going to marry hayress."
when you find her, suppose" said the
tailor
She's found" said Mrs. Cumberland's
Jamesy. "You don't suppose good looks
like mine goes for nothin, do you, Jinks?
INV, for Ii
Pve got them fine points about my per-
sonal appearance that the women admire.
Folks like you, that's made, so to speak,
for work, don't know nothin about it.
Why, love lettersl I've got trunks full,
curls of hair and photographs. But most
of 'em are, confess, from gals not worth
noticing-folks IN the sphere Of life that
my father, having married beneath him,
reduced me to. This gal is in the fust cir
cles of sassiety, where naturally l belong.
She's Miss Mahaly Mumford, if you want
to know who she is"
Honor bright" asked the tailor
Bible oathp' said Mrs. Cumberlands
Jamesy. "She's fust chop, you know
plain and humbly kind of a chunky little
thing, but the only heiress of her pa. We
go away tonight-get married at the end
kinder goin on for an old maid; but the
chink, Jinks--the tin, that catches mel 1t
may take week to get the old man round,
mebbe month. But you shall be paid as
soon as he says, Bless you, my childrenr"
81 hope he'll hurry up and say it," said
Jinks. "But how did you get introduced
to her?'
"She introduced herself" said Jamesy.
nd
on me at oncs. She went for me, l tell
tell you, links, and if she didn't pop the
question, she come mighty close to doin it.
I'm all right there, and once l get my
hands into the cash, you and me will have
lots of publications. l shan't take airs
over old friends when Pm rich and stylish,
links"
"All right" said links. But I'll feel
better satisfied when l see the cash, for all
that. There is many a slip between cup
and lip, you know"
mo fear in my case, Jinks," said Mrs.
Cumberland's Jamesy "Mahaly is too
dead gone on me-"
Then the rain having ceased to fall as
suddenly as it began, the two men left the
carriage house. Ten minutes afterward
Mahala, with blazing eyes and white lips,
hurried homeward.
At the gate of the home garden she
paused. In the middle of the lawn stood
her father in fury, with paper in his
hand.
The trellis was gone, and pile of sticks
lay upon the branches of the young wis
terra.
'Mahala, banged if ever allow you to
attend to anything againP was Mr.. Mum
ford's greeting to his daughter. THAT
trellis has blown down. A pretty piece OF
work indeed, put up with tacks and pins, |
should say; all yee-yaw, anyhow And
look at the bill the IDIOT that made it has
sent me-thirty dollarsi Why, I'll see
him-ahem,-blessed irstp
Don't pay a penny of it, pap said Ma
hala.
81 shan't," said Mr. Mumford
81 was such a fool to get Mrs. Cumb er-
lands Jamesy to do anything-an idle,
lazy strickster-a low brute-a swindlerl"
sobbed Mahala, "Oh, pa, forgive mel"
Bless me, don't cry, childp said Mr..
Mumford with unusual kindness. There,
there; how were you to know about car
penters' work, Kiss me" And Mahala,
for the first time in her life, wept upon her
fathers shoulder-he never knew why.
1t was Mahala who suggested that even
ing that the old bulldog Scrooge should be
let loose in the garden. She was sure that
she heard feet there the night before. II
was Mahala who lay awake listening with
bitter glee until she heard the appointed
signal, Meet Ne by Moonlight Alone"
whistled beneath her window-who heard
growl, a howl. fierce barking, shrieks,
a l. E,-G